His face knitted into a frown. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded. His diction was clear and there was no sway in his stance. Not bad for a guy with four ounces of booze in him.
“I handle accounting for the bar.” I glanced at the receiver. “I took the call.”
He still appeared suspicious. Either I didn’t look like an accountant or he wasn’t buying the phone call, or perhaps both. He said sarcastically, “The guy said his name was Talbot, huh?”
“Yeah. Right.” My attention on the papers in my hand.
“How the hell would Talbot know I was here?”
My head shot up in annoyance. “Look, fella, you don’t want to talk to him, fine. I got work to do.” I started to hang up the phone.
“Wait.”
I froze, watching him. His face contained a hint of doubt. Could the call be on the level?
The seconds passed as he tried to decide.
“You better not be bullshitting me,” he grunted, coming over and taking the phone.
“Hello, Talbot? Talbot?”
Kelly slammed down the phone. “I fucking knew it. What the hell is this? Some kind of a joke?”
“No joke, Colonel Kelly.” I held up my credentials.
As he scrutinized them I prepared myself for another angry outburst. Instead, he said, “The OSI? Hell, I was wondering when you guys were going to show. The little prick must be shitting in his pants, huh? Good. Nice to know I got to him.”
Just like that.
After Kelly eased into the chair across from me, I said, “So you admit making a threatening phone call to Major Talbot last night?”
“It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.” He said it with a wink and a smile.
I couldn’t understand why he was being so candid. When I started to remind him that a threatening phone call was a court martial offense, he cut me off with a dismissive wave.
“Save it. I know I shouldn’t have done it. But, hell, it was worth it. Besides, what’s the Air Force gonna do to me? Slap my knuckles and force me to retire? You think I give a damn? The cocksucking fag already ruined my career.”
“Colonel, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you—”
“What?” He puffed up in annoyance. “My language offend your sensibilities? Let me tell you something, Collins. What I’m saying is true. Major Talbot is a fag.”
I caught his use of the present tense. An effort to throw me off? “How can you be so certain he’s gay?”
“Don’t you read the papers? He told me.”
“He denied it.”
He rubbed his face. “Yeah, yeah. Look, in case you haven’t figured it out, it was a setup. The bastard set me up. He wanted me to turn him in, so he could deny it. Make me look like a homophobic asshole.”
I resisted the obvious comeback. “In your message, you referred to Congressman Harris as being responsible for—”
“It had to be him who pulled the strings, got me passed over for a star.” He eyed me darkly. “The brigadier list came out yesterday.”
I’d deduced this much from Joseph’s comment about a promotion. “You might have been passed over anyway.”
His head gave a jerk; I’d touched a nerve. “Collins,” he said icily, “I was two years early to light bird and two years early to full bull. I’ve been an aide to a four-star and a military assistant to the secretary of the Air Force. I attended the National War College and earned two masters degrees. I had every square filled and outstanding ratings. I should have gotten my fucking star.”
He sat back, his face flushed with the outrage of the wronged.
I didn’t say anything. I focused on his eyes and found what I expected. Hate.
We played the stare game for several seconds. He blinked first, his anger ebbing. “Look, I’ll admit I’ve got strong feelings against Talbot…”
I almost made a gagging sound.
“But if you were in my shoes, you’d feel the same way. I told you I made the call. Now you do what you have to do and I’ll get back to enjoying my evening.”
“I still need answers for my report, Colonel.”
“Fine. Make it quick, huh? I got some serious drinking to do.” He said it with a wry smile as if he was kidding. We both knew he wasn’t.
I had to ask myself if he was drinking only to soothe his disappointment over a failed promotion, or if there was another more ominous reason.
Producing my notepad, I asked him when he’d returned from Europe.
“Last month. I’m the deputy chief of Air Force Personnel at the Pentagon.”
This explained why Sam and Major Tenpas had denied that anyone in Manpower held deep resentment toward Major Talbot. Even though I knew the answer, I asked Kelly why he hadn’t been reassigned to Manpower upon his return, since that was his area of expertise.
“Why the hell do you think?” he grunted. “The brass wanted to keep Talbot and me separated.”
“Did it work?”
“You mean have I seen Talbot since I got back?”
“Yes.”
“Sure. Several times. The Pentagon’s a big place, but not that big.” He flashed a cocky grin. “I ran into him in the john only last week. He practically pissed on himself when he saw me standing next to him.”
“Did you confront or threaten him in any way?”
The grin chilled. “Did he say I did?”
“I’m asking you, Colonel.”
He hesitated, then shook his head. “No. I never said a word to the fucking fairy.”
Let it go, Marty.
I couldn’t. The man had been brutally murdered. It didn’t seem right. “Colonel, please. Call Major Talbot by his name, huh?”
