The arrest statement was a flat-out lie; we had no real evidence against Churchfield. Still, the threat apparently generated the response Simon was seeking.
His face relaxed. “Good. We understand each other. Listen closely. I want you to do exactly as I say…”
When Simon cradled the phone, Enrique still looked bewildered, but I wasn’t. I now grasped what Simon was trying to do and why.
After he explained his plan, Enrique said, “Hey, I get it. They screwed with you, so now it’s your turn. Play one against the other. Not bad. It might even work.”
“It will,” Simon said. To me: “You understand about the phone call?”
“Yes.”
“You have the number?”
I patted my coat.
He eyed me. “It’s better if you don’t draw attention to yourself.”
I nodded. “I’ll keep my mouth shut. Churchfield won’t even know I’m there.”
“Good.”
As we got out of the limo, I said to him, “If this works, I will have a request for General Markel.”
He frowned. “What kind of request?”
He was shaking his head even before I finished. “The general will never agree, Martin. He would risk incriminating himself.”
I gave him a hard look to show him I wasn’t going to back down. “I don’t care. I have to be certain. I owe it to Andy.”
He seemed to smile. “All right, Martin.”
We walked through the mist toward the Pentagon.
48
Twenty minutes later, Simon and I were cooling our heels in Churchfield’s waiting room. For obvious reasons, it was a scene of frenzied activity. High-ranking DoD civilians and officers constantly came and went, anxious aides scurrying after them. Two prominent talking heads stopped by and requested interviews with Churchfield. They were rebuffed by a squat navy captain who seemed to double as the office bouncer. The civilian secretary answered call after call, a number of which were from members of Congress. In each instance, she deflected their requests by saying Churchfield was in a meeting. Finally, we heard a lone exception. “One moment, Mr. Vice President.” She put his call through.
Simon yawned, drained his coffee, and went to refill his cup from the pot in the corner. He stopped to chat briefly with the secretary. He laughed at something she said. To look at him, he appeared completely relaxed; you’d never know he was about to confront the secretary of defense.
I shook my head and tossed aside the copy of theAir Force Times I’d been reading. Unlike Simon, I felt tense. I didn’t share his view that our success was guaranteed. Churchfield was arguably the second most powerful person in the country. We had no idea how she’d react when cornered. She could put up a wall, decide to play hardball. And if that happened—
From somewhere a clock chimed. Ten o’clock. I sighed. So much for spending time with my daughter before she went to bed.
I fished out my cell phone and punched in my home number. After a half dozen rings, Emily picked up. She told me she was on the other line with her latest best friend, Trisha. Hint: She was too busy to talk to me. I told the birthday girl not to stay up too late, and I’d see her in the morning.
“Don’t go, Dad. I’ll be right back.”
Ditching her Trisha for me. This was a first.
A moment later, she said, “Did you talk to Uncle Simon? Did you?”
I frowned at her excited tone. “He mentioned you’d called.”
“Cut it out, Dad. What else did he say?Tell me. ”
I could almost picture her squirming in her chair. I glanced at Simon. He was now conversing with the navy captain. I said, “That was it. He just said he’d spoken with you.”
“Huh? He didn’t sayanything about Mom’s letter?” She sound absolutely crushed.
“Honey, we’ve been busy. There really hasn’t been time—”
“He promised.”
She was on the verge of tears. I didn’t get it. What the hell was in the letter that would make her so upset?
When Simon looked my way, I motioned to him. As he came over, I said to Emily, “Uncle Simon’s here. You can ask him yourself.”
“Emily,” I said, shoving the phone into his hand. “You’re in trouble.”
Simon placed it to his ear and looked at me. “Uh, Martin, if you don’t mind…”
“I do.”
He shrugged, handed me his coffee cup, and strolled out the door.
Simon returned a few minutes later and handed me back the phone.
I said, “Well?”
“Emily understands. I told her I needed to complete the arrangements.”
