Silent Witness

by Lindsay McKenna

  “Hodges was mighty unhappy about the Ares Conference interview in the first place, and liked it even less when I rescheduled him once again. He gave me a lot of grief about it.”

  “Hodges is a sourpuss. Unless we get some miracle information out of this morning’s interviews, the bastard will probably skate through without our laying a glove on him.”

  “I understand through Yeoman Camden that Hodges is bringing along an attorney,” Ellen said.

  Snorting, Cochrane sat up, elbows on his desk. “Barring some surprise from Hodges, we’ve got as much chance as a grasshopper in a chicken house full of hungry hens of nailing him.”

  Ellen giggled. “What did I ever do until you walked into my life, Jim? I never realized hill folk had such a rich subculture. All those sayings and ways of looking at the world…”

  “Stick around, gal, and some of it might rub off.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of. But I’d like to stick around, anyway.”

  Picking up the phone, Jim saw the smile on her face. “Music to my ears. You know, Hodges is an arrogant jock.” He gave her a wolfish grin. “It’ll be mighty interesting to see how he sits in this stew pot. This afternoon, we may have to implement my world-famous Plan B. If we play this right, we might get another puzzle piece. Or, Hodges could tuck that puzzle box under his arm and walk away from us,” he growled.

  July 16

  LIEUTENANT COMMANDER Hodges came in at exactly 1300, dressed in his summer white uniform. Cochrane curbed a smile as he surveyed the man. Ribbons representing every medal Hodges owned decorated the left side of his powerful chest. His dark blue eyes were intense, and his thin, weasel-like face was taut with tension. At his side was his expensively attired lawyer, Walter Rapaport, a well-known San Diego military criminal lawyer with whom Jim had sparred on several other cases involving Navy or Marine Corps personnel.

  Rapaport was like a fox to Hodges’s weasel. The dapper attorney had sharp darting eyes and a quick way of talking. This man could manipulate the truth to serve his client. And in keeping with his background as an ex-JAG attorney, his military bearing was impeccable. Cochrane wasn’t sure which man had his shoulders thrown back more, Hodges or Rapaport.

  The men shared one other trait: hyperactive, quick movements.

  Cochrane respected Rapaport. He didn’t respect Hodges. There were differences between foxes and weasels, and Hodges had an innately sneaky air that seemed to ooze out of him no matter how hard he tried to hide behind his Navy uniform.

  “Ya’ll have a seat for this little chat, gentlemen,” Cochrane drawled in his best Missouri accent. He gestured magnanimously to the two chairs directly in front of him and Ellen. She sat to his left, poised and ready with many reports.

  “This is a waste of my valuable time, Mr. Cochrane,” Hodges snarled, dropping his expensive cowhide briefcase on the table next to his seat.

  “Why, Commander, I think you’d complain if you were hanged with a new rope,” Cochrane said, offering him a wolfish grin. Screw Hodges. Jim wasn’t taking his crap lying down. Rapaport started to smile, then glanced at his angry client and seemed to reconsider.

  As Cochrane introduced Ellen to the unflappable attorney, he watched the expression on her face. She unconsciously sat back in her chair, as if threatened by Rapaport’s foxlike smile. Chuckling to himself, Jim rummaged through his notes and questions. This time, he was going to take that proverbial new rope he’d joked about and tighten it around Hodges’s neck. Would the officer break? The bastard was up for commander and wasn’t about to spoil his chances by having anything too substantial turn up in this investigation. So this time Jim would have to resort to subterfuge—of a sort. The question was would Hodges fall for it, hook, line and sinker? A fish had to be caught before it was landed.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  July 16

  “I CONSIDER THIS TO BE a form of harassment,” Hodges began irritably as he signed the papers agreeing to the investigation process. Glancing at his attorney, he added, “And this kind of game could hurt my chances of making commander. I’ve done nothing wrong, yet I’m being dragged in here because of Susan Kane. This sucks.”

  Cochrane put the signed papers aside. Hodges was blowing smoke and they all knew it. Hell, he was so fixed about getting his commander’s gold leaves that he’d jump through any hoops he came to.

