Heart of War

by Lucian K. Truscott

  “This is creepy,” said Kara.

  “It’s always a little weird going through people’s houses. I’ve found some strange stuff in my day.”

  “Like what?”

  “I had a case where a colonel got killed in a car accident one time, and he was single, and there were no survivors, so they gave it to us. I found a closet full of women’s clothes. Size about eighteen. High heels big as diving boards.”

  Kara laughed. “Takes all kinds.” She opened the door to Randy’s bedroom and switched on an overhead light. Inside the closet, battle dress uniforms were hung neatly in a row next to his Class A’s. Hollaway pulled one of his Class A jackets off its hanger.

  “Unless my memory’s playing tricks on me, Taylor was on the N.S. Meyer list, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  Hollaway fingered the U.S. insignia on the jacket lapel. “These aren’t gold.”

  “It’s probably his extra uniform jacket.”

  Hollaway pulled the other Class A jacket from the closet. He removed the U.S. insignia. “These aren’t gold either.”

  Hollaway opened the top drawer of Randy’s dresser and removed a wooden tray holding uniform insignia and ribbons and started going through it. “Look at this.” He handed her a single U.S. insignia. Kara turned it over. It was gold, and it came from N.S. Meyer.

  “Did you find its mate?”

  “No.”

  “Frank, this is too weird.”

  “Let’s keep looking.” He got down on his hands and knees and started throwing shoes out of the bottom of the closet. He went through a gym bag full of old clothes that was stuck in a back corner; then he got a chair and started going through the stuff on the top shelf. When he stepped down from the chair, he was carrying a small nylon bag with a zipper closure. He walked over to the bed and unzipped the bag and turned out the contents. Six knives tumbled onto the bedspread.

  “Well, well, well,” said Hollaway. “Look what we have here.”

  Kara started to reach for one of the knives. Hollaway grabbed her hand before she touched it. “Don’t touch. We’re going to want to print these.”

  “Frank, this is all just a little too neat, don’t you think?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, Taylor is arrested for the murder of Lannie Love, and we go to search his apartment, and this stuff is just lying around here like somebody put it here for us to find.”

  “This guy was one of our suspects in the Sheila Worthy murder, Kara. He was on the N.S. Meyer list. Now we’ve got him with a missing U.S. insignia, and we’ve got what looks like a goddamned collection of knives, and you’re saying this stuff was planted? Come on.”

  “It’s too convenient, Frank. You think if he killed either one of those women, he’d keep a bunch of knives in his house? That’s pretty dumb, isn’t it? He’s a smart guy, Frank. Randy Taylor is General Beckwith’s aide. He had to beat out thirty other candidates for the job. You don’t get to be a general’s aide because you’re a fuck-up.”

  “I’ve seen smarter people do dumber stuff, believe me.”

  “Maybe. But this is beginning to smell to me, big-time.”

  Hollaway unfolded a handkerchief and carefully picked up the knives, putting them in the zippered bag. He grabbed the Class A uniform jacket and walked back into the living room.

  “I’m taking this stuff over to the lab. I’m going to send the fingerprint guys over here, see if we can’t get Sheila’s prints off some of this stuff. They dated, remember?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You don’t sound too enthused, Kara.”

  “I’m not real sure about this, Frank. I didn’t tell you what I found when I had a look around Lannie’s room. You know what was in there, Frank? Not one but two ice buckets.”

  “So?”

  “Randy said he was carrying the ice bucket from his room when he went down to Lannie’s room.”

  “What are you saying, Kara?”

  “I’m saying he wasn’t lying, Frank. He had an ice bucket with him, and he was carrying it when he went into her room, and it’s still in her room. I’m going to call up there and get the D.C. forensics guys to print both of those buckets.”

  “Maybe he used the ice bucket as a ruse to get in.”

  “He didn’t need a ruse, remember, Frank? She left a message for him to come down to her room.”