“What arrangements?”
“Martin. This really isn’t the time.”
“Make time. You’re supposed to tell me about the letter—What?” He was pointing past me.
I turned, saw the navy captain striding over to us. He announced, “This way, gentlemen.”
Instead of leading us down the hallway toward Churchfield’s office, he swung out the door into the E-ring.
Simon shot me a look of concern. This was something we hadn’t counted on. I quickly sidled up to the captain and asked, “Where are we going?”
He gave me a room number. Noting my blank expression, he added, “It’s a conference room.”
“Is it a SCIF?” If we were being taken to a secured compartmentalized information facility similar to the Joint Chiefs meeting room, we’d have to turn in our cell phones.
The captain shook his head.
I drifted back, reassured Simon with a nod. He came forward to shield me in case the captain turned around. As we walked along, I thumbed the speed-dial on my cell phone. She answered on the first ring. Moments later, we arrived at a set of double doors. The captain knocked once, opened the door, and ushered us inside. By then, I had my phone safely tucked into my shirt pocket.
The sight that greeted us wasn’t what we’d been led to expect. Instead, they wereall waiting for us in the briefing room.
As Simon and I entered, no one said a word. They just stared at us with open resentment. Churchfield was seated at the head of the gleaming conference table. To her left were Markel, Sessler, and Johnson. Ernie and his red-haired partner stood along the back wall and were doing their best to appear menacing. No easy feat for Red Hair, who looked like a clown reject with his swollen and purple nose.
Before withdrawing, the captain directed Simon and me to the seats on Churchfield’s right. As we walked over, twelve pairs of eyes followed. I risked a glance at Markel. He met my gaze with an arrogant grin. At least he’d left his rifle in his office.
As we slipped into our seats, Churchfield said, “You have five minutes.”
Simon focused on her. “Did Senator Garber mention why I requested this meeting, Madam Secretary?”
She hesitated. “He said you know who killed General Garber.”
“Crap,” Markel grunted. “They’re bluffing.”
Simon gave him a cool smile. “Then why are you here, General?”
Markel’s face reddened. “Listen, you son of a—”
“Be quiet, Dave,” Churchfield said wearily.
“No. I’ve had it with—”
“Dave.”
Markel folded his arms, glowering.
To Churchfield, Simon said, “We requested to speak with you privately, Madam Secretary.”
She said smoothly, “I have no secrets from my staff.”
Simon said, “I suggest you reconsider—”
“You now have three minutes, Lieutenant.”
Simon nodded agreeably. “Martin, your notepad—”
I fished it out and passed it over. He opened to a clean page and began to write.
“Aw, Christ,” Markel said. “What the hell is this?”
Simon tore the page free, folded it in half, and slid it across the table to Churchfield.
She gazed down at it, making no move to pick it up. “I don’t play games, Lieutenant.”
Sarcastic g
rins from the generals. Johnson, the marine, openly laughed.
Simon said, “Please.”
Churchfield reluctantly picked up the paper and unfolded it. The instant her eyes fell on the words, her head gave a little jerk. She stared at Simon.
He nodded once.
Seconds passed. She kept looking at Simon as if trying to make a decision. The generals shifted uncomfortably in their seats. They knew something was wrong. Markel tested the waters, saying, “Well, what is it? What did he write?”
When Churchfield ignored him, he bent forward and tried to read the paper in her hand. She twisted toward him, a hard look. He slowly sat back.
Churchfield’s eyes scanned the generals’ faces. “I want you to leave us.”
Their eyes widened in surprise. They exchanged glances, but no one moved.
“Leave us, gentlemen,” Churchfield repeated more firmly.
Markel coughed. “Uh, Madam Secretary, I don’t think—”
“I gave you an order.” Her voice was like ice.
Markel’s mouth cycled open and closed a few times. He seemed uncertain as to what to do next.
