Sex. Ninety percent of the human sex drive comes from the mind, and when the mind is wrong, the sex is wrong. But if you have consent, you don’t have rape, and if it was or could have been an accident, you don’t have murder. You have someone in need of serious counseling.
Cynthia asked me, “So? Do we make an arrest?”
I shook my head.
She said, “I think that’s the right decision at this point.”
I picked up the telephone and dialed Colonel Fowler’s number. A sleepy woman answered. I identified myself, and Fowler got on the line. “Yes, Mr. Brenner?” He sounded a little annoyed.
I said, “Colonel, I’ve decided I don’t want Colonel Moore’s office padlocked or the contents confiscated at this time. I wanted you to know.”
“Now I know.”
“You asked me to let you know about arrests, and I’ve had second thoughts about placing him under arrest.”
“I didn’t know you intended to arrest him, Mr. Brenner, but if you rethink it again, will you please wake me up later so I can keep score?”
“Of course.” This was fun. I liked a man with a dry sense of humor. I said to him, “I called to ask you not to mention this to anyone. It could jeopardize the case.”
“I understand. But I will report this to the general.”
“I suppose you have no choice.”
“None whatsoever.” He cleared his throat. “Do you have any other suspects?”
“Not at the moment. But I have some good leads.”
“That’s encouraging. Anything further?”
“I’m starting to turn up evidence that Captain Campbell… how shall I put this…? That Captain Campbell had an active social life.”
Dead silence.
So I continued, “It was inevitable that this would come out. I don’t know if this relates to her murder, but I’ll do my best to keep this in perspective and to minimize the damage to the fort and the Army if this information should become public, and so on.”
“Why don’t we meet at, say, 0700 hours at my house for coffee?”
“Well, I don’t want to disturb you at home at that hour.”
“Mr. Brenner, you are borderline insubordinate and definitely pissing me off. Be here at 0700 hours sharp.”
“Yes, sir.” The phone went dead. I said to Cynthia, “I’ll have to speak to the Signal Corps people about the phone service at Fort Hadley.”
“What did he say?”
“Colonel Fowler asks that we join him for coffee, 0700, his house.”
She looked at her watch. “Well, we can get a little sleep. Ready?”
I looked around. Most of the hangar was in darkness now, and most of the cots were filled with sleeping men and women, though a few diehards were still at it, bent over typewriters, test tubes, and microscopes. “Okay, half a day today.”
As we walked through the hangar, I asked Cynthia, “Did they find her West Point ring in that bag of clothes?”
“No, they didn’t.”
“And it hasn’t turned up in her household possessions yet?”
“No, I asked Cal about it.”
“Odd.”
“She may have lost it,” Cynthia said. “Maybe it’s being cleaned.”
“Maybe.”
Cynthia said to me, “Paul, if we had found her on that rifle range alive, and she was right here with us now, what would you say to her?”
“What would
“I’m asking
“Okay. I’d say to her that whatever happened in the past should be dealt with in a healthy way, not a destructive way. That she needed good counseling, not bad counseling, that she should try to find a spiritual answer to her pain, that she should try to forgive the person or persons who… mistreated her and took advantage of her. I’d tell her she was an important and worthwhile human being with a lot to live for, and that people would care about her in a good way if she started caring about herself. That’s what I’d say to her.”
Cynthia nodded. “Yes, that’s what someone should have said to her. Maybe someone did. But something bad happened to her, and what we see and hear is her response to that. This type of behavior in a bright, educated, attractive, and professionally successful woman is often the result of… some past trauma.”
“Such as?”
We left the hangar and walked out into the cool evening. The moon had set and you could see a billion stars in the clear Georgia sky. I looked out across the huge dark expanse of Jordan Field, recalling when it was lit every night, and remembering a particular flight that used to come in after midnight two or three times a week. I said to Cynthia, “I unloaded bodies from Vietnam here.”
She didn’t respond.
I said, “If they don’t bury her here in Midland, this is where everyone will gather after church to see her off. Tomorrow or the next day, I guess.”
“Will we be here?”
“I plan to be.”
We went to her car and she said to me, “In answer to your question… I think her father is the key to her behavior. You know, a domineering figure, pushed her into the military, tried to control her life, a weak mother, extended absences, lots of moving around the world, total dependence on and deference to his career. She rebels in the only way she knows how. It’s all pretty much textbook stuff.”
We got in the car and I said, “Right. But there are a million well-adjusted daughters out there with the same backgrounds.”
“I know. But it’s how you handle it.”
“I’m thinking about a more… abnormal relationship with her father that would explain her hate.”
We headed toward the gates of the airfield. She said, “I know what you’re saying, and I thought that, too. But if you think rape and murder are hard to prove, try proving incest. I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, Paul. That one could hurt you.”
“Right. My first case as a CID officer was a barracks theft. Look how far I’ve come. Next step, the abyss.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY
Cynthia parked at the VOQ, and we took the outside staircase up to the second floor and found our rooms. “Well,” she said, “good night.”
“Well,” I replied, “I’m bursting with energy, second wind, too wound up to sleep, adrenaline pumping, and all that. How about a little TV and a drink?”
“I don’t think so.”
“We’d be better off not sleeping at this point. You’ll feel worse when you have to get up. We’ll just relax, shower, change, and off to Colonel Fowler’s.”
“Well, maybe… but…”
“Come on in.” I opened my door, and she followed me inside. She picked up the phone and called the charge-of-quarters person and left a wake-up call for 0530 hours. She said to me, “Just in case we pass out.”
“Good idea,” I said. “Well, as it turns out, I can’t offer you a drink, and I don’t see a TV here. How about