  “What’s the matter with you, Kara? Here we’ve got a guy practically caught in the act of killing your best friend, and now we have a look through his belongings, and we find evidence tying him to the murder of Sheila Worthy, and suddenly you’re believing this fucking killer?”

  “I’m just saying some of this stuff isn’t adding up for me, Frank.”

  “Well, it’s adding up for me, and I’m going in to see Lambert this afternoon, and I’m going to recommend that we charge Taylor with Sheila’s murder. Are you with me on this or what?”

  “Why don’t you get that lab work done first, Frank? What if somebody else’s prints are on those knives? We ought to have all our ducks lined up before we charge him with Sheila’s murder.”

  “All right. But in the meantime I’m going to question Taylor about this stuff, and I’m going to notify Lambert that we’ve found additional evidence in Taylor’s apartment that implicates him in Sheila’s murder. I’ve got to keep her informed, Kara. Even you know that.”

  “Okay, Frank.”

  They turned off the lights and walked outside. In the Cherokee, she let the engine warm up for a moment before she pulled out of Randy’s parking space.

  Beckwith.

  The D.C. forensics lab called just before she left the office for the day. They dusted both of the ice buckets in Lannie’s room. The one on the desk had a full set of Randy’s prints and one partial print, unidentified. They had searched the room registered to Randy the morning after his arrest. Just as she thought, the ice bucket was missing from his room. It was dark when she left the office and drove straight out Jackson Boulevard.

  The Fort Benning stockade was in the middle of a field surrounded by razor-wire fence. At night, huge kleig lights lit up the grounds like a stadium. Inside, even after nine at night, when most of the inmates were locked down, Kara couldn’t get over the noise. Clanging, crashing, banging, slamming, screaming . . . it was a wonder so many criminals were repeat offenders. You’d think they’d go straight just so they wouldn’t have to put up with the noise of being put back behind bars.

  They had Randy in isolation. His thick steel door had a viewing slot at eye level and a meal slot below. An MP guard unlocked the door, and Kara walked into a ten-by-ten cell with a narrow cot and a stainless steel sink and toilet. Randy stood up.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I want to help you, Randy.”

  “Yeah. Sure. I heard all about the help you’re giving me today. Hollaway was in here questioning me. You’re going to charge me with Sheila’s murder too, aren’t you?”

  “Not me. I’m not going to charge you.”

  “What?”

  “I think you’re innocent, Randy. I think Beckwith set you up. I think he killed Sheila, and I think he killed Lannie, and he framed you for both murders. I want to defend you, if you’ll have me as your lawyer.”

  Randy collapsed on the cot. “Kara! You believe me!”

  “To tell you the truth, I didn’t know what to think at first. But this stuff is falling into place a little too neatly for me. I think Beckwith’s behind this whole thing, and I’m going to get him, Randy. The best way for me to do that under these circumstances is for me to defend you.”

  “What do I have to do?”

  “I don’t want you to say anything to me or anybody else right now. Tomorrow morning, you put in a request to have me as your defense attorney, and I’ll put in my papers to defend you, but there’s always the chance they’ll deny it. In that case I don’t need to hear anything from you that would give them an opportunity to call me as a witness against you.”
>
  “Do you think this will work?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been the prosecutor on Sheila’s murder. It would be highly unusual to allow the prosecutor to switch over to the defense on a case, let’s put it that way. But I’ll do my best.”

  “I don’t know what to say. This has been so incredible—”

  Kara stopped him before he went on. “Listen to me. You sit tight. If Hollaway or anyone else comes in here to question you, don’t breathe a word. Don’t even talk to the other inmates. One of them might be a plant.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  They shook hands. “I haven’t told anyone I’ve been here to see you, and I got a guard I know to let me in without signing in. So don’t tell anyone you’ve talked to me.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Keep your chin up.”

  There was a message on the machine when she got home.

