Decker's Dilemma (24 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

1320, Saturday, March 1

Decker stepped aboard the
Harvey
and had second thoughts. The confidence that he had the past two days had suddenly vanished. Instead of heading to the commander's stateroom, he decided to take a detour to Supply Support to collect his thoughts.

He walked through the ship ignoring everyone who asked him what he was doing on board on a Saturday with no duty, his mind on the task in front of him. At the door to Supply Support, he hesitated, slowly inserting the key and turning the knob. He took one step into the office and didn't know who was more startled: himself or Ensign Limpert.

The ensign jumped in his chair and quickly tried to cover the computer screen.

“Sorry to scare you, sir,” said Decker. “I didn't expect to run into anyone down here.”

“Petty Officer Decker,” Ensign Limpert said. “What are you doing, um, do you have duty? No you don't. I know that.”

“That's what everybody's asking me today,” Decker said. “No, sir, no duty today. I came on board to talk with Suppo about something.”

“Here's been here since, um, I think he came early this morning. He told me, well, I have to go.”

“No need to leave,” Decker said. “I can let you get back to whatever you were doing.”

Ensign Limpert smiled and nervously fumbled with the keyboard. “I, um, it was just … well, I was just playing a game.”

“A game?”

“Yes, well, a video game. I don't usually spend my time, you know, I just thought I'd play a while. It's golf.”

“I didn't know you play golf, sir. Never have taken up the game myself.”

“I don't really play, but, um, I just like to, well, it's just a computer game.”

Decker felt the ensign's uneasiness and decided it was time to accomplish the task at hand. “You know what, sir? I'll let you get back to the computer. I want to catch Suppo before he leaves.”

Decker walked out of Supply Support and laughed as he remembered Olivia Fortuno's nickname for Limpert, “Ensign
Malata
.” He walked forward and up one level to Officer Country. A few paces aft of the wardroom, he stood in front of Commander Doerr's stateroom and put his ear to the grey metal door. He could hear the supply officer busily typing on a keyboard, the sound echoing in the tiny room. He thought about walking away, but forced himself to knock. “Sir, do you have a minute? It's Petty Officer Decker.”

“Just a sec,” said the commander. “I'll be right there.”

Decker waited for two minutes as he heard the commander shuffling papers and tidying his room.

Commander Doerr opened the door a moment later. “Come on in, Petty Officer Decker. Do you have duty today?”

“No sir,” said Decker, looking around the stateroom. The commander was out of uniform, wearing jeans and a dark green polo shirt. Paperwork lay strewn across the floor. The computer, Decker noted, was turned off.

“Well, what brings you to the ship today? It's a weekend. You should be out doing something. Anything but walking around here.”

“I plan to, sir. I just wanted to talk with you about something.”

“You sound serious. Shut the door and come in and sit down.”

Commander Doerr got up and removed books from his bunk. The supply officer sat on the mattress and offered Decker his chair, the only seat in the tiny stateroom. Decker spent the next twenty minutes telling the supply officer about his conversation with Kippen, what he knew about the missing inventory, his suspicions about Chief Fray and possibly Pinto, the black market business in town, and what he had learned about Agana and how it tied together with the missing parts from the
Harvey
.

When Decker finished, the commander stood and paced around the small room.

“This is serious news, Decker,” the supply officer said. “Have you or Wilson told anyone else?”

“No, sir,” said Decker. “I'm not sure what we have so I wanted to tell you first. The investigator gave me his card and told me to call if I had anything further to tell him. I was thinking about doing that.”

“I would advise against that, Decker. Not yet anyway. Why have you and Wilson been doing this?”

“I became convinced Kippen's death wasn't an accident or suicide.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because of my conversation with him the night be went overboard Looking back on it, Kippen was worried about missing parts.”

Commander Doerr nodded. “Did you tell the investigator about this?”

“I mentioned it, but he apparently didn't think it was a problem.”

“Well, I'm glad you came to me,” said the commander. “In fact, I know about the missing inventory. The investigator mentioned it to me before he left the ship. It was the first I had heard about it.”

“Did you talk to Chief Fray about it?”

“I did and I've been waiting on a report from him. I guess now I won't be receiving that. I've spent the morning gathering Chief's personal effects. It's a difficult part of my job. I've had to do it twice now in a month and it doesn't get easier.”

“I'm sure it doesn't, sir.”

“Even if he was involved in something like a black market business, it's tough to talk to the wife and children. Between you and me, though, I believe you're right about Chief.”