  “I think you understand how the commander feels,” Rapaport said soothingly, flashing his foxlike smile at Cochrane.

  “Ya’ll are caught up in this dance and I do understand.” As Jim spread his notes in front of him he noticed an envelope. What was in it? He’d been in such a hurry to get over to Giddings on time that he’d jammed whatever was on his desk into his briefcase. He opened it and pulled out four digital photos. Of course, he didn’t allow Hodges or Rapaport to see these teddy bear photos. Because they were irrelevant to this interview, he placed the photos facedown on the table. “I’ll try to make this as quick and painless as possible, Commander.”

  Hodges seemed distracted by the photos. “I hope the hell you do, Mr. Cochrane.” He dramatically waved his hand. “And why was my appointment for this interview canceled on such short notice the other day? I’m due to go TDY in three hours. I have to fly north for a meeting up in Seattle, and stay overnight. I won’t get back to Giddings until 1400 tomorrow. I need time to pack.”

  “Unfortunate circumstances occurred, Commander. We’re pulled in many different directions, as I’m sure you are in your work. My apologies, sir. It was not done to create stress on you. We’ll make sure you’re out of here in time to go TDY.”

  Hodges sat there, drumming his fingers. “It’s just ridiculous, that’s all. I’m an instructor here. I’ve got flights scheduled. There’s enough built-in stress around here to choke a horse. I don’t need this on top of it.”

  Cochrane slowly rearranged his notes, allowing Hodges to discharge his long-held bile. He’d gotten word via Sharkman Hillyer that the lieutenant commander had been loud and harsh in his opinion of the Kane investigation over at the O Club. Out of the corner of his eye, Jim could see Ellen’s lips tightening. She didn’t like Hodges any more than he did. His pa had a saying for the likes of Hodges: “Son, ya don’t dare sleep alongside a’ him with yore mouth hangin’ open if ya have gold teeth.” Hodges was a real pecker head of the first degree.

  “The lieutenant commander could have the decency to answer our questions,” Ellen said curtly.

  “Easy, Agent Tanner,” Cochrane said. “I’m sure the commander is very busy, and we will conclude this interview as swiftly as possible.”

  Ellen’s mouth compressed. “I have my own questions, Lieutenant Cochrane. I’ll ask them as soon as you’re finished with yours.”

  Hodges scowled at her.

  She scowled back.

  Cochrane could see that Ellen had just gone from an invisible grain of sand to a major burr under Hodges’s saddle. She was now on the officer’s radar screen, and an acute protectiveness welled up in Jim. He wanted to keep Ellen out of the line of fire from this aviator, if possible. “I reckon we can accommodate your request, Agent Tanner.” Jim returned his attention to Hodges, whose focus was still on Ellen. “Commander, if you’ll humor me and tell me what you did at the Ares Conference, I’d appreciate it,” he stated.

  He sat there listening as Hodges went through his expected diatribe. Occasionally, Jim made notations in the margins of the interview transcript they had created over the last week from other officers’ stories. By the time Hodges was done, the man’s thin face was taut, his dark blue eyes narrowed.

  “You’ve left out a lot from what I can tell,” Cochrane noted.

  “Dammit,” Hodges snapped, “it’s the best I can do! The conference was months ago. Memory fades with time.”

  “It was a long time,” Jim agreed sympathetically, picking up his papers and glancing over at Ellen. “You said you had some questions, Agent Tanner?”

  She nodded. “Absolutely, Lieutenant Cochrane
.” She trained her attention on Hodges, who looked at her with open defiance.

  “Commander, did you see Lieutenant Susan Kane at the convention?”

  “No.”

  “That’s odd,” Cochrane said, pointing to his notes, “we have an eyewitness who stated you were present in the third-floor passageway when the groping of women took place, at approximately 1730 on May 15th.”

  “What?” Hodges jerked and glanced at Rapaport, then glared at Jim. “That’s completely false.”

  “Not only that,” Cochrane stated calmly, “but the witness testified you were in the passageway when Lieutenants Hawkins, Jillson and Kane were assaulted. This witness states you took no steps to assist or report the incident like a senior officer should.”

