“Back up,” I said, doing the math. “She called youbefore the plane took off from England.”
“Apparently.”
Simon turned to me, “You’re wondering how Churchfield knew about Garber’s death so quickly?”
“Yeah. Churchfield phoned Billy within an hour after Garber was killed. Assuming she needed time to figure out how to deal with the situation, that means the killer must have contacted Churchfield within minutes of Garber’s death.”
“Implying what?” Amanda said. “You think Churchfieldarranged the killing?”
I massaged my scalp, trying to think this through. “Hell, I don’t know. I just find it hard to accept that someone murders Garber and immediately calls the SECDEF. If I’d been the killer, I’d get as far away from the scene of the crime as I could and work on setting up an alibi. I sure as hell wouldn’t phone the secretary of defense and tell her I’d killed the chairman of the Joint Chiefs. How would he know how she’d react? How would he know she’d go along with the cover-up?”
Another silence. Simon closed his eyes and shook his head. This didn’t make sense to him either. I said to Billy, “Getting back to Churchfield’s call—”
“Right. Sure. At first, I didn’t really believe it was her. The SECDEF calling me at home? I mean, I’d met her before. After the attack on the Pentagon, I was in charge of processing the bodies. Anyway, she told me there’d been a tragic accident involving General Garber, and she needed my help. That’s why I went along. What was I supposed to do? How the hell do you turn down the Secretary of Defense?”
His eyes searched my face, seeking a response. I nodded, tried to appear sympathetic.
Simon said to him, “Secretary Churchfield’s demeanor—how would you describe it?”
Good question. He was trying to determine whether her emotional reaction to Garber’s corpse had been genuine.
“She was understandably uptight,” Billy said. “Kept asking me over and over if I knew what I was supposed to do.”
“Did she express any regret over General Garber’s death?” Simon asked.
“Not to me. All she was concerned about was how I was going to handle my end of it. Whether I’d do what she wanted and keep my mouth shut.”
So much for the confirmation we wanted. Simon said, “You mentioned you also spoke with General Markel—”
“Churchfield told me I’d autopsy General Garber’s body at Walter Reed. General Markel called me this morning to say that the plan had changed, and I was now supposed to go to Andrews.”
“Who else was involved in the cover-up?” Amanda asked him.
Billy shrugged. “As far as I knew, only Andy. He’s the only other person I talked to about it.”
She said, “What about his men?”
“I’m sure they were in on it. I mean, they’d have to be, right? But I never actually discussed any details with them or anyone else.”
“Why were they trying to make it look like a rape?”
Billy looked puzzled. “Rape? What rape?”
“You didn’t know?”
“Listen,” he said, “my job was to call it an accident and adjust the time of death. That’s all.”
“How about Colonel Weller?” she asked. “Did anyone mention her role in the cover-up?”
“She General Garber’s aide?”
“Yes.”
“All I know was that Andy wasn’t happy with her. He said something about her acting stupid and screwing things up.”
This comment generated raised eyebrows all around. Amanda asked, “You know why Andy said that?”
Billy started to shake his head, then stopped.
She said, “Yes?”
He was still thinking. “When we were riding over to the hospital, I remember Andy mentioning something about buttons.” He looked at Simon. “It was right after he talked to you. Andy was pretty angry; he said the buttons weren’t supposed to be in the compartment. Right after that is when he said Colonel Weller had screwed things up.”
My eyes went to Simon. He caught me looking and nodded fractionally. We now knew Andyhad missed seeing the button when he’d lifted the couch cushion.
Amanda said to Billy, “Andy never specifically stated Weller left the buttons in the compartment?”
“No.”
“But that was the distinct impression you had? That she was responsible?”
“Yeah.”
Amanda and Simon were frowning again; they were troubled by the same thing I was. While Billy’s account supported the staged rape theory, we wondered why Andy hadn’t been aware of it.
Checking his watch, Simon said to Billy, “So you don’t know if any of the other generals were involved in the cover-up—”
Billy shook his head.
“—and no one ever told youhow Garber had died—”
More head shaking.
“—or who was responsible?”
“No. No one told me a damn thing other than to make the death look like an accident.”
Simon abruptly stood. “Thank you for your cooperation, Doctor.”
• • •
As I followed Simon and Amanda out the door, Billy said, “Uh, Marty, can I talk to you for a minute?”
I glanced back. “Sure.”
“Close the door, huh? I don’t want Deloris to hear this.”
I did as he asked and waited expectantly.
Billy’s eyes locked on mine. “What Santos said, about keeping me out of it—”
“He’ll try, Billy. We all will.”
“But no guarantees?”
“I wish I could.” I shook my head.
“I guess it doesn’t matter. If you guys make an arrest, it’ll all come out anyway. Including the fact that I falsified the goddamn autopsy.”
There was nothing for me to say, so I didn’t even try.
Billy sat very still for a few moments, lost in his private thoughts. I watched him, wondering if I should leave.
