folder, drew several lines on the paper, and then tossed it into his out basket before looking up.
“Mr. von Rensel, given a two-hundred-fifty-thousand dollar prize, and acknowledging that you’re coming out of the gate cold, what’s your take on this?” he asked.
“I believe the cops think it is a homicide,” von Rensel replied. Karen was surprised at the clarity and precision of his diction, which hinted at a level of education beyond that of most of the NIS people she had met. “Before this meeting, Mcnair wasn’t sure about how to approach Sherman.
Now he’ll check his alibi. If it holds up, then they’ll have to regroup.
That insurance money is a natural pointer.”
Carpenter nodded thoughtfully. “And Karen, what’s your take on Admiral Sherman?”
Karen was expecting to be asked to comment on what von Rensel had just said. Carpenter’s question had surprised her: Admirals did not normally ask commanders for their opinions about other admirals.
“Based on first impressions,” she replied, “I don’t think Admiral Sherman killed his girlfriend. Assuming she was killed at all, that is.”
She glanced over at von Rensel. “I think he was sincere about trading in the money if he could get her back.”
Carpenter stared at her for a moment. “Two hundred and fifty thousand tax-free dollars. But, yeah, I think you’re right. Okay. Karen, I want you to run a very quiet probe for me. I want to know what else the cops found in the house that’s making them itchy, and I want to know something about William Taggart Sherman. See, contrary to what I told the young admiral, I did tell the’CNO about this. The CNO has one cardinal rule about possible scandals He doesn’t like surprise “s.
Really doesn’t like surprises. ‘
So, yes, I let the CNO know. He told me to forget about it.”
“Forget about it?” Karen was surprised. “Yes. Forget about it. As long as I could assure myself that there was absolutely nothing to it.”
“In other words,,, von Rensel said, “check it out.”
Carpenter grinned. “Exactly. Although, of course, he neven did say that, did he? Now, Karen, I take it you’re not exactly overwhelmed with work down there in the IR Division these days, right?”
Ah, here it comes; she thought. “As the admiral is aware, I’ve put my papers in,” she replied sweetly.
“Right. So I am. Okay. I’ll be asking Captain Mccarty to have a word with your boss, Captain Pennington. But I want both of you to go check this thing out for me-lowkey. see Sherman, tell him that you’re going to snoop around to see what the cops are doing. Then go see the cops and tell them you’re going to check out the dashing young admiral. Mr. von Rensel here can help you with any outside resources, such as the NIS or any other law- enforcement agencies if you need them.”
“In other words, we play both sides against the middle,” von Rensel said.
Carpenter gave him a speculative look. “You could say that.
“But we report only to you,” Karen said.
“Exactly.”
Karen had one more question. “So, I am not in any way representing Admiral Sherman?”
“Representing? Whatever gave you that idea, Commander? You work for only one admiral at a time in this business.” And then, with a little wave, he dismissed them.
Karen took von Rensel to see Captain Pennington. Pennington was in his cubicle, but they had to wait for a few minutes until he got off the phone. She had expected a flurry of questions from von Rensel on the walk back to the IR offices, but he had said nothing at all. She was amused at how the flow of people in the corridor parted around him like skiers avoiding a tree.
“Goddamned people up in OSD,” Pennington complained as he hung up the phone. “They want another meeting on the Tailhook report. Lord, I’m getting tired of that word. Okay, Karen, what did the great man want this time?”
Karen slipped into a chair and crossed her legs. Von Rensel remained standing, literally filling the doorway. “Something a little different,” she said. “A private matter involving a flag officer on the Opnav staff.
Admiral Carpenter wants me to do some off-line work.”
“Ah. Another one of his little secret missions. Mr. von Rensel, you’re probably used to this. By the way, mind if I use a first name?”
“It’s Wolfgang von Rensel,” the big man said. “In high school, they called me Train. It was a football nickname.”
“Train,” Pennington said, savoring the image with a grin.
“Perfect. Train it is. Anyhow, this JAG plays a lot of things pretty close to his vest-. Likes to work the back channels, set things up before he makes any significant moves, especially when it concerns flag officers. Your predecessor here was unfortunately not very adept at that kind of work.”
“Having pancreatic cancer might have had something to do with that,” von Rensel observed.
“Yes, indeed, and we’re sorry that he passed away. But Warren Beasely was not the kind of guy this JAG had in mind for the liaison job. I’m told that you, on the other hand, are not unused to working off-line?”
Train smiled noncommittally. “I think Admiral Carpenter and I reached an understanding during my reporting-aboard call, Captain,” he replied. “I hope to make myself useful.
I was pleased to find that he seems to know exactly what he wants’from people.”
“Oh, yes, he certainly does that. You may not be aware that he’s short-listed for a judgeship on the Court of Military Appeals. So he’s being especially careful these days, which is probably why he’s having Karen look into whatever this is all about.”
“Oh, supposedly Captain Mccarty will be in touch with you about all this,” Karen said.
Pennington sat back. “Ah, the chain of command. Better late than never, I suppose. Okay. Mr. von Rensel, since you’re replacing Beasely, you might as well take over his cube. The yeoman will set you up.” Thank you, Captain,” von Rensel said. He nodded at Karen and backed out of the captain’s office, being careful not to knock any walls down. Karen remained behind.
“So,” Pennington continued. “In the meantime , you will be acting on private instructions. As before.”
“Yes, sir,” Karen said. She had done one other investigatory assignment for Admiral Carpenter, involving a seale had sent her after the Tailhook scandal. She had information on three individuals, but she had never learned how that information had been used or what, if anything, had happened to them, or why he wanted it in the first place.
That also was vintage Carpenter.
“And no shipping-over lectures?” Pennington asked gently.
She smiled. “Not this time. Although I suspect he has some high hopes that this kind of assignment might change my mind about leaving.”
“I can’t imagine the admiral being so devious,” Pennington said with a straight face, and then they both laughed.
“I’m not going away mad, Captain,” she reminded him. “I’m just going away. The Navy’s been terrific. Oh, okay, not always terrific, but certainly far more interesting than doing corporate law or political flack work here in D.C. It’s just that with Frank gone, the fun’s gone out of it. I’m forty four years old, no kids, no family to speak of.
Going on with the career just seemed … pointless.”
Pennington nodded sympathetically. “The only observation I can offer is that your Navy work could at least fill the void for a while.” He paused to let her consider that, but she said nothing. “Qkay. Get on with whatever he’s got you doing this time. And I’ll pretend to be appropriately surprised when Mccarty calls down.”
She gave him her best smile. “Thanks, Captain.”
She checked her voice mail when she got back to her cubicle, but there were no messages. Frank had often called her during the day, usually leaving a mildly obscene message or a two-line joke on her voice mail.
And yet, try as she might, she could not quite sustain a perfect halo of love and remembrance around her late husband because of that nagging detail that nobody wanted to talk about: why Frank had been at that hotel in the first place. The question that would not go away. And the roaring silence that followed whenever she asked the question, along with the inescapable conclusion that perhaps her whole marriage to that congenial, successful, and ostensibly loving man had been a sham.