“Aw, for the love of—” He glowered at me in disgust “Let me guess. You’re a bleeding heart lefty, right? You believe it’s wrong to judge people. Figure it will offend them. Hurt their feelings. Here’s a news flash, Collins. There is such a thing as right and wrong. Standards of behavior that are unacceptable. That’s what the military is all about, enforcing those standards. Or didn’t you read the fine print when you signed on?”
He was trying to push my buttons and it was working. It was all I could do to keep from telling him to kiss my ass. “Colonel, you’re out of line.”
“I’m out of line? Let me ask you something. You think gays should serve in the military?”
Brother. I didn’t want to go anywhere near this. “Colonel, I’m a criminal investigator. I’m not here to express my opinion.”
“You better damn well start. I’ve got a right to know if your biased.”
I met his hard gaze with one of my own. “I’m not.”
“Like hell. I can see it on your face. Those reporters who hounded me looked at me the same way. Like I was a bigoted piece of shit. Well, I got news for you and them. What I am is a soldier and a patriot. Those words probably don’t mean jack to you—”
“Colonel—”
“I swore to protect this country and I mean to do just that. America is surrounded by crazies who want to do her harm. Any minute we could be hit with another nine-eleven or worse. The only way America will survive is for our military to be strong. Strong. Root out the bastards where they live—”
“Colonel, please—”
“We can’t afford to be part of some feel-good social experiment. In any other profession, I could give a shit about someone being gay. But the military is different. We can’t allow gays to serve openly. It effects unit cohesion, our capability to fight. You ever been a grunt, Collins?”
I was caught off guard by the question. “No.”
“I have. I was an Army Ranger before I joined the Air Force. I can tell you unit cohesion was everything. You eat, sleep, train, and crap together. The men in your unit become closer than your own family. Look at what happened during the last Gulf War. When the bullets started flying, those kids weren’t fighting for God and country. They were fighting to protect their buddy’s ass. Any one of them would take a bullet for their
platoon mates and never think twice. You believe those young soldiers would feel the same way if the guy sitting beside him in the next foxhole was gay? Not a chance. Right or wrong, someone who’s gay will be looked at as different. He’ll never fit in or be completely trusted. You know what I’m saying is true. Dammit, you know.” He punctuated the comment with a glare, daring me to respond.
I said quietly, “You through, Colonel?”
He thought for a moment, then nodded. “I guess I am.”
He rose from the chair and headed for the door.
“Colonel Kelly, we’re not finished!”
He continued out into the hallway.
I swore and sprang after him. “Sir, I’m not here only because of your threatening call.”
He kept walking. He was almost to the door, leading into the bar. I said, “Colonel, Major Talbot was murdered this afternoon.”
That got him. He went still, his hand on the knob. Slowly, he faced me and I was struck by his expression. It was calm, showing no hint of surprise. His eyes met mine and I saw a flicker of understanding.
“The phone call,” he said. “That’s why you said it was from Talbot. You wanted to see if I’d answer it?”
I nodded.
“I did. That should prove something.”
“You made it clear you believed it couldn’t have been from him.”
“Not because I thought he was dead. Talbot hated me. He’d never call.”
I motioned him toward the office. “Let’s finish this discussion inside, Colonel. Please.”
A look of resignation crossed his face. “Give me a minute.”
“A minute for what?”
He opened the door and entered the bar.
12
Dammit.
The door was closing behind him. I hurried over, yanked it open—
And stopped short.
Colonel Kelly wasn’t taking a powder; he was ordering another drink.
From the doorway, I watched as Joseph poured him a double whiskey, neat. After fortifying himself with a swallow, Kelly walked back toward me.
“I didn’t kill him, Collins.”
“But you wanted to?”
“Would you believe me if I said no?”
“I might.”
He smiled pleasantly. “You’re a goddamn liar, Collins.”
He casually strolled down the hallway toward the office.
We’d returned to our previous seats. After jotting down his statement, I contemplated him across the desk. “So you don’t have an alibi?”
He swirled his whiskey glass which was already half empty. “Guess not. I was house hunting this afternoon. My family will be flying out next month. They remained in Germany, to finish out the school year.”
Referring to my notepad, I said, “At seventeen-thirty, you met with a realtor to tour a home in Arlington….”
“Yeah.”
“The address is less than three miles from Talbot’s home.”
“If you say so.”
“Two hours before that, you drove around several Arlington neighborhoods, but never spoke to anyone.”
“No.” He paused. “I checked out a house around seventeen hundred or so. No one was in, but as I left, I noticed a woman gardening next door. She might remember me.”
I asked him for the address. He recalled the street, but not the house number. “Can’t miss it. It’s at the end of a cul-de-sac and has one of those yellow Buy Owner signs out front.”
“And your car?”
“A two thousand Explorer. Tan.”
After marking this down, I asked him if there was any particular reason why he concentrated on Arlington neighborhoods?
“I don’t like long commutes.”
“I see. And not because you wanted to live near Major Talbot?”
“Now why would I want to do that?” His face the picture of innocence.
