In the Name of Honor

by Richard North Patterson

  three

  WHEN TERRY FOUND MEG WAITING FOR HIM, HER EXPRESSION filled with resignation, he knew at once that Brian had called her. Looking at him steadily, she said, “So you know.”

  Terry sat across from her, fighting to tame his hurt and anger and humiliation. “It wasn’t hard. Once I realized that you’re a gifted liar, relentlessly manipulative, and wholly lacking in conscience, that became the organizing principle for a fresh look at the facts. From that perspective, you’re the most impressive woman I’ve ever met.”

  Meg’s eyes went dead. “Is that all you have to say, Paul?”

  “Hardly. I’m not through praising your abilities. Any garden-variety sociopath can take a run at orchestrating a cover-up that includes perjury and obstruction of justice. But few of them are lawyers, and fewer yet have duped their co-counsel into fronting for them. And the speed and spontaneity you brought to the work is a real area of strength.” Draining the derision from his voice, Terry spoke in a clipped tone. “Flynn thought Brian called Kate to tell her D’Abruzzo was dead. But it was you, wasn’t it?”

  Meg held his gaze, as though determined not to look away. “When Brian told me about Kate and our father, I saw what might happen. So I went to an empty office and used someone else’s phone.” Meg lowered her voice, the only hint of her emotions. “I told Kate that Joe was dead, and to expect to hear from CID. She understood that revealing her affair with our father would only do harm to everyone.”

  From her manner and expression, Meg could have been discussing legal strategy. “What amazes me,” Terry said sardonically, “is your ability to see the central issue. A lesser woman might have stopped to consider that a man was dead. But you went right to what really mattered: covering up your father’s affair, while covering your own tracks.”

  “Don’t be that impressed,” Meg said quietly. “You’d have seen it, too. If Kate had volunteered that she was sleeping with my father, the CID might have thought that Brian killed Joe to protect his father’s reputation. More than that, Dad and Kate’s pathetic lapse would have devastated two families, to no purpose.” Meg expelled a breath. “All Kate and Brian needed to do was tell the truth about their roles, including that they weren’t lovers. And I was certain they wouldn’t have to lie about my father. Because CID would never think to ask if Kate and General McCarran were involved.”

  “Then there’s the general himself,” Terry said. “I assume that he was willing to cooperate.”

  “Only when I explained his options.” Meg folded her hands in front of herself, still watching Terry’s eyes. “I took a red-eye that night. The next morning I met Brian, then Kate, and found out what they’d said. After that I went to see my father and told him that I knew about his affair.

  “That made him pliable, for once—shame will do that. So I extracted a very thorough accounting of how they’d managed their meetings, and how likely it was that they’d be discovered. He told me about the cash, the secret cell phone, and all the steps they’d taken to avoid being seen together—”

  “And you realized that concealment was a McCarran family trait.”

  “Have it your way, Paul. But I thought there was a pretty fair chance their affair would never surface.” Meg’s voice became faintly ironic. “As for my father, it was a little late for him to be worried about his tarnished honor. If he chose to fall on his sword in public, others would pay the price—quite likely his son, and certainly Rose. We owed this much to her.”

  Despite Terry’s anger, probing how Meg’s mind worked held a certain fascination. “So you volunteered your services to keep the cover-up in place, and monitor Brian’s lawyer.”

  “That’s not the reason. I was far more worried about Brian’s defense than about my father. I was simply protecting a family secret that would poison lives if it came out. I never imagined what would happen because of that decision.”

  “Including the grim necessity of fucking me.”

  Meg gazed at him. In a diminished voice, she said, “I can understand how you might think that—”

  “It’s not that big a leap. You’ve been the family caretaker ever since you found your mother in the bathtub. Sleeping with me is nothing compared to risking everything you’ve worked for.” Terry’s tone was etched with pity and disdain. “All this cleverness in the service of your own destruction. Being a McCarran has blinded you.”

  This seemed to deflate her. For the first time, Meg looked away. “Joe was dead,” she said dully. “And Kate hadn’t told anyone who she’d been sleeping with. I didn’t anticipate that Joe would start mumbling the name McCarran at the Officers’ Club bar. Once you told me that, everything changed.”

