Train nodded. “What’s that got to do with this place?”
“In a few minutes, a Sister Bernadette will come down here to meet us.
She’s the head of patient affairs. She’s going to show us a videotape, and then we can talk some more about the good admiral. But first, run through this business with his son. I take it you two tracked him down?”
Train gave Karen a sideways look that said, Let me take this one. Thenhe debriefed Mcnair on ac’s w erea) outs, his putative connection to Galantz, and what he had revealed about his own role in Galantz’s operation. Mcnair listened carefully, taking some notes before turning to Karen.
“And you actually interviewed him the second time, Commander? What was your estimate of this individual’s general physical and mental state?”
She thought for a moment. “Physically, he was badly hungover from using alcohol or dope of some kind. Probably both. He’s malnourished, very thin, but still strong enough to operate a big motorcycle.”
“And mentally?”
“Filled with hate. Rage. Pretty messed-up kid. Actually, he’s twenty-what? Twenty-seven, twenty-eight? Not exactly a kid, but that’s the word that comes to mind: a belligerent teenage kid, resenting everybody and everything, living like the poorest white trash that ever was.”
“And he admitted to helping Galantz with your abduction in Great Falls?
How about the two homicides?”
“According to him, his contribution to the Walsh and Schmidt affairs was to appear at the respective funerals so his father would see him. And he doesn’t recognize the name Galantz, by the way.”
“Right, Mr. Smith. But for him, this all has to do with getting back at his old man for what happened to his mother, correct?”
“And to him. The night the syringe showed up, the admiral told me something of his history. He admits he’s more than a little responsible for what happened to his family.,, “I see. Of course this is all hearsay. Might work for a grand jury, but not so good at trial, as you know. You suppose he would tell us the same story if we pick him up?
There was no coercion or anything like that, was there?” Karen looked at Train, who arched his eyebrows at her.
Reluctantly, she told Mcnair about losing her temper with the .45.
“Uh-huh,” Mcnair said. There was the ghost of a smile around his lips when she was finished. Karen put the best face on it she could. “I don’t know what to say. I realized that here was one of the guys who cocooned me in a damned body bag for several hours and then nearly drowned me in the river. Especially when he revealed all this with a maximum sneer.”
“And you just happened to have a forty-five in your purse?”
“I did that morning, yes.”
Mcnair glanced at her regulation purse. “Got it in there now, do we?”
Karen couldn’t tell if he was being facetious. Given her inexperience in the use of the big ” hundredth time how lucky she had kill Jack. She decided to play it safe.
“No, I I she said. “Look, I shouldn’t have done that. So, yes, I left the gun for this trip.”
Mcnair nodded again, lookin over at the desk for signs of Sister Bernadette’s arrival. Train washelpfully studying the floor.
“Okay,” Mcnair said, turning back around. “Technically, what happened up there is a Prince William County problem. It doesn’t sound like the kid is the type who’ll be crying to the cops. The important thing is what he’s revealed. Assuming Mr. Smith is Galantz, this is pretty strong corroboration.”
“And maybe a good way to locate Galantz,” Train offered.
“If he’ll tell you the same story, wouldn’t that take care of Sherman’s political problem?” Karen said.
“It might,” Mcnair said. “But it doesn’t take care of his Galantz problem, not until we can take Galantz himself off the boards.” , I”So,”
Train said, “what are we doing in this place?”
Mcnair nodded and closed his notebook. “We checked with the Navy when we couldn’t contact Sherman. Carpenter’s office said he was on a selection board of some kind and that they’d get him to call us. Then they called back, said he was not present for duty. I asked if he was A.W.O.L., They said flag officers don’t go A.W.O.L.. Anyhow, the) huffed and they puffed and finally admitted they didn’t know where he was. I had a patrol unit go by his house -No car. I put out a locating bulletin for Sherman’s car. the tristate area. Maryland state trooper located the car at motel here in Hamey yesterday afternoon. I talked to tire motel manager. Turns out Sherman is a regular.” -“A regular?” Karen said. She was confused, until sb remembered the prior weekend, when Sherman had gone out of town.
Yup, ” Mcnair said. “See, this motel has a cut-rate. deal for people who are visiting long-term patients at the hospice here. The sisters here set it up years ago.’,’ At that moment, a large matronly-looking nun came out of the elevators, spotted Mcnair, and came over to where they were sitting. She looked to Karen like an approaching battleship in her black-and-gray uniform, with a large silver crucifix bouncing over a generous bosom. Mcnair roade the introductions.
“Very pleased to meet you both,” Sister Bernadette said.
“Detective Mcnair, I have the videotape you requested, and a busy night ahead.”
“Right, Sister, and we really appreciate this. As I explained to you, just seeing this tape will be a great help in our investigation. Then we’ll get right out of your hair.”
“That’s fine, Detective. Everyone does understand that this particular tape is not available for release or for any court proceedings, yes?”
“Absolutely, Sister,” Mcnair said.
“Very well. Let’s go to the security office.”
She led them to the elevators, where they ascended in silence to the third floor. Karen searched Train’s face for some explanation of what they were doing, but he could only shrug.
“All the administrative functions are handled up here,” Sister Bernadette explained as they came out on the third floor. “That way, the patients and the residents are on the lower two floors. Better for fire-evacuation purposes, you know.
As they walked down a carpeted hallway with what looked like offices on either side, Karen asked what the hospice’s mission was.
“We’re a Catholic charity hospice, Commander. We provide a medically staffed residential-care facility for a special kind of patient-those we term ‘the mentally absent.’ Clinically, these are people who are not ill-with cancer, for example-but who are no longer with us mentally and who require full-time care. These are also people who can’t afford or can’t get access to a commercial nursing home or hospital. Families pay what they can, of course.”
They arrived at the end office, and Sister Bernadette punched in a code on a keypad. “We have one hundred and eighty beds here, a full nursing staff, doctors here during the day and on call at night. The facility is full and there’s a waiting list.”
She led them into the security office, which combined a clerical area with a security surveillance center. The office part appeared to be closed, but there was an older man in civilian clothes sitting at a console in front of several dozen black-and-white monitors embedded in one wall.
“That’s our monitoring system,” Sister Bernadette explained. “This is Mr. Franklin, who has the four-to midnight shift.” The man nodded politely at them and then returned to watching the screens while Sister Bernadette explained the system.
“We can maintain surveillance of the facility and all of the rooms. A computer generates a random sampling that gives a one-minute look into each viewing area. Or the watchman can select sites for continuous surveillance. The system is integrated with the call system, of course, and the nurses’ station on each floor has a single monitor that can be used to respond to any calls, either from a patient’s room or from the security office right here, with two-way communications.”
“That’s a pretty sophisticated system,” Train said.
“A gift from a corporate donor.” Sister Bernadette replied. “Much of our facility equipment has been donated.”
“I can imagine. But suppose someone wants privacy, say for a visit?”
Train asked.
