somebody
A few minutes later, Carol dropped me off under the overhang at the hotel entrance. She gave me that chilling smile and said, “Warn the others not to take any unnecessary risks. And stay together as much as you can.”
I very bitterly said, “Do I take it this represents an official warning?”
“That’s right,” she said. “This is your official warning.”
“You know what bothers me?”
“What bothers you?”
“I just can’t figure what a lawyer like you’s doing in the CIA.”
She looked me straight in the eye. “After three years of law school, I decided I didn’t want to practice law. I discovered I didn’t like lawyers.”
“Aha,” I said.
“Aha,” she frostily replied, then drove away.
I went back to my room, tugged another box out of the closet, then sat down to read what Captain Thomas Whitehall said to Chief Warrant Officer Michael Bales on the morning of May 3.
It began with the obligatory reading of rights, then the equally obligatory questions about name, assignment, etcetera. Whitehall waived his rights. He insisted that since he was innocent, he had nothing to hide. Dumb move there, I figured. An innocent man doesn’t protest he’s innocent until somebody accuses him. An innocent man naturally assumes everybody knows he’s guiltless.
Like a skilled interrogator, Bales then spent a few minutes loosening up Whitehall with the standard warm-up questions: where did he live, what was his job, how long had he been in Korea, blah, blah, blah. The real purpose was to get the suspect comfortable giving answers.
Then Bales asked, “Did you know the victim?”
“Yes.”
“How did you know him?”
“We met through a mutual friend. He was a Katusa, and we went shopping together a few times.”
“Were you friends?” Bales asked, and I guessed it was a perfectly innocuous question. At that stage Bales had no way of knowing the circumstances of the death, or about Whitehall’s sexual peccadillos.
“Not friends, no. Acquaintances, really. I didn’t know him well. It was nice having someone who knew Seoul, who could speak the language. He showed me some good places to shop and eat, and helped me bargain on prices with shopkeepers, that kind of thing.”
“What was he doing at your apartment?”
“I invited him.”
“For what purpose?”
“I was having a small party. I thought he might enjoy meeting other Americans.”
“What about Moran and Jackson? Were they your friends?”
“Moran’s a friend. He brought Jackson along.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t really ask. I guess he thought Lee and Jackson might hit it off.”
“You’ll excuse me, Captain, but that sounds a little odd. You’re an officer and they’re all enlisted.”
“Not odd at all,” Whitehall insisted. “It’s hardly unusual for officers and senior NCOs to have relationships outside of work. And Lee’s a Korean and had done me some favors. I saw nothing wrong with helping him make more American friends.”
“I guess,” Bales said, and I imagined that his tone was somewhat dubious. “There were a lot of empty bottles in your apartment. Was there drinking?”
“I served refreshments.”
“Alcohol?”
“Yes, sure. Why not? They’re all grown-ups.”
“Drugs?”
“I don’t like the nature of that question.”
“Captain, a man was murdered in your apartment. You’re going to get lots of difficult questions. Now please answer. Were there drugs?”
“No, no drugs,” Whitehall finally replied.
“Why did the others spend the night in your apartment?”
“The party went late. Everybody was having fun. Before we knew it, it was nearly two in the morning.”
“Were the others drunk?”
“In my opinion, they’d had a few too many, yes. I didn’t think it was a good idea to let them walk the two miles back to base in their condition, so I invited them to stay.”
“Uh-huh,” Bales said. “When was the last time you saw Lee No Tae alive?”
“I don’t remember exactly. Around two, I guess. He went into the bedroom and I made sure the apartment door was locked and went to sleep.”
“The apartment door was locked?”
“That’s right.”
“There were only three bedrooms, weren’t there?”
“Yes. I gave them the bedrooms and slept on the couch in the living room.”
“Did you hear any sounds that night?”
“What kind of sounds?”
“Maybe someone entering your apartment? Maybe a struggle? Maybe an argument?”
“No. I’m usually a very light sleeper, but frankly, I’m afraid I had a few too many drinks also. I didn’t hear anything.”
“Are you the only one with keys to your apartment?”
“I suppose the management company that runs the place has other keys. Other than that, yes.”
“So you have no idea what happened to Private Lee?”
“None. I was shocked when we discovered him dead. I have no idea how it happened.”
Bales then said, “That’s all I have at this stage of the investigation. Is there anything you want to add to this statement?”
“No, nothing. But, uh, well, uh… have his parents been notified yet?”
“His father was notified about two hours ago.”
“Perhaps I can stop by and offer my condolences. He was a very fine young man. I’d like to tell his parents that. Would you happen to have their address? Do they live here in Seoul?”
“Are you serious?” Bales asked.
“I think it’s the only proper thing to do. He was murdered in my apartment.”
“You mean, you don’t know who his father is?”
“No. Why should I?”
“Private Lee’s father is South Korea’s defense minister.”
“Oh shit.”
With that expletive, the initial interrogation ended. And things being what they were, it was a pretty fitting summary of what Whitehall had stepped into.
I tried to picture what was going through Whitehall’s mind when he was being interrogated. I mean, that final discussion was a doozy. He had to know about Lee’s father. That meant he was lying, and misleading, and blustering. He must’ve been scared as hell. Still, give me a break.
Had he really thought he’d get away with it? How could he? The body was found in his apartment, in his own bedroom, right beside him, for Chrissakes. There were two other witnesses in the apartment. Had they used the time before the Korean cops arrived to coordinate alibis? Wasn’t Whitehall smart enough to know his semen would be found inside Lee’s corpse?
And was he really so clueless that he thought they’d buy the assertion that he didn’t know about Lee’s father? He was obviously trying to get as much distance from the murdered man as he possibly could. A mere acquaintance, a shopping companion; someone he only barely knew and had invited over to his apartment so he
