Silent Witness

by Lindsay McKenna

  “Yes, sir.” She went into the room and firmly shut the door after they trailed out.

  Once in the passageway, Cochrane walked with Hodges and Rapaport past classrooms in session. Halfway down the corridor Hodges slowed his steps. His lips parted and his eyes broadcast surprise. Inside another office stood Agent Tanner with Lieutenant Michelson. She was near the door, handing a bright red file to the man. Michelson took the file, then looked up. His eyes narrowed when he saw Hodges standing at the partly opened door. Hodges hesitated before he strode on ahead of Cochrane and Rapaport. A look of rage and betrayal was written all over his flushed face.

  ELLEN SMILED REASSURINGLY at Michelson and gestured for him to follow her. She deliberately didn’t look down the hallway where Jim, Hodges and the lawyer had gone. After opening the door to their interview room, Ellen nodded to Yeoman Johnson, who stood at parade rest near their table.

  “Thank you, Yeoman,” she said, then picked up some papers from the desk. As she did so, the photos were revealed, their white sides up. “Here, will you take these documents back to my other office and set them on my desk, please?”

  Johnson snapped to attention and briskly took the proffered papers. “Of course, ma’am.”

  “Thank you. That will be all, Yeoman.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Michelson’s eyes narrowed on the photos. “What are those?” he demanded in a tight voice.

  Ellen leaned over the desk, searching for another paper he needed to sign. “What?” She lifted her head and followed his pointing finger. “Oh, those. Just evidence.” He didn’t need to see the photos of Susan’s teddy bear Jim had taken earlier at the condo. She quickly found the red Immunity envelope and deliberately placed it on top of them. Looking up, she said, “Here you go, Lieutenant. If you’ll just sign this release form saying your interview is concluded and the report finalized for us, you can go. You’ll be all done.”

  Michelson was still staring, like a man who had been gut shot. His eyes were huge. His mouth was open and the look of disbelief on his face surprised her. Why was Michelson coming unglued? Stymied, Ellen waved the paper in front of him. “Lieutenant?”

  “What? Oh, yeah.” Michelson grabbed her pen and signed the paper with a shaky hand. His handwriting was nearly illegible, and Ellen was tempted to ask if anything was wrong. But she knew better. Not only that, her analytical mind told her that Michelson was intensely paranoid over the content of the photos. The man definitely was hiding something important.

  “That’s all. Thanks,” she said.

  Michelson kept his eye on the red Immunity envelope, then looked at Agent Tanner. His scowl deepened as he straightened up and squared his shoulders. Opening his mouth as if to speak, Michelson seemed to think the better of it, spun abruptly on his heel and strode out the door.

  AT THE COFFEE STATION, Jim watched as Hodges poured himself a cup with trembling hands. The man kept looking back up the passageway where they’d spotted Michelson and Ellen.

  “What’s Michelson doing here?” Hodges demanded.

  “Reckon I can’t answer that,” Jim drawled, sipping his coffee. “He contacted Agent Tanner by telephone early this morning. Apparently, Lieutenant Michelson is concerned about his interview.”

  Hodges wiped his brow. “His Ares interview?”

  “I expect so. Lieutenant Michelson specifically asked to speak only to Agent Tanner. It may appear that I’m in charge of this investigation, but Agent Tanner has the links with Washington, D.C., and mine are to the Navy.” He gave a wry smile. “Does that tell you who’s in charge?”

  Hodges’s eyes bulged, and his coffee slopped dangerously, nearly spilling across his hand.

  “It’s a shame that this Ares Conference is turning officer against officer,” Jim continued in a low tone. “Since we’re able to create a worldwide network of information about the conference, with almost instant reporting, we can access any officer’s story and either corroborate it or discover its discrepancies. Yup, one little word typed in, and it goes into the big computer back in D.C. All kinds of valuable information come whipping back to us in no time. For example, we typed in ‘a woman in uniform’ to track the testimony about the elevator. You should have seen what came back. Impressive.”

  “I—I thought Michelson was done with his interview?”

  “Well, he was,” Jim admitted hesitantly. “But he made an appointment with Agent Tanner and she faxed Washington, D.C., for some authorization forms.”

