Fifteen minutes later, they found the admiral coming out of the weight room, which, at midmorning, was not crowded. He must have been really pushing it, she thought.
His face was taut and shiny with perspiration, and there were red splotches on his cheeks and throat. His gym clothes were also soaked, and he was rubbing his upper chest and face with a towel when he caught sight of them.
“Gonna be a sweaty workout in those street clothes,” he said with a weary grin. Karen and Train were conspicuous in their office attire.
“Good morning, Admiral,” she said. “We need to talk for a minute.”
“Fire away,” he said, wiping himself down again. He took a deep breath and whooshed it out while bending over.
He had the physique of a man in his mid-thirties and was in prime condition. If Train looked like an oak tree in his Japanese jacket, the admiral looked more like a professional tri athlete.
“Okay,” he said, straightening up. “Got both lungs back in synch. But now I need to walk that session off. Mr. von Rensel, good morning.”
“Yes, sir,” Train said as they fell in with the admiral, who headed down the main hallway of the club. Train was glancing at Karen, as if to say, When are we going to tell him? They reached the back exit door and stepped outside into the.warm-up area. Karen stepped to one side so as not to obstruct the people coming and going from the building.
Sherman, still needing to walk, frowned, but then he looked at her face.
“So what’s the matter?” he asked.
“I got a call from the police this morning,” she began.
“Ah. That syringe business?”
“No, sir. It was Detective Mcnair, and he was at Vice Admiral Schmidt’s home in Ntclean.”
“Galen?” he said, staring hard at her. “Galen Schmidt?
What’s happened?”
She took a deep breath. “I’m afraid he’s had a heart at tack. He … he didn’t survive it. His housekeeper found him this morning and called nine-one-one.”
“No!” he exclaimed. “Damn and blast. He was just-I mean, Wednesday night. At the memorial service. He was fine. He’s-are you sure he’s gone? Mrs. Murray couldn’t revive him? She was trained for that. The housekeeper, I mean.” He looked from her face to Train’s, as if hoping one of them would say this wasn’t true.
She shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I’m guessing it happened after she went home. The reason Detective Mcnair called me was because he found a notepad or piece of paper that had your name on it. And Elizabeth Walsh’s. And something about a SEAL.”
“Right. Sure,” Sherman said.
“That’s what I went over to talk to him about. Tuesday night. God, this is like losing my father again. Just a great guy, Karen. Damned heart just gave out. He’d been a heavy smoker.
Goddamn it! I better get out there. Mrs. Murray will be a wreck.” He had begun walking around in a little circle, his body demanding a cooldown but his mind obviously hurtling elsewhere. For a moment, she thought she saw the makings of tears in his eye.
“I’m very sorry, Admiral,” she said softly. Train was staring down at the concrete.
“Yeah. Damn. Not a good week here. First Elizabeth, now Galen Schmidt.
Not a good week at all. And damn that cop. Making you come tell me.”
“I volunteered,” Karen said, looking at Train. See, she wanted to say, is this the reaction of a murderer?
Sherman was staring down at the ground when he thought of something. “So why were the homicide cops there?”
“Apparently for the same reason they showed up at Elizabeth’s: unexplained death. Standard procedure. But they weren’t doing a crime scene or anything like that.”
The admiral shook his head wearily. “Goddamn it! I’d better get over there. I’m going to clear my afternoon calendar.” Then he stopped and shook his head. “No. I can’t.
I’ve got that White House POW/MIA delegation meeting.
Well, I’ll just have to be late.” He looked at them. “Sorry, I’m all over the place. Thanks for bringing me the word.”
He turned around to go back into the club, and they followed. “Mcnair hadn’t heard anything about the syringe business last night,” she said to his back. “I told him about it, and he said he’d chase down the report.”
He nodded over his shoulder. “Okay. I’ve got a couple of hours before my meeting. I’m going to go out to Galen’s house. There’s no surviving family, and I probably ought to take charge, at least for the moment. I know he’s got a cemetery plot down at the Naval Academy. I guess I’d better call his lawyer, Terry Harris, too.”
He gave them a dismissive wave and went back inside the club. Train indicated they should wait outside for a moment to give him time to get ahead of them. They stepped back outside, making way for the procession of runners entering and leaving the building. There were several thousand military personnel working in the Pentagon, all of whom were required to work out. This made the POAC a crowded place.
“Pretty good shape for a flag officer,” Train said. “He looks more like a Marine brigadier than a Navy guy.”
“He looks like he just got hit by a Mack truck,” she replied. Train said nothing.
“You still think he’s hiding something?” she asked, giving Train a challenging look. “I mean, I don’t think that was acting. Besides, first his exgirlfriend, and now his closest personal friend? Both dead in a week’s time? What’re the chances of that being coincidence?”
“Slim to none,” Train agreed. “But we’d better wait for the cops to finish with their investigation out there. What was that about a POW/MIA meeting at the White House?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Galantz is supposedly an MIA. Maybe Sherman can get the POW/MIA Task Force records, if he’s in that loop.”
She nodded. “I’ll ask. But not right now, I think.”
“You’re probably right. That cop comment on all this coincidence?”
She turned to walk back into the POAC building. ““That cop’ does not reveal what he’s thinking all that well,” she said. “But I got the impression that he was at least intrigued by the association.”
Train snorted. ““Intrigued by the association’? You’ve been in the JAG Corps too long, Counselor.”
She ignored that remark. They walked up the front stairs and out onto the pedestrian overpass. “I’m going to harass the Bureau of Personnel some more,” she said. “We need to get those Galantz files.”
“How much of this have you passed on to Admiral Carpenter?” he asked.
Karen hesitated. She was not yet sure enough of Train von Rensel’s relationship with the JAG to reveal why she had held back the Vietnam story from the front office. Once more, she wondered if all this evasion was prudent.
“None of it, actually. I’ve asked Captain Mccarty, his EA, to confirm that I can count on your help marshaling NIS assets-to find an exenlisted guy who might have something to do with Sherman.”
“But you held back on the Vietnam river story? And the syringe?”
“Yes.” She looked straight ahead as they entered the cavelike North Parking entrance and went through security.
He stopped just inside the main doors, forcing her to look at him. “I assume you have your reasons, okay? But, that said, I recommend you get to Carpenter and tell him everything. And I’ll want a copy of that Galantz file. I’ll run some traps within NIS. And one more thing.”
“What?”
“You need to start being careful. Very careful.”
“Why? What do you mean?”
“Two people are dead, Karen. One sounds a lot like homicide; the other’s an open question-for now anyway. But both of these people were close to Sherman.”
And?” But then she knew.
And, you’re getting close to Sherman. Now’s maybe not such a good time to be close to Sherman,