“What about Pinto?” asked Decker.

“I don't think Pinto's involved. Seems unlikely to me. Chief Fray, though, is a different story.”

“Why's that, sir?”

“This is top secret, Decker. Got that?”

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

“Did you know he was planning to retire in another year?”

Decker shook his head. “No, sir. He never mentioned that to me, but he never really talked about his future plans. It was always about the navy and the ship.”

“He used to talk to me about it,” the commander said. “He was worried about money. He knew that he had his retirement pension, but he also knew it wouldn't be enough. Especially when he moved back to the States. His kid is still young and he was worried about college and things like that.”

“He could always find another career,” Decker reasoned.

“That's what I told him. He had enough experience and knew enough people. I told him he'd be able to find a government job, maybe even with the navy, and he'd be fine. I just hope now he had enough insurance.”

“I hope so, too, sir.” Decker said, standing to leave. “That's all I wanted to talk with you about. I'll let you get back to your work.”

“I'm glad you stopped by, Decker. I need to know these things.”

“No problem, sir.”

“By the way, do you have the business card from the investigator on you? I've misplaced the one he gave me.”

“No, sir. I'm not sure where it is. I think I might have it at my friend's place in town. Why?”

“I should be the one to report this. It'll look better coming from the department head. Chain-of-command type of thing.”

“I understand, sir. I can bring it in on Monday.”

“I tell you what. If you don't mind, can you meet me tomorrow? I know it's a Sunday, but we can get together on base somewhere. Not on the ship. I need at least one day away from this place.”

“Sure, I can meet, sir.”

“Okay then, how about we rendezvous at the Spanish Gate, say, around 1100? If you have the time, we'll drive to the navy golf course and have lunch at the club restaurant. I'd do it today but I have to finish inventorying Chief's personal effects. Then I have to go to the supply depot tonight. They just called me. We have some shipments coming in from Clark Air Base that I need to deal with. There are several high priority parts that should be arriving. If they don't show up, I need to be there to expedite them.”

“Tomorrow sounds fine, sir,” Decker said.

“Great. See you tomorrow at 1100. And don't forget to bring the card. I'll call the investigator tomorrow afternoon.”

“I'll bring it, sir,” Decker said, exiting the stateroom. He walked forward several frames, emerging from the superstructure on the port side near the torpedo tubes. He leaned over the railing and exhaled, relieved that he had finally told someone about his investigation, but still uneasy about something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

He studied the brown water lapping against the hull, racking his brain for several minutes. Nothing. A quick perusal of his Book of Dates. Zilch. Satisfied that whatever was bothering him was inconsequential, Decker turned and walked to the starboard side, crossing the quarterdeck and leaving the
Harvey
and its problems behind him.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-NINE

2015, Saturday, March 1

Mo scanned the room, spotted a waitress, and tried valiantly to catch her attention. No luck. He returned to reading his newspaper. “It's going to be a few minutes. Cal Jam's busy tonight.”

Decker didn't stop writing in his Book of Dates. “I can wait,” he said rather glumly.

“What's with you?” asked Hack.

“Just bothered by something.”

“He's been like this all night,” said Vega. “Tried to cheer him up, get him to talk, but he keeps writing in his book.”

“Something doesn't make sense,” Decker said.

“What doesn't?” asked Hack. “Did you talk to the supply officer?”

“I've been trying to get him to tell me for an hour,” Mo said, still waving frantically at a waitress across the bar. “They need more wait staff in this place. Now I know why I don't like coming here anymore.”

“I talked with Commander Doerr earlier today,” Decker finally admitted. “I filled him in on everything we've done.”

“Did you mention my name?” asked Hack.

“I may have.”

“Thanks.”

“You're welcome,” Decker said. “He was busy, though. He said he has to go to the supply depot tonight to check on parts, and he wants to meet me for lunch tomorrow.”

“On a Sunday? Lucky you,” Hack said. He reached into his back pocket and grabbed a wad of folded papers, placing them on the table for everyone to see. “You know what I have here?”

“Please enlighten us,” Decker said.

“These papers are copies of the requisition orders and notes from Chief's safe. I no longer need them or want to ever see them or think of them again.”

Vega mimicked Hack and removed a copy of the paper she'd picked up at Agana's warehouse in Manila. She waved it in front of her. “Same with me. I obtained this piece of evidence illegally so I haven't been able to show it to Inspector Navarro.”

