that event.
She was determined not to be a hanger-on, just for the sake of keeping busy or for the chance to put another gold ring on her sleeve. In the Judge Advocate General Corps, reaching commander signified a successful career; making captain meant an unusually gogd career. She was ready to settle for success.
Notebook in hand, Karen headed for Admiral Carpenter’s office up on the fifth floor. When she arrived, she found that she was not the only visitor to the front office. There was a civilian who looked like a cop sitting on the couch. Another civilian, a very large man, was standing by one of the windows, his back to the room. A youngish- looking one-star rear admiral was sitting in the single armchair. He gave her a fleeting glance of appraisal when she came in but then went back to a folder he had been studying.
The presence of the two civilians puzzled her, unless they were Naval Investigative Service types. But they looked like real civilians, and they were too well dressed to be NIS. The big man was huge, tree-trunk huge. She wondered if he was Warren Beasely’s relief from the Naval Investigative Service. She had heard some scuttlebutt that they were sending over a real character. The other guy looked like a cop. She walked across the front office and knocked on the EA’s open door.
“Come in, Karen,” Mccarty said, indicating with his hand that she should close the door behind her.
“Good morning, sir.,” she replied.
“Right, it probably is. You see that one-star out there?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That’s Rear Adm. W. T. Sherman. OP-32: director of the Surface Warfare Requirements Division down in OP-03.
Last year’s flag-selection list. The civilian on the couch is a Fairfax County detective. Homicide cop, ‘no less.” He watched for her reaction.
Homicide cop?” she said, pleased with herself for picking him out as a policeman. “Somebody shoot somebody?”
“Not quite,” Mccarty said. “At least we don’t think so.
But that guy came in to see the JAG yesterday. He asked for a sitdown with this Admiral Sherman. The JAG wants you in there as the duty fly on the wall. I won’t say any more, so as not to influence what you see and hear. You’ll be introduced as a headquarters staff attorney, okay?”
This was vintage . Carpenter, she thought, nodding. Whenever something out of the ordinary popped up, the JAG would bring in a neutral observer from the staff. When the meeting was over, the staffer, who was never told what -the meeting was supposed to be about, would be asked for his or her take on things. “Got it, Captain,” she replied with a smile. 7 “And who’s the Mack truck out there?”
“That’s the Mr. von Rensel from the NIS. Wolfgang Guderian von Rensel, to be precise. Warren Beasley’s relief, at long last. I can’t wait to hear the admiral’s reaction to him. ““Wolfgang von Rensel’? Now, there’s a good Irish name.”
“Yeah, right. Somebody told me his nickname is Train.
He’s been in the building before.. Naval Intelligence, I think. re Anyway, you may get to find out if this meeting develops into something.
The admiral apparently told him to hang around for this meeting.” Ah,” she said. Vintage Carpenter again.
“Exactly,” Mccarty said.
A lighted button on his multiline phone-had just gone off.
He stood up. “Okay, let’s rock and roll,” he said, picking up the phone and hitting the intercom button for Admiral Carpenter’s desk. “We’re ready, Admiral,” he said. He listened for a few seconds. “Yes, sir, she’s here. And Admiral Sherman. Right.”
He hung up the phone and they went back out into the front office reception area. Admiral Carpenter’s aide came out of the inner office and asked them all to come in. Admiral Sherman went first, followed by the policeman and the EA. Karen saw that von Rensel had turned around from the window. His great size notwithstanding, he was an unusual-looking man. He had a high forehead with receding, very close-cut black hair. His alert brown . eyes were faintly Oriental in shape, and a large Roman nose presided forcefully over thin lips and a prominent chin. He looked directly into her eyes and smiled, until she realized with something of a start that he was waiting for her to precede him into the room. She recovered and nodded a silent hello before walking ahead of him into the admiral’s office. Out of the comer of her eye, she thought she detected an amused expression on his face.
Admiral Carpenter was standing at the head of the conference table.
“Morning, everybody,” he said, and made the introductions.
Carpenter began by recapping the problem. “Admiral Sherman, this matter concerns an accidental death, as we’ve previously discussed. Detective Mcnair would like you to help him with his inquiries.”
“How can I help you, Detective?” Sherman said. He was not smiling, and he focused intensely on the detective.
Mcnair cleared his throat before beginning. “Admiral Sherman, this concerns a Ms. Elizabeth Walsh. I assume the admiral here has told you what happened?”
Karen saw Sherman’s face tighten. “Yes. He said that she had an accident of some kind in her house and died from her injuries. Is that correct?”
“Yes, sir. That’s what it looks like to us right now. We understand that you, ah, knew Ms. Walsh?”
“Yes.” He looked down at the table for a moment before continuing. “Ms.
She and I were … dating. Until about six months . ago.
“And may we ask, sir, why you stopped dating?”
Sherman hesitated, and Carpenter stepped into the conversation.
“Detective, I think we need to know where everybody stands before Admiral Sherman answers that. Could you please explain where you are in your investigation and what Admiral Sherman’s status is?”
Mcnair opened his notebook. “Last Saturday morning, the police were called in when Ms. Walsh’s neighbor, a Mrs. Klein, reported that she had found Ms. Walsh lying at the bottom of the stairs going down into her town house basement level. It appeared to Mrs. Klein that Ms. Walsh had fallen down the stairs, and that she was deceased. Mrs. Klein was very upset.”
Karen watched Sherman as he listened to the detective recite the grim facts. She realized from his expression that the relationship between Elizabeth Walsh and Sherman had gone well beyond dating. Von Rensel was also studying Sherman’s face.
“The Homicide Section was called in as a matter of routine,” Mcnair continued. “As you probably know, we are required by law to investigate any unexplained death. We arrived at the scene within an hour of Mrs.
Klein had a key, and she had let the EMTS in. was no sign of violence in the house, no sign of forced entry, or that anyone else had been in there other than Ms. Walsh and Mrs. Klein, who stated that she had not seen anything missing or out of order. The medical examiner’s preliminary judgment as to the cause of death was a fractured cervical vertebrae broken neck. Time of death was probably early Friday evening.”
“And she just felt down the stairs?” Sherman asked.
Mcnair gave him an appraising stare, which made her wonder if this was more than just a friendly little chat after all.
She realized at that moment that the detective had not answered Carpenter’s other question about Sherman’s status.
“Well, sir,” Mcnair replied, “there was one of those plastic laundry baskets at the bottom of the stairs. It looks like she was carrying it downstairs and maybe tripped. Hard to tell,.really.”
“Laundry?” Sherman said, frowning.
“It was clean laundry,” Mcnair said. “You are familiar with the layout of the town house.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yes, I am,” Sherman replied, staring back almost belligerently.
“Could you tell us where you were on Friday evening, Admiral Sherman?”
“Detective,” Carpenter interrupted. “An answer to my original question, if you please. Is Admiral Sherman a suspect in a homicide investigation?”
“No, sir,” Mcnair answered immediately. “This isn’t really a homicide ‘ investigation. If it becomes one, we’ll of course have to start over. We can do the Miranda bit if you’d like, Admiral.” Sherman started to shake his head,