  “When I told you that,” Terry amended, “you started sleeping with me. Maybe then it wouldn’t occur to me that you went to Brian and Kate without me, serving as the go-between to orchestrate their perjury. Thanks to your efforts, the three of you were always one jump ahead of me. I was the only one left in the dark.”

  Meg looked up at him. “That’s true. But I didn’t need to sleep with you to do that. Who would ever believe that Brian would confess to an affair he hadn’t had? Especially when that gave Flynn the motive he was looking for.” Her voice softened. “Cover-ups and lies are supposed to get a suspect out of trouble, not buy him a court-martial on murder charges. No wonder you and Flynn bought Brian’s ‘confession.’ ”

  “So why did you help him do it?”

  Meg’s eyelids lowered, as though she was recalling a fateful moment of decision. “Brian wanted me to stay out of this. If I exposed my father’s affair, Brian told me, he’d plead to a murder charge—”

  “And you actually believed that?” Terry said in an incredulous tone. “Brian’s terrified of prison.”

  “I know that. But I also know my brother, and what happened to him in Iraq.” Meg’s voice fell. “Our mother committed suicide. What I believed was that if Brian ended up in prison—either because he pled guilty or because he was convicted—he’d kill himself before sentencing. I made the only choice I could. I never thought Joe’s death was about my father’s affair—”

  “Even Brian knows better,” Terry snapped. “This case is all about the McCarrans and the Gallaghers. If your father hadn’t slept with Kate, her husband would still be alive. Everything that followed from that put Joe’s gun in Brian’s hands. You understand better than anyone what a farce this trial has been.”

  Meg bowed her head. Terry watched the resistance seep from her body, and her features slacken with defeat. “You still don’t understand, Paul. Dad showed the suicide note to Rose.”

  The reference was so removed from the present that at first Terry did not absorb it. Then he asked, “When did you find that out?”

  “When I confronted my father about the affair. That was when it all came out—his loneliness, his regret, his decision not to marry Rose.”

  Terry laughed harshly. “The McCarrans have a gift for airbrushing their own history. Rose refused to marry him—otherwise, she thought, you’d never accept her love or support. You’d always believe she wanted your real mother dead.”

  Meg’s eyes changed again, surprise replacing sorrow. “Who told you that?”

  “The only honest person in your extended family. Or, at a minimum, the least self-deluding.”

  Meg folded her arms, as if hugging herself. “Whoever made the decision, it really doesn’t matter anymore. I drove the two of them apart. Otherwise they’d have married, and Dad would be Kate’s stepfather, not her lover—”

  “For God’s sake, Meg.”

  Her eyes flashed with emotion. “I hated him for telling me, and I hate myself for showing him my mother’s note. But I also saw the whole thing clearly. Kate was my father’s last chance to live his dream of Rose.” She caught herself, speaking with a controlled intensity. “He was stunted inside. He stayed with my mother out of duty and walled up whatever else he needed in the strictures of honor and religion and military discipline. When Kate came to him,
the wall broke. He craved love so desperately that he violated the code he lived by and every boundary within our families. Then Joe’s discovery awakened him from his dream.

  “The reality of what he’d done was shattering. When I faced him down, there was an almost physical sense of torment. Like with Brian, I didn’t know what he might do.”

  “He’s tougher than that,” Terry retorted. “He’s a general—people sacrifice for him, even his children, his lover, and the widow of his best friend. They’ve been doing that all his life. That’s how he became the presumptive next chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”

  “You didn’t see how guilty he feels—”

  “He’ll get over it. Whatever the reason for his ambitions, they’ve taken over everyone else’s life.” The visceral sense of her betrayal swept Terry along. “Even now, you don’t see yourself. You think you’re in control—that’s the conceit that drives you. But you’re not in charge of anything. Your loyalty to family trumps your loyalty to the law, and any ability you might have to build a life that’s your own. Now you’re sitting here in the ashes, looking at the man you’ve forced to ruin your life instead of taking you to Costa Brava.”