Decker leaned forward and reached for his Book of Dates. Opening it to a blank page, he began to write.

“Here we go again,” Hack said.

“I don't want to miss anything,” said Decker. “I realized I forgot one important entry for today. I have to note that the four of us went to Cal Jam.”

“That's important?” Mo asked.

“Of course it's important.”

“If you say so,” said Mo. “As for me, all I want to remember is what I do from this point forward tonight.”

“I'm with you,” Hack said, announcing that he needed to hit the head.

Vega watched Hack make his way to the restroom. She turned her attention to Decker and his Book of Dates. “What's this?” she asked, grabbing for a slip of paper in the notebook.

Decker stopped her hand as soon as she touched it. “It's nothing, just a list of cities and times.”

“Where did you get it?”

“I picked it up from the commander. It's a long story.”

“Why'd you keep it?

“Curiosity.”

“Let me see,” she pleaded, twisting her arm to free herself from his grip. Finally, Decker relented and let go of her hand.

Vega grinned and studied the sheet of paper. A second later, her smile disappeared. Her eyes widened. “It's a gambling sheet. I recognize this from stuff my brother used to keep. Looks like winnings and losings on games.”

“Could be basketball,” Mo added, taking a peek at the note. “Those are all NBA cities.”

“Suppo's not a gambler,” Decker said firmly.

“And there's L2-50% on the back,” Vega said. “Must be fifty percent of something.” She quickly added the numbers on the front. “He won $1,800 on December 27.”

“He didn't win anything,” Decker countered. “I think it's a list of military times.”

Vega picked up her sheet of paper she had grabbed from Agana's filing cabinet in Manila. “Let's see, on December 27 someone by the initial ‘P' paid ‘L2' an amount of 18,450 pesos.”

“Suppo's not a ‘P',” said Decker. “He's a ‘D' for Doerr. And are you sure it's Agana who was paid? He's an ‘A' no matter which name you use.”

“Forget the names for now,” Vega said. “Step One is to do the math.” She fished a pen out of her purse as Pong ambled towards their table.

“Lady and gentlemen, I hope you are enjoying your evening,” Pong said. “We're very busy tonight. Let me take your order.”

“Pong, you are a lifesaver,” said Decker. “My friend here is becoming very impatient.”

“Another round of San Miguels,” Mo said, “And a hamburger and a large order of lumpia.”

“I will have them out immediately,” Pong said. “And I have a note for your friend, Mr. Hack. I saw him here earlier.”

Pong handed Decker the note and scurried to take orders at a neighboring table. Decker focused his attention on the copies of the requisition lists. He turned to his notebook and found the date. “Saturday, December 28 - Spent time with Piper Doerr at her house. Moved boxes, etc.”

Vega shot Decker a surprised look. “You didn't tell me about that?”

“That's part of the long story,” Decker mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

Something about that date gave him pause. He couldn't quite figure out why, but the date stuck in his mind.

“Enjoying the reading?” Hack asked as he returned to the table.

“Something's weird here,” Decker said. “Oh, and here's a note for you. Pong came by and handed it to me.”

Hack took the piece of paper from Decker and slowly opened it. “It's from Lee. She wants me to call her at work. She says it's important.”

“There's a phone behind the bar,” Decker said, never looking up from his reading.

“Be right back,” Hack said. “And just in time. Look who's here.”

Petty Officer Pinto stood in front of the table, smiling broadly. “Where's he going?” he said, pointing to Hack.

“Has to make a phone call,” Decker replied. “Don't tell me it's time for your monthly beer?”

“I think it might be,” Pinto said, folding his arms and flexing his muscles. “If you don't mind me joining you.”

Decker glanced at Mo and shrugged. “Sure, why not? Pull up a chair. Let me warn you, though, it's going to take a while to get a beer tonight.”

“In that case, I'm heading to the bar. Be right back.”

“Take your time,” Mo said out of earshot of Pinto.

Two minutes later, Hack returned to the table, visibly worried. “Lee didn't answer. I called three times. Maybe I should go see her.”

“She's a big girl,” Decker said. “I'm sure whatever it is can wait.”

“Maybe so, but I'd feel better if I went there. She never calls me like this. I want to make sure she's okay and then I'll meet up with you guys later. I'll be back before you finish your beer.”

“Why not stick with us tonight,” Decker argued. “You can see her when she gets off work. Besides, do you even know where she's working? The depot's a big place to be running around at night.”