“For the last time,get out of here. ”
Churchfield was glaring at Markel, her nostrils flared. He blinked, too stunned to react. Finally, he rose to his feet, and the other generals followed.
“Take security with you,” Churchfield said.
Markel motioned to Mutt and Jeff. As he trailed them out the door, he looked back at Simon and me with a fierce, almost psychotic look. At that instant, seeing his face, I knew Simon was right. This was someone who could kill a friend who’d wronged him.
Returning my attention to Churchfield, I saw she’d placed the paper on the table. Even though it was upside down, I could easily read the two sentences Simon had written.
General Garber is Colonel Weller’s father.
And below:You are her mother.
The door closed. In the ensuing quiet, we heard the soft rush of air blowing through a vent. For several seconds, Churchfield didn’t say anything. She just kept looking at the paper on the table. As she did, we could see that the emotion of the moment was getting to her. An eyelid twitched, and we noticed a tremble in her upper lip. From his jacket, Simon produced a copy of Weller’s birth certificate and slid it before her. To remove any lingering doubt she still might have.
Churchfield glanced at it, then slowly looked up at Simon. “Have you told Senator Garber?”
“Not yet.”
“How much do you know?”
“We’ve interviewed Mrs. Garber.”
“She told you I was…there?”
She was referring to England. Simon nodded.
She swallowed hard and turned away. “I didn’t think we would get away with it. But Dave—General Markel—said we had to try. That it was our duty to try. When I heard his plan, I thought…I thought maybe he was right. Maybe it would all work out. Somehow…”
Her eyes returned to Simon. “I didn’t do this for myself. I did it for the country—and for women. I…I was the first female defense secretary. If it came out that…the scandal…it would have taken years…decades…until another woman got the opportunity. I had a responsibility, an obligation beyond myself. Do you understand?”
Simon and I nodded sympathetically.
Another silence followed. Churchfield again stared down at the paper with Weller’s name. She closed her eyes briefly, and began to speak haltingly. “I never wanted Mike to know about Tina. I didn’t think he had the right—not after what happened. But Tina kept insisting. She wanted to know who her father was. She said she had a right to know. So I finally told her last month. That’s when she decided to work for him. She wanted to get to know him, understand what he was like. Natural, I suppose. Of course, I knew what would happen next. And it did. She gave me an ultimatum. If I didn’t tell Mike that he was her father, she would. So I had no choice. That’s why I was going to meet him last night. I’d been flying around Europe, trying to shore up support for the war—”
Simon said. “There was no mention in the news that you’d left the country.”
“That was the idea. Our allies insisted the meetings be kept secret. They were concerned my presence would inflame the antiwar movements and the radical left in their countries. My last stop was England. I’d met with the prime minister earlier that day. After the meeting, I received a call from Tina. She told me that she’d already broken the news to Mike. So when I met with him, he already knew. I regretted that; I should have been the one to…”
She trailed off, lost in her thoughts.
Simon said gently, “We need to know everything, from the beginning.”
She gave him a slow blink. Nodded.
“Tell me when you first met General Garber.”
She inhaled deeply and began.
49
Churchfield continued to speak in soft, hesitant tones, pausing occasionally to rein in her emotions. As the story unfolded, we understood why the process of remembering was so difficult.
“We first met in ROTC…at the University of Virginia. Mike was handsome…almost beautiful. I fell for him from the moment I saw him. Love at first sight, you could call it. I was seventeen, impressionable. He was two years older, popular. I never thought he’d notice me. But one day—it was in September—he invited me to spend the Labor Day weekend at his family’s summer house in Virginia Beach. A group from the school were going, so it wasn’t like we were going to be alone. Still, I almost turned him down. I knew why he was asking me. I knew about his reputation, all his girlfriends…But Jesus, he was so damned goodlooking.