He sighed deeply and began speaking in a quiet, regretful tone. “You know this is going to kill Deloris. It really will. Not a lot of docs make general. She always wanted that—worked so hard—volunteering for every goddamn thing that came along. Always pushing for me to get that star. And now, when we’re so close…”
His eyes flickered up to me. “Guess that’s life, huh. Make one fucking mistake, and it’s over.”
“I’m sorry, Billy.”
“I thought I was doing the right thing. I really did.”
I nodded.
He attempted a smile. “No hard feelings if I hope you guys don’t make it.”
“None.”
As I walked out, I saw Billy pouring another drink and recalled General Sessler’s words:People are going to get hurt. People who don’t deserve it.
I gently closed the door behind me.
Simon and Amanda were slowly moving down the walkway, heads bent in conversation. I caught up to them and glanced at the Buick; it hadn’t moved. As we approached the limo, Bennie started to get out of the driver’s seat. Simon motioned him to stay seated.
Even though I knew what Simon’s response would be, I had to give it a shot. I tapped him on the shoulder, and when he looked back, I asked him if Emily had called him.
“Yes.” He was smiling.
“Mind telling me what she wanted?”
“I can’t.”
“Dammit. She’s my daughter. I have a right to know.”
“And you will, very soon.”
I blinked. “Oh? When?”
“Patience, Martin.” He gave my arm a reassuring squeeze and opened the rear door. “We’ll all ride together. Leave the keys in the car. I’ve arranged for someone to pick it up.”
Amanda said, “Already?”
He nodded. “You won’t be needing it. Things are progressing rapidly. Unless I’m mistaken, we should resolve the case within the next few hours.”
She and I stared at him. Amanda said, “Resolve it? How can we possibly—”
/> But Simon had ducked into the limo. Amanda turned toward the BMW, shaking her head. She couldn’t bring herself to believe him, and neither could I.
I crawled into the back seat beside Simon. “All right. Let’s have it. Are you saying you know who the killer is?”
No reply. He was staring down the street. I said, “Simon—”
“Wait for Amanda, Martin.”
I sighed. The frustrations of working with Simon. As I followed his gaze, I’d assumed he was looking at the Buick, but soon realized he was focused on a second car parked farther down the street. When it dawned on me who was in it, I could only shake my head. I should have considered this eventuality. Simon was someone who considered all the angles; he never left anything to chance.
Abruptly, he faced me with an approving smile. “Amanda explained how you concluded General Garber had been killed before he was placed on the plane. Well done.”
I shrugged. “We got lucky. When did you figure it out?”
He settled back and adjusted his bow tie. “I initially considered the possibility when you mentioned your confusion over the hairs in the shower. Why they’d been removed. I never accepted your theory that the hairs were incriminating to someone. Who else would have taken a shower except General Garber?
“So it occurred to me that perhaps the hairs had been removed because they would prove Garberhadn’t taken a shower. But if that were true, why make it appear as if he did? For the longest time, that puzzled me. Then I realized the scene had been necessary to convince the flight attendant, Sergeant Blake, that Garber was alive. It must have been common knowledge they were friendly, so they couldn’t simply ban her from the compartment. Yet they had to devise a plausible reason for the general to avoid her during the flight. The shower scene offered the perfect solution; someone pretending to be Garber could simply tell her he did not want to be disturbed.”
“Frankly, that’s what threw me,” I said. “When Sergeant Blake told me she’d spoken to Garber, I never considered that the person wasn’t him. But when I called her, she admitted she’d never actually seen the general during the trip.”
By now Amanda had returned and was sitting in the seat beside the computer. As I shut the door, I said to Simon, “We’ve got a quorum. Who killed Garber?”
“I don’t know.”
“Huh?”
Amanda said, “Simon, you just told us—”
“What Itold you was that I expect to resolve the case in the next few hours. That’s true.”
“Mind telling us how?” she asked dryly. “In case you haven’t noticed, General Garber was killed in England. That means it’s now possible someone whowasn’t on the plane could have—”
“Correct,” he said. “The location of the killing changes everything. Our task has just gotten easier. One person knows the identity of the killer. It was his job to know.” He punctuated the comment with a knowing look.
The light finally came on. Amanda and I knew Simon was referring to the head of Garber’s security team. The man who was responsible for protecting the general wherever he went in England.
Andy.
“You know,” I said, following the thread, “this could be one reason why they put Garber’s body on the plane. To give Andy an out. Once Garber was safely aboard, Andy wasn’t responsible for guarding him.”
Nods from Simon and Amanda; they realized this.
She cautioned, “We might be jumping the gun, guys. Andy still might not talk. Odds are he probably won’t.”
“He’ll talk,” I said. “He has no choice now. At the very least, we’ll get him for accessory to murder after the fact. We know he had to be in on moving the body.” I added, “We can also squeeze Paul Carter or Tom Gentry, see if they’ll give us some leverage to use against Andy.”
“Perhaps they already have,” Simon said.
Picking up a car phone extension, he touched the message icon on the overhead console. He listened, shook his head, then hung up. He explained he’d left messages on Carter’s and Gentry’s answering machines, informing them we knew General Garber had been killed in England and that it was in their best interest to cooperate. “Frankly, I expected a response by now.”