“I know her duty building,” Hack said as he chugged the last third of his beer and scurried out of the bar.

Decker shrugged and returned to reading from his Book of Dates and the requisition lists. “This is weird.”

“What do you mean ‘weird'?” asked Mo. “It's
your
writing.”

Decker looked up with a quizzical expression. “There's something about the dates of a few of these entries. I include in my Book of Dates when certain people go on vacation or are away from the ship.”

“That is weird,” said Mo. “Strange that you would write that in your book. Who do you keep track of?”

“My supervisors. Chief and the commander. It's always a banner day when they're off the ship.”

“Agreed,” said Mo. “When my chief's gone, it's like a vacation day.”

“Thank you, sir” Decker said. “I'm glad you agree with my methodology.”

“But what do vacations have to do with anything?”

“Saturday, December 28,” Decker repeated. “You remember that date?”

“Not off the top of my head.”

Decker held his notebook in front of Mo, pointing to an entry. “That's the day I went to Mrs. Doerr's house. I believe you'll find that entry right here.”

“Why did you go to her house?” asked Vega, visibly annoyed.

“The boxes, remember,” Decker said, refusing to meet Vega's eyes. “I just helped her move some stuff to her garage.” He put the book in his lap and grabbed the copies of the requisition lists. For the next couple of minutes, he spread the papers on the table and began comparing the papers with entries in the book.

“I knew it,” Decker said, continuing to leaf through the papers.

“Knew what?” asked Mo. “Don't tell me you're going to be like this all night?”

“December 28,” Decker said once again. “That's the date I went to Piper's house.”

“You told us that already,” Vega said, sounding exasperated. She held up her hands. “Now don't bother me. I'm trying to do long division. I wish I'd paid more attention in math class.”

“That's not the only important event of December 28,” said Decker, holding the book open to the entry for Mo to read. “Chief went on leave to Baguio City the following week.”

Mo shrugged. “No big deal about that. He takes time off now and then like we all do.”

Decker paused, collecting his thoughts before he spoke again. “That's not the only thing that happened that week. There was a requisition placed on January 2 the week Chief was out of town.”

“Maybe Pinto placed the order,” Mo said. “Ask him when he comes back.”

Decker took hold of Mo's arm. “Don't say anything about it to him.”

“Why not?”

“Hack did an inventory of these requisition lists. Three of the orders were fake. The items were never delivered to the ship.” Decker picked up the papers. “One of the bogus orders was placed January 2.”

“So Chief Fray had help,” Mo said. “Or you were wrong about him like I've been saying all along.”

Decker took a quick look behind him. “Where'd Pinto go anyway?

“I have no idea,” Vega said. “I watched him take off as soon as Hack left. Maybe he—”

“Here is your order,” Pong interrupted. “I am so sorry for the delay.”

“No problem at all,” Mo said, smiling at the extra portions of lumpia piled on the plate.

Pong leaned over the table next to Decker. “Let me show you something,” he said. “I bought it in Manila the other day. An M1917 Enfield.”

“A what?” asked Decker.

“A rifle,
pare
. It was used by the Philippine army at the start of the war. I bought one in very nice condition. They told me it still works. I would bring it out to show you, but I do not want to scare people.”

“This I've got to see,” Decker said. He turned to Mo and Vega. “Be right back. Don't drink my beer.”

“I'll take good care of it,” Mo smiled, winking at Vega.

“I'll bet,” Decker said with a laugh and followed Pong through the club to a door behind the bar that led to a narrow hallway. Pong, obviously excited, talked about the rifle until Decker suddenly stopped in front of a set of double doors at the entrance to the kitchen. “What's that sign say? The one on the left.”

“Use other door,” Pong said. “Some of my employees do not know English too well. They come from the provinces. So I make all signs in Tagalog.”

Decker turned to Pong. “My friend, I have to go. I'll be back to look at the rifle later. I promise.” Decker ran down the hall and across the club to Mo and Vega's table.

“Mo!” Decker yelled over the noise of the band.

“We have to go!” Decker and Vega said in unison.

Decker cocked his head. “How did you know what I was going to say?”

“You surprised me,” Vega said. “The numbers adds up. We need to find Hack before he gets to the depot.”

“Now?” Mo asked. “My food just got here.”

“No time for that.” Vega grabbed him by the arm. “We've got to move fast.”

Mo stood, threw his napkin on the table, downed his beer, and belched. “Great.”