  Meg turned white. Savagely, Terry said, “Disbarment is what happens to lawyers who lie on the witness stand, and solicit lies from others. I owe you nothing, Meg. My debt is to the ethics of our profession, and to my own career.” Terry steadied his voice. “As to the McCarrans, only one of you is my client. I could reopen the case, recall you, your father, and Kate as witnesses, and prove that Brian wasn’t involved with her. There goes motive.”

  Meg’s lips parted. For moments Terry watched her struggle to master her emotions. Tonelessly she said, “You’d make Brian a liar for the second time, and accomplish nothing. No one would believe he did this for Rose, instead of Dad. Someone who risked his freedom to cover up for his father is capable of murdering the man who could destroy his father’s career. So even if Brian allowed you to go ahead, which I don’t believe, you wouldn’t be doing it to help him—only yourself.

  “You’ve got a perfect right to do that, Paul. But you can save yourself simply by withdrawing from the case.” She paused, then added with quiet asperity, “Though that would deprive you of the pleasure of exposing all the rest of us.”

  “Not entirely,” Terry said coldly. “If I ask to withdraw from the case, I’ll have to give Hollis a reason. There’s only one: a fundamental disagreement with my client. Hollis will know what it is, and so will Flynn: that I found out that Brian has misled the court. After that, Flynn will uncover the truth quickly enough.”

  From her expression, Meg saw the accuracy of this. At length she said, “You have another choice.”

  “Which is?”

  Her tone expressed a desperate fervor. “You weren’t part of the cover-up, Paul—you put on the evidence in good faith. You still can give a closing argument for Brian.”

  “On what grounds? I can’t base my argument on perjured testimony. Otherwise I’d be throwing legal ethics out the window, along with my career.” Terry’s voice softened. “You’d be astonished how much that means to me, Meg. But then the Terrys aren’t the McCarrans, if only because my father’s sense of shame actually caused him to kill himself. Maybe that’s the difference between a general and an accountant. But I’m not interested in suicide—literally or figuratively—”

  “I’m not asking you to do that,” Meg cut in urgently. “You don’t have to rely on perjured testimony. Your argument is that Brian killed Joe not because of an affair, but as a necessary act of self-defense.” She paused. “Brian may be guilty of perjury. But you know why he lied. Do you really think that makes him guilty of murder?”

  “I have no idea,” Terry said curtly. “I do know that saving Brian means saving all the rest of you. Especially you. Forgive me for wondering if you want me to risk my future to save yours.”

  Meg’s voice was parched. “You don’t know me at all, do you? You’ve accused me of being a better McCarran than a lawyer. Maybe so. But what hurt me even more was misleading you.” She leaned forward, looking into his face. “I told you the truth today, every damning detail. I risked our relationship, and my brother and father, rather than lie to you anymore. All I can do now is appeal to your sense of honor.”

  “ ‘Honor,’ ” Terry repeated sarcastically. “Knowing all your family did, I should help you in the name of honor.”

  “Yes,” Meg said with quiet intensity. “All Brian did was mislead you. That happens to defense lawyers all the time. Now it’s happened to you—probably not for the first time, certainly not for the last, and never for a better reason. Would it make you feel better if he spends his life in prison?”

  Terry felt twisted up by misgivings and distrust. Bitterly, he said, “You really are good, Meg. Nothing can stop you from playing me to the end. Speaking personally, my only consolation is that I could never trust you completely. At least now I know that it wasn’t just about some deep incapacity in me—that I’d felt so alone for so long that I couldn’t give myself to anyone without holding part of me back.” He paused, then finished in a flatter tone: “If you want to know what happens to the rest of you, come to court on Monday. Now please get out of my sight.”

  For a moment her eyes shut. Then she stood, belatedly remembering her purse, and left without speaking or looking at him.

  four

  TERRY WAS ALONE.

  Perhaps he had been alone since the day his father killed himself. As the time crept by, this memory of abandonment struck him with new force. He did not need his dream to feel it again.

  Since that day, he had known that he must make it on his own. Now he had reached the brink of the success he craved. All that blocked his way was Brian McCarran.

  Sequestered in his apartment, Terry called no one—for this, there was no one to call. Instead, he holed up in his living room, lying motionless on his couch for hours at a time. Until Monday, at least, he was still trapped in the force field of the McCarrans—Tony and Mary; Jack and Rose; Kate and Joe; Brian and Meg. He cursed himself for his blindness.