  It was Mace. “Hi . . . uh, I wanted to tell you I’ve moved out of the barracks, and I’m living with another Sergeant downtown in an apartment. I, uh, would like to, uh, talk to you.” He left the number. Quickly she picked up the phone and dialed.

  Mace answered, “Sergeant Nukanen, sir.”

  Awkwardly: “Mace, it’s me.”

  “Hi. How are you doing?”

  “Fine . . . uh, Mace, I wanted to apologize for—”

  He interrupted, “No, wait, I’m the one who’s sorry. I never should have walked out on you in New Orleans like that. I’ve been thinking about it ever since. I’m really sorry.”

  There was a long pause as she savored his words. “I shouldn’t have let you go. I was so stupid. I’ve been thinking about it too, every minute of every day. I miss you so much, Mace. You don’t know how much.”

  “Yes, I do. I miss you too.”

  “I want to see you.”

  “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Kara. There’s too much going on. I saw in the paper you’re on that murder case. If anybody finds out . . .”

  Disappointed: “You’re right. Of course you’re right.”

  “I just wanted to talk to you, is all, to tell you how much—”

  “I know. I feel the same way. Can I call you again?” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as pleading to him as it did to her.

  He hesitated. “My roommate’s out in the field, but he gets back in the morning. I don’t want him to know what’s going on. I don’t think it’s such a good idea. Why don’t you let me call you?”

  “I understand.”

  “Maybe tomorrow night. Will you be around?”

  “Of course. Mace, I’m so sorry. You were right—”

  He interrupted: “I’ve got to go. I’ve got stuff to get ready for the morning.”

  “Me too. Thanks for calling, Mace.”

  “Bye.”

  She cradled the receiver against her shoulder for a moment before she hung up. There were so many things she wanted to say to him. Why couldn’t she just get them out? She felt frustrated, not being able to pick up the phone and listen to his voice. And angry. The Army’s obsession with fraternization rules were compounded by the situation with Beckwith. She wished that it would somehow go away, but she knew it wouldn’t.

  She fixed a cup of weak instant coffee and sat down at the laptop and started typing out her request to represent Randy. Just like her relationship with Mace, it was a long shot, but she had to try.

  Subject: Change of Representation

  To: Lieutenant Colonel Lambert Staff Judge Advocate

  The next morning she called Lieutenant Colonel Lambert from the car. When she got to the office, Lambert was sitting primly behind her desk as usual. Kara walked in and reported. She handed the request to Lambert, who scanned it quickly.

  “This is an outrage, Major. I’m not going to allow it.”

  “Colonel, I can’t prosecute a man I believe to be innocent.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to do it. You were assigned to the Sheila Worthy case right from the start, and we’re charging Captain Taylor with her homicide as well as the murder of Captain Love, and when this case goes to trial, you’re going to be right there at the prosecution table.”

  “Ma’am, I don’t believe Captain Taylor killed those women. Not for a minute.”

  “That’s really beside the point, isn’t it, Major? You’re a JAG officer. Sometimes you defend them, and sometimes you prosecute them. That’s the nature of the job when you’re a lawyer in the Army.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I understand that. But I have developed evidence that someone else committed the murder of Sheila Worthy, and most likely committed the Lannie Love murder as well.”

  “Why haven’t you revealed this evidence to me? Or to Major Hollaway?”

  “I have told you about my doubts regarding this case, ma’am. Only a week or so ago, you were urging me to present evidence to a posthumous hearing on Lieutenant Parks, and I told you I was insufficiently convinced of his guilt. Now I have new evidence which I withheld because I came to believe Captain Taylor is innocent, and if I revealed it to you or Major Hollaway, I would be giving away the defense case.”

  “Only if you are the defense attorney, Major.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “If you’re the prosecutor, and you have exculpatory evidence, you would have to give it to the defense anyway.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I understand that. But the defense is under no obligation whatsoever to reveal its case to the prosecution, and for the last two or three days I have felt that Captain Taylor is innocent, and started looking toward becoming his attorney.”