He was going to make me say it, so I obliged. “Because it would make it much easier for you to harass him, Colonel.”
He dismissed my accusation with a laugh. “You’ve some imagination, Collins. I got better things to do than to go around stalking Talbot.”
“Your phone message suggested otherwise.”
A shrug. “I was drunk. People say a lot of things when they’re drunk. Doesn’t mean shit.” He flashed a tight smile as if to say, prove different.
I couldn’t…yet.
Changing the subject, I asked him to expand on a topic he’d alluded to earlier.
“Why’d Major Talbot set me up?” Kelly said. “Hell, that’s easy. It was a preemptive strike.”
“Meaning…”
He swallowed more booze before replying. For the first time, I noticed a glow in his cheeks and a slight slurring in his speech. The man was human after all.
“Talbot,” he said, “knew I knew he was gay. He figured I was going to eventually get him, so he’d decided to beat me to the punch. Admit his homosexuality to me in private, then deny it after I formally leveled the charge. You don’t believe me, huh?” He read my skepticism.
“What I don’t understand,” I said, “is why you would think Talbot was gay in the first place? Did he give you any reason?”
“I could just tell. He was single. Never dated and hated sports. Had a lot of guy friends and—”
He was ticking off stereotypes. I countered with: “He was also a devout Catholic.”
“So what? He could be gay and religious. Or maybe he was using religion as a cover.”
“You really believe that?”
“Listen,” he said, eyeing me. “All I know is that he and Major Coller hung out together.”
I said, “Coller?”
“Lyle Coller. He’s a computer analyst assigned to Manpower. Coller’s a real pretty boy. Effeminate as hell.”
I got it now. “So you assumed Coller was gay and by extension—”
“Assume, hell. I knew he was gay. I knew they were both gay. Everyone knew it. I was the only one with the balls to say so.”
The picture was almost complete. I squeezed in the last piece, saying, “So you confronted them about being gay?”
“In a manner of speaking. I told them that I knew what was going on and ordered them to cool it, or I’d be on them like stink on shit.”
This was a violation of the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy, which prohibited senior officers from ferreting out suspected homosexuals without cause. Not that Kelly would care.
He killed off his drink and leaned back in his chair. “Anything else you want to know?”
His face was very red, eyes glassy. I went for it and asked him if he had anything to do with Talbot’s death.
“Fuck, no.”
His gaze was steady and there was no hesitation in his response.
Truthful, I reluctantly wrote down.
After getting Kelly’s office and hotel room number—he was residing at the Days Inn across the street—I told him he could go.
As I rose to follow him out, I noticed Kelly pause in the doorway, watching me.
“Something on your mind, Colonel?”
“You never answered my question about your possible bias against me. How do I know you’re not out to screw me like those reporters?”
“I’m not.”
“That’s not good enough. We’re talking about the murder of the nephew of the next president. Congressman Harris will squeeze the brass hard for answers and the brass will come down on you. I’ll bet they’re already pressuring you now. Am I right?”
I hesitated.
“That’s what I thought. So you see I’ve got a major problem. I know I’m the easy choice. What I don’t know is whether you’ll take it.”
“You’ll have to trust me, Colonel.”
“Wrong answer. From where I sit, you’re looking like some closet lefty. Now maybe that won’t influence your decision, but I’m thinking…you know…it just might.”
He spread his feet wide, looking at me accusingly.
I
wasn’t under any obligation answer to him. I’m not sure why I did. In the end, I suppose I felt he had a right to know whether I could be objective.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t believe gays should serve openly in the military.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Well, hell, why didn’t you say so. Jeez, you had me going. You and me think alike, huh?”
“Apparently. Excuse me, Colonel.”
I stepped past him and went down the hall.
It was true.
My views toward gays in the military were similar to Colonel Kelly’s. Did I believe they should be ferreted out and prosecuted? Of course not.
But I did believe that gays couldn’t serve openly without undermining the military’s combat effectiveness. As Colonel Kelly intimated, the esprit de corps which binds soldiers together is a fragile thing. Anything which disrupts their unique camaraderie and creates tension would significantly reduce their ability to operate as a single entity, a crucial requirement in battle.
Did I wish this wasn’t the case? Yes.
But the reality was that homosexuals were looked upon as different, not only in the military, but also in society as a whole. Until that stigma was gone, gays would never be accepted in such inherently macho organizations like the military. Anyone who believes otherwise is fooling themselves.
That’s why I’d supported the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy as an acceptable compromise. It allowed gays to serve as long as they kept their sexuality to themselves.
Sure, there were problems with the policy, the most serious being the fairness with which it was implemented. On one end of the spectrum, you had guys like Kelly, who ignored the guidelines and conducted their own witch hunts. On the other end, you had people like me and General Baldwin and countless other professional soldiers who supported the policy in theory, but found it impossible to enforce in practice.
You think like me, Colonel Kelly had said.
A Slow Walk to Hell Page 8