“You know where they live?” Amanda asked.
A nod. “First things first. If it doesn’t work out with Andy, we’ll pay them a visit.”
We heard the partition whir down. Bennie glanced back and asked Simon where he wanted to go. Simon immediately looked to me.
“Andy wouldn’t go home,” Amanda said. “And he damn sure wouldn’t go to the office.”
I said, “No…”
But there was one place. If I could only recall—
I was startled when Simon suddenly sat forward with a surprised expression. He shouted for Bennie to start the car. Bennie said, “I’m trying, I’m trying…” An instant later I heard Amanda say, “They’re crazy. What the hell are they doing?”
Even before I looked out the window, I knew what must have happened.
Mutt and Jeff were making their move.
38
The Buick fishtailed wildly as it roared down the street toward us. It would be upon us within seconds. Amanda and I fumbled for our guns, the only thing we could think to do. From the front seat, we heard Bennie saying, “My God. Oh, my God…” He managed to get the limo started, but by then it was too late. At that moment the Buick swerved and squealed to a stop, boxing us in against the curb. The front doors popped open, and the two huge security men hopped out. They came over and rapped on the window nearest Simon.
He confirmed that Amanda and I had our weapons drawn before partially lowering the window.
The crew-cut one with no discernible neck did the talking. “Everyone out of the car. We’ve got a few questions.”
Simon said politely, “I can hear fine from here.”
“I’m not asking, Lieutenant. You know who we are and why we’re here. And we’re telling you to get out of the car.”
His red-haired partner casually slid a hand inside his jacket. Simon said, “Martin.”
I stuck my barrel out the window. “I wouldn’t.”
Bennie made a whimpering sound and ducked below the seat.
Red Hair froze, glowering at me. He slowly lowered his hand.
“Hey, easy, fella,” Crew Cut said to me. “You got us all wrong. We just want to have a friendly talk.”
“Suppose you start?” Simon said. “Were you sent by Secretary Churchfield?”
“We ask the questions,” Red Hair growled.
Simon gave him a hard look. “Then we have nothing to discuss. Good day, gentlemen.”
“Up to you,” Crew Cut said. “But we’re not moving until you get out of the car.”
Simon nodded. “I understand.”
The window whirred shut.
“This is just what they want,” Amanda said. “Keep us sitting here until the clock runs out. So—how do you want to handle it?” She was addressing Simon.
He was silent, looking down the street.
Amanda waited a few seconds, then said, “You just going to sit there?” She made it sound like an accusation.
“That’s appears to be the most sensible option.”
Amanda turned to me. “Well? How about it?”
I could see the excitement in her eyes. She wanted to kick ass and take names. But even as good as she was in the martial arts, she couldn’t handle two guys that size. I knewI couldn’t. I said, “Relax. It’s not necessary for us to confront them.”
“Oh, no? What are you going to do? Talk them into leaving?”
“Amanda, you don’t understand—”
“Damn right, I don’t.” She opened the door. I immediately reached around her and closed it.
She spun to me. “Someone’s got to do something. If you guys are going to sit around and—”
She shut up when I pointed.
Her eyes widened. “Say, isn’t that—”
“Enrique. Now stay in the car a
nd don’t get in his way.”
The green Jag slowly cruised up the street and parked against the opposite curb. It sat there with the motor running. We could see Enrique in the passenger seat, another man I didn’t recognize behind the wheel. Simon’s cell phone rang. He listened, then said coldly, “Whatever is necessary.”
This tweaked my interest. He was giving Enrique the green light. As Simon ended the call, I said, “You sure about that?”
“I don’t want them harassing Dr. Bowman.”
“So it’s not because you’re pissed and want to teach them a lesson?”
He shrugged.
Another of Simon’s little inconsistencies. Despite his religious convictions, he had a capacity for ruthlessness that I always found surprising.
We all watched the Jag as Enrique emerged. He carefully removed his suit jacket, hung it on the back of the passenger seat, then slowly approached the two men.
“How long has he been here?” Amanda asked Simon.
“Since you arrived. He was following those men.”
“Shouldn’t we at least give him a hand?” she asked.
“He won’t need it,” Simon said.
“C’mon, Simon. Those guys are twice his size.”
“Enrique was in the military,” Simon said, as if that explained it all.
Amanda snorted. “So what? That doesn’t mean he can—”
“He was a SEAL,” I said.
I could still see the doubt in her eyes. A gay cop was one thing. But a gay SEAL team member? I said, “Just watch.”
Simon lowered the window again, this time all the way.
Enrique was smiling at the men, saying, “Move along, fellas. Lieutenant Santos would like to leave, and you’re blocking his way.”
“Beat it, buddy,” Crew Cut said, putting on his tough look. “This is official business.”
“Hey, Ernie,” Red Hair said. “This guy’s got a real pretty earring.” He laughed meanly.
Ernie grinned at Enrique. “Beat it, fella, and you won’t get hurt.”
Enrique’s smile remained fixed on his face. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, but with a hard edge. “I’m asking you to move your car. Please.”
A Long Day for Dying Page 26