Trophies And Dead Things

'Hank?'

He shook his head. 'Frankly, I've repressed a lot of things about those days.'

'Try to think back to Rouge et Noir. Picture it, and yourselves there in your corner. Who else is with you?'

Both of them closed their eyes. After a moment Willie said, 'That radio operator, got killed in the patrol plane crash.'

'Sorry. I should have told you I'm only interested in people who so far as you know are still living.'

More silence. Then Hank said to Willie, 'The guy from Atlanta-the one who'd met Martin Luther King.'

'Bernie-nan, he bought it at Da Nang.'

'Mike, the one who always had the terrific grass?'

'Dead, too.'

'What about Chris, from Philadelphia?'

'Helicopter crash.'

If I let them go on, it would begin to sound like a reading of the names from the Vietnam War Memorial. I said, 'What about John Owens?'

'Owens,' Hank said.

Willie frowned, then snapped his fingers. 'Johnny Owens. I should of remembered him. Was a crazy man, actually wanted to kill the fascist lieutenant. Probably would of, too, if he hadn't transferred out and got sent up to Saigon. Wonder whatever happened to the crazy son of a bitch?'

'He was the sniper's third victim.'

Willie's mouth dropped open. Hank's face went taut and still-the way I've seen it when something unexpected happens to him in court.

I asked, 'Were there any women in your group?'

Hank said, 'A few. Mostly nurses.'

'What about a Red Cross nurse named Mary Johnson?'

'… It's such a common name.'

'I remember her,' Willie said. 'She wasn't there long. A blonde with a fiance in the marines. I lusted after her, but she wasn't having any.'

Hank looked at me. 'Mary, too?'

'The second victim.'

'Why didn't I realize it when I saw the story in the paper? And the one about Johnny?'

'Mary Johnson had married and was going by the surname Davis. And even if her name had been the same, or Owens's more distinctive, there would have been no reason for you to connect them with people you'd known casually in a bar in Vietnam. That was a long time ago.'

They were silent for a moment. Willie finally asked, 'What about the sniper's first victim?'

'He's the one who originally didn't fit the pattern. Bob Smith. A drifter, worked in restaurants mainly. But I have an idea about him. Military food services are usually provided by civilian contractors. What was the name of the one at your base?'

Hank shook his head. Willie said, 'Damned if I can remember. Ought to, for all the bitching about the food that I did. What was it we nicknamed them?'

Hank smiled faintly. 'American Constipated.'

'American Consolidated Services,' I said.

'Right!'

'Then there's your link. You may not remember Bob Smith, but he worked for American Consolidated during that period, and I'm willing to bet he hung out with you at the Rouge et Noir, too.'

'Okay,' Hank said, 'I see where this is leading. Someone who didn't like our political orientation and disregard for protocol is now-after close to twenty years-tracking down people from the group and killing them. But why, after all that time? And how does he find us?'

'In Willie's case, it's obvious-the TV commercials. And you don't keep all that low a profile. The others he could have stumbled over by chance, or by less circumstantial means.'

Willie shook his head. 'McCone, this is fuckin' crazy. The guy must be crazy.'

'When did you hear of a sane person stalking others with a gun?'

They were silent again. I was busy formulating an idea that I wanted to run past Greg. After a while I said, 'The important thing right now is for both of you to stay safe. You're going to have to be extra cautious, even during daylight. He's missed once, and that might have made him impatient.'

'Don't you worry about me none,' Willie replied. 'I'm going home and locking myself in until this is all over.'

'And you,' I said to Hank, 'are going back to All Souls?'

'I have to. As I said, an emergency came up.'

'Why don't you stay there tonight?'

'Where? On the couch? I tried that last winter when Anne-Marie and I were broken up, and hardly slept for nights. The case I'm trying is winding up tomorrow; I have to get a decent rest.'

'Okay-go to All Souls, then. But don't leave until I get there.'

'And then what do you intend to do?'

'Act as your bodyguard on your way home.'

'Shar, that'll make me feel like an old man being helped across the street by a Girl Scout.'

'Like it or not, that's the way it's going to be.'

Hank merely nodded, once again cowed by my obvious irritation.

I stood up and stuffed the legal pad into my briefcase. 'There's one other thing I want both of you to do: keep thinking about the hawkish element in that bar. Try to recall confrontations, threats. Try to remember names. I'll check with you later about it.'

As I started for the door Hank asked, 'Where're you going now?'

'To talk with Greg Marcus. I have an idea that may help him identify the sniper.'

Eighteen

Greg said, 'Damn, you may have something there.'

I reached for the cup of coffee I'd set on the edge of his desk and waited for him to go on.

After a moment he added, 'The motive might sound farfetched, but I've encountered stranger ones. Let's hear your theory on who's responsible.'

I replaced the cup and began enumerating items on my fingers. 'First, I assume we're in agreement that we're dealing with a seriously disturbed individual.'

He nodded.

'Second, given the length of time that's elapsed, there has to have been some event that triggered the shooting spree.'

'I'm not sure that's a given. Sometimes people brood for years-decades, even-and then just tip over the edge.'

'But usually with a nudge from some event or situation- however minor.'

'I'll agree with that if you stress the minor.'

'All right.' I got up and began to pace about the cubicle, allowing the regular motion to lend order to my thoughts. 'Let's assume the person is a man. He's disturbed. He's probably a Vietnam vet.'

'Not necessarily; two of his victims weren't, but they were still in Cam Ranh at the same time he was.'

'For the sake of this particular argument, let's assume he is. Suppose he's been receiving psychiatric treatment as an outpatient. Where in this area would he go?'

'Letterman.'

'Where Mary Johnson Davis worked in psychiatric counseling before she went to Children's Hospital. And where John Owens probably received medical care for his disability.'