  Flushing, Hodges sputtered, “That’s a blatant lie! There was always a massive crowd in the third-floor passageway. I could’ve passed within two feet of the aforementioned officers and not even seen them, much less witnessed some alleged incident.”

  “Commander,” Ellen said, “two other witnesses place you in the Leopard Radar Corporation suite when a female Navy officer was dragged into the room and then forced to her knees before a dildo by two junior officers. I believe the time was 1700 on May 15th. What can you tell us about that?”

  “Not a damn thing! I don’t recall the aforementioned incident.”

  “Were you in that suite at that time?” Cochrane made sure his tone was derisive. The aviator seemed spooked, and Cochrane wanted to panic him now.

  Sweat popped out on Hodges’s wrinkled brow. “I may have visited that suite at some point during the conference. There were a number of suites and I didn’t keep a log of my activities.”

  “You do remember being at the suite in question when this female Navy officer was dragged in against her will and abused?” Ellen asked.

  “I have no recollection of witnessing any such incident.”

  Ellen continued, “Do you have any idea when you were in the Leopard Radar Corporation suite?” She tinged her tone with disgust, and Hodges’s eyes widened at her unexpected attack.

  “Listen,” the man said. “Everyone visited every suite at numerous times during the conference. I just don’t recall specific times.”

  “Why?” Cochrane pressed.

  “There was a lot going down.”

  “Yes, and it appears some suites hired strippers as floor shows,” Cochrane said.

  “I never said anything about witnessing, much less participating in, these alleged activities. This was a private civilian function, and some defense contractors held private parties in their suites. Haven’t you ever been to a private party where some of the people were drinking, and some may have been dancing of their own volition?”

  Cochrane smiled. “Of course, Commander. I do understand this was a private function and not an official Navy affair.”

  There was a knock on the door. Jim put the tape recorder on Pause and asked whoever it was to enter. When the door opened, he recognized one of the petty officers from the secretarial pool, Yeoman Irene Johnson. She was young, in her midtwenties, with a short cap of shining black hair.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Cochrane, but I was ordered to drive over here by Commander Dornier. A message arrived at your office for Agent Tanner, and the commander felt you needed it right now, for your investigation.” She handed him a large red envelope. He passed it to Ellen.

  “Thank you, Petty Officer Johnson,” Cochrane said. “If you would kindly stand by? Agent Tanner may have a reply.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, then exited.

  Ellen felt all eyes on her as she carefully opened the envelope. It contained a telephone record sheet as well as the official regulations for granting immunity during an investigation. Ellen showed Jim the latter and asked, “Is that what we expected, Lieutenant?”

  “Reckon it is,” he murmured, glancing at the telephone memo she held.

  “I’ll have to call him at the time he requested,” Ellen said briskly.

  “I’m not totally sure where this is going, Agent Tanner.” Cochrane looked at his watch, then glanced over at Hodges, who was staring hard at them, as if trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

  Ellen quickly gathered up the regulations, tucked them into the bright red envelope marked immunity, and slid the documents beneath her other papers. Folding her hands, she smiled sweetly at Hodges, who appeared completely shaken by the unexpected disruption.

  “Go ahead with your questioning, Mr. Cochrane. I apologize for this interruption,” she said.

  Cochrane knew that Hodges and Rapaport were aware that Commander Dornier was his C.O. at JAG. The attorney seemed coolly interested in their ploy. Hodges’s brow was beaded with sweat.

  “For the record, Commander Hodges,” Cochrane began, “can you tell me where you were at 2300 on the night of May 15th?”

  Hodges scowled. “I—” he raised his eyes to the ceiling, as if thinking “—I believe I was in bed by that time. In my room.”

  “What floor was your room located on?” Jim already had the information, but wanted to keep Hodges talking and off balance.

  “I believe it was the fifteenth floor,” Hodges growled.

  “Hmm,” Cochrane said, studying the screen of his laptop. “That’s odd.” He tapped his fingers on the table-top.

  “What’s odd?” Hodges leaned forward, scowling.

  “Are you sure you were in bed at 2300 hours on the night of May 15th?”