  “Authorization?”

  Jim nodded gravely. “I really shouldn’t discuss this any further.” None of it was a lie. Michelson had done exactly that, because he wanted a transcript of his interview sent to his lawyer to make sure the i’s were dotted and the t’s crossed.

  Hodges went pale.

  “We’ve been watching the wall break,” Cochrane said to Rapaport, ignoring Hodges completely. “You know how the aviation arm has this code of silence, that no brother will snitch on another brother? Well, it’s breaking down, Walt. Not only that, but we have amassed nearly one hundred photos from that conference. Imagine that, aviators identifying other aviators. There’s a scramble to be granted immunity.”

  Rapaport frowned. “So a source is protected from prosecution if he’ll testify against other pilots?”

  “That’s it in a nutshell, Walt.”

  “That type of testimony very rarely holds up under cross-examination,” the lawyer muttered. “The pilot with the immunity can be portrayed as a highly unreliable witness. Any lawyer knows that.”

  Hodges stared down the passageway. “Michelson is giving more testimony? More than his original interview?”

  Cochrane shrugged. “I can’t comment on your question, Commander. A person can be cleared at a trial, but the Navy is a closed community. His career might be tarnished just from allegations.”

  Hodges’s mouth was a straight line, hiding his obviously explosive feelings. He set the cup down on the counter with such a bang the contents sloshed out.

  Cochrane turned to Rapaport. “I’d like just a moment with your client, Walt.”

  Before the attorney could say anything, Cochrane gripped Hodges by the elbow and led him about ten feet away from the coffee dispenser. “I thought you should see this.” He drew the digital photo of Susan Kane on the hotel bed and turned it over so the officer could see.

  Hodges instantly grew white and sucked in a hard breath.

  “What do you say, Commander? Can you and I talk, officer to officer—without your attorney present? No outsiders. If you do this, it’s off-the-record. You could tell me what really happened—”

  “Where’d you get that picture?” Hodges rasped, his eyes widening enormously.

  “Isn’t it enough that I have it?” Cochrane said.

  Hodges snapped another glance down the passageway, his gaze pinned on Michelson, who stood stiffly outside the interview room. “Son of a bitch,” he snarled under his breath.

  “Mr. Cochrane,” Rapaport protested, walking over to them, “you can’t talk to my client without—”

  “Get lost, Rapaport,” Hodges ordered sharply.

  Cochrane slipped the photo into his pocket before the attorney could see it.

  “I’m talking to Lieutenant Cochrane, officer to officer. Butt out,” Hodges said.

  “Commander, are you quite sure you want to do this?” Rapaport asked, sounding stunned.

  “He said it’s off-the-record. It can’t be offered as evidence,” Hodges said.

  “What can’t?” Rapaport asked, assessing his client closely.

  “Never mind,” Hodges muttered. “This is between Mr. Cochrane and me. I don’t need your services anymore. Just send me your bill.”

  Rapaport stood there in shock. “Well…of course.” He turned away.

  Cochrane looked grimly at Hodges after the attorney had disappeared down the passageway. “Shall we take a stroll back to the interview room, Commander Hodges?”

  As they walked along
the corridor, Hodges said, “I know where you got that photo. Michelson is snitching on me.”

  “I’m not at liberty to divulge where this photo came from, Commander.”

  “Hell, I can see the handwriting on the wall. Why would Michelson be here now? He wants to save his and his admiral daddy’s asses.”

  “A good point,” Cochrane said. “Reckon you might be a sacrificial lamb in all of this. He may be trying to save his career. But immunity is a fool’s path, by the time it’s granted—if it is granted. The guy is considered an unreliable legal witness, and his career in the Navy just turns to crap.”

  Wiping his brow, Hodges muttered, “Christ, I don’t know what I should do.”

  “You talk and I’ll expose Michelson for the weak bastard he is. And I’ll be able to keep Kane’s photo out of a Washington show trial. Otherwise, I’ll just let Agent Tanner run with this. And even though we both know any charges will be thrown out in court, your career will still be down the tubes, Commander.”

  “Yes. I’ll tell you.”