“So I accepted. For the first couple of days, Mike was a perfect gentlemen. We talked, got to know each other. It was sweet. Nice. Then the night before we left, we had a big party. Mike drank heavily. Around midnight, he asked me to take a walk along the beach. I could tell he was drunk. I knew I shouldn’t go. But everybody was watching us…watchingme. And I was worried what they would think. You know, that I was some kind of…prude. So I went. Mike took me to a secluded place, near some rocks. He knew right where to go. He’d been there before. As soon as we stopped, I told him that…that I’d never been with someone. A man. I told him I didn’t think I could go through with it. When I said it, he got this strange look. And then he went crazy. He was like…like an animal. I tried to fight him, but…”
She blinked rapidly. “Jesus, this is difficult.”
Simon gave her a moment, then said, “You never pressed charges?”
She shook her head. “The next day he apologized. He said it was the booze. He didn’t know what he was doing. He was so damned sorry that…I don’t know. It sounds crazy, but…but I didn’t hate him. I never could hate him. I suppose that’s why…that’s why I kept his picture. The one he gave me when he made general. Part of me wanted to throw it away. But somehow I couldn’t.”
Simon said gently, “You gave the photograph to your daughter?”
A vague nod. “Tina saw it. She asked to have it.” Her eyes locked on Simon. “What you don’t understand is that Mike was so different when he was sober. It was the alcohol that changed him, brought out his demons. I often thought that if he could have only controlled himself, his urges…But he couldn’t seem to…such a shame…” She trailed off, shaking her head sadly.
At that moment, it occurred to me how much she must have loved him.
Once.
Simon said, “And when you told him you were pregnant?”
“His family…his father…he was a congressman back then. He called me. He offered to pay for an abortion. I initially agreed. But when the time came, I couldn’t go through with it. So I left school and went home to have the baby. My parents helped me put it up for adoption.”
“Did you keep in contact with your daughter?”
A nod. “The Wellers were family friends. I transferred to a college close to where they lived, so I could see Tina, watch her grow up. For years, she thought I was her aunt. I…I
told her the truth when she turned twenty-one. That’s why she joined the air force. Because I was already serving.” She smiled to herself at the thought.
“Did General Markel know Colonel Weller was your daughter?”
“No. No one knew.”
“You asked him to hire her as his aide?”
“Yes. General Markel and I have been close for years. I knew he’d look after her.”
Simon edged forward, tenting his fingers. He lowered his voice, sounding apologetic. “I need to know about last night, Madam Secretary.”
She shut her eyes, as if trying to will the question away. When she opened them, she said, “I could still deny it. All you can prove is that I was there. You have no evidence that I killed anyone.”
Simon’s jaw hardened. “You assured me you would cooperate.”
“I have. I’ve told you—”
“Did you kill General Garber?”
She hesitated. “No. When I left he was alive, and—”
As she answered, I was watching Simon. His face darkened, his lip curling in disgust. He was making a show of being upset with her. He knew he had to appear convincing.Now, I thought.Now he will make his move.
An instant later, he did and in a stunning fashion. Springing from his chair, he replayed my scene with the generals by slapping his hand on the table with an earsplitting crack. Churchfield recoiled in shock.
Before she could recover, Simon leaned over her, speaking harshly. “Do not test my patience, Madam Secretary. You have many enemies. People who don’t think a woman should be in the position you hold. Once I reveal that I believe you are a murderer, you will be finished. The innuendo and suspicion will damn you. Within a month, you will be forced to resign. General Markel, General Johnson, and General Sessler will almost certainly suffer the same fate. To protect yourself, you will destroy their reputations as well as cause great harm to the military. Don’t do it. Choose the honorable path and tell me the truth.Did you kill General Garber? ”
Churchfield’s face turned bright red under his verbal onslaught. She appeared both angry and frightened. She struggled to form a response, but couldn’t get the words out. I watched her, thinking Simon had overplayed his hand. He’d wanted to lay it on thick, but—
A Long Day for Dying Page 33