  “I don’t care to keep repeating myself. I’ve answered that question to the best of my knowledge.”

  “You weren’t out near the third-floor patio?” Ellen asked, looking over at the paper Jim had underlined in red.

  “I don’t recall.”

  “How about around the elevators?” she asked.

  “I don’t recall.”

  Rapaport leaned forward. “Mr. Cochrane, what’s all this browbeating about? Could you spare my client and just present the evidence?”

  Cochrane lifted his head and pinned Hodges directly with his gaze. “We’ve got a report from an interviewee who identified at the elevator at 2300 on May 15th, you with Susan Kane in your arms. Care to comment, Commander?”

  Hodges’s eyes bulged, and then he caught himself, resuming his mask of confidence. He sat rigidly, and sweat ran down the sides of his temples.

  “I believe the interviewee is mistaken. I’ve already stated where I was to the best of my knowledge.”

  “Come on, Commander,” Cochrane cajoled in his drawl, pointing to the red Immunity envelope sticking out from beneath Ellen’s papers. “This is a Navy aviator like yourself who saw you.”

  “I don’t believe that makes a difference.”

  “Are you calling him a liar, then?”

  Hodges glared. “He’s mistaken!”

  “Answer my question, Commander Hodges.”

  “You have some drunken aviator swearing I was at a location where I wasn’t. This is just so much trash, Lieutenant!”

  Jim shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s a witness statement.”

  Hodges turned to his lawyer. “This is your area of expertise!”

  Rapaport leaned forward. “Really, Mr. Cochrane, you’re busting my client’s balls for no reason. If you have proof, let’s see it. That’s the least you can do for us.”

  A smile appeared at the corners of Cochrane’s mouth. “Mr. Rapaport, our proof would have to be presented at a trial. Of course, it would be on your discovery list.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Hodges leaped out of his chair. “This is harassment! You’re trying to set me up and blame me for something I didn’t do! Dammit, Rapaport, speak up! I’m sure as hell paying you enough to defend me!” he said as he resumed his seat.

  “Lieutenant Cochrane,” Rapaport said smoothly, “had the witness—the one who alleges the commander was present in the elevator at the time stated—been drinking?” He awaited a reply. When none was offered Rapaport continued. “We both know that
my question in regard to the witness having been drinking is meant to address the credibility of the witness’s powers of observation.”

  Ellen glanced at her watch and quickly rose to her feet. “I’m afraid I have to make that telephone call right now, Mr. Cochrane. Would you gentlemen excuse me? I’ll return as quickly as possible to continue my questions of Commander Hodges.”

  Cochrane held up his hand. “Agent Tanner, I don’t believe this is the best way to resolve this particular item.”

  She ignored him and went to the door.

  “Agent Tanner?” He saw Ellen turn and halt.

  “Look, Lieutenant Cochrane, we disagree on procedure. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She left with an air of finality.

  Shaken, Hodges turned to stare at the closed door. “Hey! What’s all this shuffling around about? Are you two just wasting my time?” He leaped to his feet and stalked toward the door, clearly ready to leave in turn. “This song and dance is just to bust me, isn’t it, Lieutenant?”

  “Calm down,” Rapaport snapped at him. “Come and sit back down, Commander Hodges.”

  The officer stood his ground. “This is an abuse of power. First I have to give this time-wasting interview, then it’s canceled at the last minute. They get this goddamn envelope and then Miss DOD leaves in a rush. I won’t stand for this.”

  Cochrane held up his hands. “Reckon we’re sorry for these unexpected intrusions, Commander. They’re not of our making, believe me. Let me make amends?” He smiled. “How about a coffee break? We’ll get this interview back on track after Agent Tanner returns. Is that fair? Walt, what do you say?”

  The lawyer shrugged. “I suppose a short break might be in order. But I would feel better if this could be concluded as quickly as possible.”

  Cochrane rose. “Let’s go down to the coffee station.” He opened the door. Yeoman Johnson stood at parade rest at the end of the passageway, and he motioned her over.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Kindly remain in our interview room to keep it secure, Yeoman? We’ll be stepping out for a moment.” Jim could not have their interview room or the evidence compromised.