  Cochrane nodded. “Nowadays, it’s hard to know whom to trust.” Because Ellen used a red file for Michelson’s authorization papers, Hodges thought it was an immunity agreement. It wasn’t, of course, but that had been Cochrane’s ace-in-the-hole to make the commander break. His conscience was clear since their Plan B ruse had done the job. Hodges was going to talk.

  “He’s broken the code,” Hodges said. “Michelson took immunity, turned over the photo and squealed. I’ll be goddamned if I’m going down on this alone. I’ve worked too damn hard for my rank.”

  THEY ARRIVED BACK at the interview room and shut the door. Ellen nodded curtly in Hodges’s direction.

  “Commander Hodges is willing to tell us what really happened, Agent Tanner.” Cochrane gave her a significant glance that said in effect, play along. “The testimony he gives will be off-the-record.” Jim turned on the tape recorder, explaining to Hodges that it was not legally admissible but they had to have a copy of this interview. Hodges agreed.

  Ellen barely nodded. “If you think that’s best, Lieutenant Cochrane.”

  Cochrane motioned to the chair. “I do, Agent Tanner.” He turned his attention to the aviator. “Commander?”

  Hodges slowly sat down and wiped the sweat off his upper lip.

  “Tell me about the photo of Susan Kane on that bed. At least, your side of the story,” Cochrane said.

  “I don’t like being framed for what happened,” he snarled. “By God, I know there’s not enough hard evidence. Whatever Michelson expects to accomplish out of this will not benefit anyone. Especially Kane. She’s dead.”

  “What happened after you and Kane were seen at the elevator? She was in your arms that night, and we have witnesses to prove it. Are you ready to tell us the truth?” Cochrane asked.

  Hodges got up and paced. “Hell yes, I am. Kane had it coming. The bitch.”

  “Had what coming?” Cochrane asked.

  “She came to me demanding I report Michelson and Bassett to hotel security for roughing up Hawkins a little in the Leopard Radar suite.” He halted and looked angrily at Cochrane. “Any woman who went up on the third floor was fair game and everyone knew it. What did they expect? When they were groped a little, Kane got her nose bent out of joint. She came running to me afterward, telling me Hawkins was in shock. I laughed at her and told her she shoulda had more sense than to go up there in the first place.”

  “What was her reaction?” Cochrane asked.

  “She got pissed off. As usual.” Hodges threw up his hands. “It took some fast talking on my part to keep her from going to the Reno police to report the incident. I told her I’d take care of it, and the people involved would be punished. I managed to talk her into having a drink with me at the patio bar to seal the deal. I put Rohypnol in her drink while we sat at the swimming pool bar. She didn’t know it and started getting woozy. I hauled her up the elevator. Some guy came into the elevator with us and I told him she was my girlfriend and was drunk. We both had a good laugh over it.” Frowning, he muttered, “We took her to my room.”

  “Who’s ‘we’?” Cochrane demanded.

  “Michelson, Bassett and myself.” With a grimace, he said, “I wanted Kane to keep her mouth shut about what happened to Hawkins in the Leopard suite. I wasn’t going to do anything I promised her about nailing the guys there. We figured if we stripped her to her waist, put her in my bed, took my web belts, threw them around her wrists and tied them to the bedposts, that would do it. I took five digital photos of her in that position. She was unconscious and didn’t remember anything. We forced her lids open so it looked like she was awake.”

  “Why?” Ellen demanded tightly. She glared at the sweaty aviator.

  “To blackmail her.” He looked beseechingly at Cochrane. “You understand. If Kane put us up on charges, everyone’s career was down the tubes. The photos were meant to force her to keep her mouth shut about what happened to Hawkins. That was all.”

  Hodges wiped the film of sweat off his brow and cast a look around, first at Ellen, then at Jim. “We bundled her up in a blanket, went down the emergency stairs and took her back to her room to sleep off the drug. No one saw us do it. I’ve used Rohypnol before. Women don’t remember anything the next morning. I know Kane didn’t recall anything about it, so we were safe. I kept all five photos with me to show them to her later, once we got back to the station, to ensure she kept her mouth shut about the conference.”