  What had he wanted from her, and she from him?

  But another question was far more fateful and immediate. Intermittently, he read discussions of legal ethics on the Internet, scouring the treacherous and murky margins of the law. Like it or not, for now he remained Brian McCarran’s lawyer.

  Early Saturday evening, the buzzer to his apartment rasped.

  Startled, Terry imagined which McCarran it might be: Meg or Brian? Meg, he decided, come to plead her case again. Waiting must be agony for her.

  Pressing the button to the intercom, Terry thought of Brian admitting Joe D’Abruzzo. “Who is it?” he demanded.

  “Anthony McCarran.”

  Fresh anger coursed through Terry. He considered not responding, but could not see what he would gain from this. Pressing the button, he opened the door to his apartment.

  Unlike D’Abruzzo, McCarran took the elevator. Down the hall, Terry heard it empty its passenger with a sclerotic rumble. A few footfalls later General Anthony McCarran stood in Terry’s doorway.

  “What do you want?” Terry asked coldly.

  McCarran looked somber but composed. “To talk with you. May I come in, Captain?”

  This reminder of rank stoked Terry’s rage. He paused before curtly nodding McCarran inside.

  The general sat on the couch, his angular frame leaning toward Terry in a posture that suggested both entreaty and command. In a quiet voice he asked Terry, “What do you mean to do?”

  There was no point in preliminaries, Terry decided. “That’s my concern, and none of your business. Of all the people whose fate I control, you’re the one I care about least.”

  A trace of resentment showed in McCarran’s eyes. Even now, he was not used to disdain from a junior officer. “I’m not here for myself,” he said stiffly, “but as a father.”

  “I’m touched. But you’re way too late.” Terry waited f
or a moment, watching McCarran’s eyes. “You asked me a question, General. Given your sense of honor, what would you do?”

  McCarran’s face hardened. “I’m not here to explain myself, if that’s what you want.”

  “You don’t need to,” Terry said. “According to Meg, Kate was your second chance at Rose Gallagher. Or, as I see it, your reprisal against Rose for not marrying you. After all, Rose has done so little for you.”

  The contempt in Terry’s voice surfaced the steel in McCarran’s gray-blue eyes. “What interests me more,” Terry continued, “is how you rationalized sacrificing your own son to save your reputation and career. Let alone that you expect me to do the same.”

  “I don’t,” McCarran responded. “Nor did I ask that of Brian. By the time Meg told me that he and Kate had lied, Flynn believed that it was true. She said that I had put everyone at risk with Kate, and that coming forward now would make matters even worse. That she was taking over—”

  “Making Meg the architect, and you her pawn. What narcissistic crap. You knew what would happen, General—a trial rife with perjury, a travesty of everything you claim to value. But not as much as you value yourself. The rest of us are bit players, as dispensable as soldiers on a battlefield.” Terry paused. “Among other things, you owe me an apology. But I don’t respect you enough to want that. I’ll get my satisfaction some other way.”

  McCarran’s aquiline face showed nothing. “Then we’re alike. You think I sacrificed my children to protect my own ambitions. And now you propose to ruin them to save yours, in the process visiting misery on Rose and Kate and her two children—”

  “You selfish bastard,” Terry said savagely. “You betrayed every one of them. Now I owe them the debts you refused to pay?” He caught himself, lowering his voice. “For years I envied people with a ‘real family.’ Thank God I’m not part of yours.

  “Look at all of you. You’re like a cult of the sacred dead. You’ve become the hero figure, demanding sacrifice from those who follow as you sate your own ambitions by invoking the McCarran tradition. But you’re no different than the alcoholic father in a family that covers for him.” Leaning forward, Terry stared into McCarran’s face. “Denial is the glue that binds you. None of you trusts anyone else with the truth, not even each other. Yet all of you maintain this insane belief that being a ‘McCarran’ has meaning, when each of you is miserably, achingly, lonely. You’re the only one who ever profited, and now it’s even caught up with you. If you become chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, you’ll still be a hollow man. Worse, you know it. But getting there at the expense of the others is all you’ve got left.”