  “But on the other hand, Major, you have knowledge of the prosecution’s evidence in the Sheila Worthy matter. You have a conflict there as well, don’t you? Maybe the best solution is, we’ll take you off both cases and assign a defense attorney to Captain Taylor and a new counsel for the prosecution as well.”

  “Ma’am, I don’t believe there’s a conflict. Under the UCMJ, the prosecution is obligated to reveal to the defense all of the evidence it has gathered and will present in court. The defense is entitled to know the entire prosecution case before trial. So right now I don’t know anything that I wouldn’t by law find out anyway when we go into discovery.”

  Colonel Lambert pressed her hands together as if in prayer. “You’re right about the prosecution revealing its case. I should have remembered that.”

  “Ma’am, there isn’t a conflict here, and I want to defend Captain Taylor. Under the UCMJ, he is entitled to the military attorney of his choice, if that JAG officer is reasonably available. I’m here, and I want the job, and I’m ready to defend him.”

  Lambert gazed out her window for a long moment, then turned to face Kara. “This is an extraordinary request you are making. I do not believe I have the authority at this level to approve or disapprove it.”

  “But you do, ma’am. You’re the staff judge advocate. It’s part of your job.”

  “Major, with what’s going on here at Fort Benning, I’m not going to touch this thing with a ten-foot pole. I’m going to forward your request up the chain of command. It will take a higher authority than me to make a decision on this matter.”

  Kara saluted and left. Yeah, it’ll take a higher authority, all right.

  Beckwith.

  The message came much sooner than she expected. It was around 1600 when Specialist Lester knocked on the door and handed her a slip of paper. It was an order to report to General Beckwith’s office immediately.

  Third Army Headquarters wasn’t far, so she walked. By the time she got there, a very nervous major was waiting at the door for her.

  “Where have you been, Major Guidry?”

  “I got the order five minutes ago.”

  “The General is ready.”

  “Good. So am I.”

  She was escorted to the door of the General’s office and the door was open, so she walked in and reported.

  “Close the door, Major,” said Beckwith.

  She closed the door
and walked back to his desk. He held up her written request in one hand and shook it violently.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  Kara’s jaw was tense, and her words, when they came, practically vibrated with anger. “Don’t you dare talk to me in that manner, General.”

  He smiled. “Now I’ve got you on insubordination too. I’m finished playing games with you, Guidry. I’m going to charge you with fraternization, insubordination, and dereliction of duty.”

  “You’re not going to charge me with anything, General Beckwith. You’ve got my request. Either you approve my request to defend Captain Taylor and sign it right now, or I’m going to walk out of this office and pick up the phone and call the New York Times and CBS and CNN and the rest of the network news programs, and I’m going to hold a press conference right out there on your helicopter pad, and I’m going to tell them everything I know about you and Sheila Worthy and Lannie Fulton Love. When I’m finished with you, there won’t be a senator left who will vote to confirm your appointment to be chief of staff.”

  Beckwith stared at her for a long moment. “You’re bluffing.”

  Kara practically spat the words at him. “Take your best shot, General. We’ll see who wins this little war in the court of public opinion.”

  Beckwith’s voice sounded a note of quiet anger. “You think you’ve got this all wrapped up, don’t you? You think you’re going to waltz in here and threaten me, and I’m going to sit here and take it. I guess you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with, Major.”

  “I haven’t forgotten, sir. You told me in a motel near West Point fifteen years ago that you wanted chief of staff. I know exactly who I’m dealing with.”

  Beckwith studied her. “I’m going to deny your request, Guidry.” He reached for his pen.

  Kara struggled to keep her voice steady, to keep the depth of her anger far below the surface. “Lannie was deeply, incredibly in love with you. I found that hard to accept, but she loved you, and after she died, I swore that I would respect her memory. But you know what, General Beckwith? If you deny my request, her name and reputation will go right into the mud along with yours.”