  “But something went wrong when Kane came back to the station,” Cochrane said, trying to keep the venom out of his tone. “What else happened?”

  Hodges cast a feral look around the room. He grabbed the glass of water that sat in front of him and took a gulp. His Adam’s apple bobbed dramatically. When he was done, he set the glass aside and wiped his mouth. “Everything was smooth when we got back from the conference. Kane didn’t report us. She stayed in her office and taught her classes. All seemed to be forgotten.”

  “She knew you had the photos?” Ellen asked.

  “No, not at first. When we got back to Giddings, I made a point of going to her office that first day. I mentioned our little drink to resolve our differences and that everyone had parted amicably. I told her she’d left us at the bar and went over to talk with some other aviators. Given the fact that she woke up the next morning naked, with a hangover, and a pair of men’s skivvies in her room, I believe she thought she got drunk and slept with someone.”

  “Did this affect her job performance?”

  “No, it didn’t appear to have any impact on her flying or teaching skills.”

  “So what happened next?” Cochrane asked.

  With a grimace, Hodges said, “I was jumpy because I knew I was going to make the commanders list. Michelson and Bassett were worried because they were lieutenants, and both knew the shit would run downhill in this man’s Navy if Kane decided to spill the beans. She came to me one day demanding that I turn in the men from the Leopard suite. It was then I realized we’d have to shut her up. If we silenced Kane permanently, we could save our careers.”

  “Whose idea was it to go to Kane and blackmail her into silence?”

  Hodges hesitated, looked up at the ceiling, then down at his clasped hands. “Mine, I guess.”

  “You guess?” Cochrane pressed.

  “Okay, it was my idea, dammit!”

  “Tell us how it went down,” Cochrane said.

  “I told Kane that she had to get out of the Navy, after I showed her the photo. She said it wasn’t fair.” Snorting violently, Hodges flashed them an angry look. “Fair? Just what the hell is ever fair in life? My mother gave me up for adoption because she didn’t want me. You two tell me, what the hell was fair about that? I got passed through a series of foster homes until I was eighteen. I wanted to make something of myself, anyway. I was going to make them all sorry they didn’t want me. I chose a career that everyone would envy, where everyone would point to me and say how great and smart a
nd brave I was.

  “Not only was I going to be a fighter pilot flying the hottest, fastest planes in the world, I was going to be the best damn pilot in the world. Well, here I am—a Top Gun instructor. It doesn’t get any better than this. I have the respect of everyone—with the exception of Susan Kane.

  “You know,” Hodges continued, relaxing slightly, “I finally hunted down my real mother after all those years. I kept bugging the hospital until they gave me her name.” He laughed sharply. “Know where I found her? She was an alcoholic married to a coal miner in northeast Ohio. When I met her, I froze. This small, thin woman with a narrow, pinched face staring back at me from the door, looking at me through those drunk, watery blue eyes of hers. She was in her forties, but she looked sixty. Her hair was gray. I’ll never forget it. My God, she had a hard face. I stood there staring at her and not believing I came out of the body of that woman.

  “And then, her big, potbellied husband came to the door, beer on his breath. He was in a dirty white T-shirt, his jeans had holes in them and they were hitched up under all that flesh with an old leather belt.” Hodges sneered and lifted his chin.

  “They were both filthy. Their house was a tin shack and they lived in filth. I ran off their rickety front porch, dived into my rental car and took off just as fast as I could. I couldn’t believe that was my mother. Once I got on the highway, I swore I’d never end up like her. She was a drunken old bitch. Worthless. She’d have done better putting a gun to her head and blowing out her brains, as far as I was concerned. She had no right to live.”

  “But why take all that out on Susan?” Ellen’s voice was thin with disbelief.

  He smiled at her coldly. “Women are good for only one thing, and that’s screwing. She marched in here to Top Gun thinking she was Miss Goody Two-shoes. Kane always thought she was better than us—”

  “That’s not true!” Ellen protested. Her breathing was chaotic. She actually wanted to hit Hodges! The impulse was so real her fingers closed into a fist. Startled by the power of her rage, she quickly relaxed her hand beneath the table.