Word of Honor (44 page)

"You're the one who coughed,"

"Listen, Lieutenant . . . to deny . . . well, to pretend that . . . there has not been some . . . " She drew on her cigarette again, then looked at her watch. "I have to go."

"Finish the sentence."

She nodded. "Well . . . some words and feelings, I guess you would say

. . . that have passed between us . . . that were other than professional or germane to the inquiry . . . "

"I'm losing the subject and object of the sentence. Do you mean that you think we've developed a personal rapport?"

"Yes, that's what I meant."

"An attraction of sorts.

"I suppose."

"Well, me too." He looked at her and reminded her, "You said on our first interview that wouldn't happen."

"Did I?-

"Yes. Well, anyway, I like you very much, and now the air is clear."

" Yes. "

He could see her hand with the cigarette shaking, and he realized his mouth had gone dry. "Well . . . so . . . what should we do about that?"

342 * NELSON DEMILLE

"Nothing. " She cleared her throat and threw the cigarette down. "if you want to include a statement in my report, notify me before noon tomorrow."

"Where are you staying?"

"The guest house. Here."

"Can we have dinner tonight?"

"Certainly not. Not unless you want to get me into more trouble than I'm already in."

"Sorry about that. It wasn't intentional."

"If it were anyone but you, I'd say it was an intentional ploy to gain some advantage. Anyway, it was as much my fault as yours." She extended her hand. "Good-bye, Lieutenant. "

He took her hand. "I'll be in my quarters tonight."

"And I'll be in mine." She turned and walked away.

Tyson watched her moving briskly down the bright sunny terrace. He said to himself, Well, there is flesh and blood there after all. He knew that he would see her again, and he knew, too, that nothing would come of it-not in a carnal sense anyway. But he understood, just as she must, that if the circumstances were different, then the outcome would be different. And when the time came that they parted for the last time, they would both be content in the knowledge that they had changed each other's life for the better.

Ben Tyson lay stretched out on he couch of his

darkened

CHAPTER living room. The small

room was stifling hot,

and he wore only a pair

of running shorts. A

cold bottle of beer

dripped onto the cof

fee table. He sat up and

took a deep breath. His

28 two-mile run around

the post had left him

exhausted. "You smoke too much, you drink too much, and you're old." He recalled the grueling infantry training he'd once accomplished with relative ease: thirty-mile forced marches with full combat gear, a hundred push-ups at a time, rock climbing a five-hundred-foot waterfall during jungle training in Panama. "My God, you were tough then. "

He stood slowly and walked to the small window fan.

He didn't know what the policy was on air conditioners, and he didn't care because he'd decided to rough it out though his resolve was weakening. "Pussy, Tyson. You're 343

344 * NELSON DEMILLE

a pussy." He did fifty quick jumping jacks, then began a series of bends. As he did he looked around the room. It was freshly painted and judging by the size of it, a half gallon would have done the job. The rest of the ground floor consisted of a small dining area and a kitchen. Upstairs were two bedrooms and a small bathroom. All the units in the row of redbrick attached houses were similar. Families with one and even two children were his neighbors. "Tyson," he said aloud, "you've been out of touch."

Cheap maple furniture, government property, was placed here and there, but he could bring his own, he was told. He tried to picture his furniture in this place and decided he'd have to stand it on end to make it fit. He'd have much preferred bachelor officers' quarters, which were more motel-like and efficient than this pretense of a home. But somewhere in the bowels of the Pentagon some bright half-wit had decided that Ben and Marcy should be given the opportunity to cohabitate. Presumably this decision was made in the spirit of the zookeepers who decide when and where the prize pandas should be allowed to mate.

There were no rugs or carpets on the wood floors, but in Army tradition the floors were highly polished. There were blinds on the windows but no drapes. His bedroom furniture consisted of a box spring and double mattress on a steel frame, one nightstand, and a mismatched chest of drawers. The second bedroom had a single bed, presumably for David. He'd had to sign for linens and towels but was expected to eventually get his own.

The kitchen held a stove and refrigerator and little else. There was no dishwasher, but he had no dishes so it worked out well. He wondered if he should get a coffeepot and invite the colonel and his lady for coffee.

Medals will be worn. Bring your own cups and spoons.

Tyson straightened up and took several deep breaths. The sun was fully set now, and the only illumination in the room came from the street lamps casting stripes of light and dark through the blinds. He hadn't been given a television and hadn't bothered to buy a radio. American primitive. He understood how fragile and statistically beyond the norm had been his existence in the magic suburb.

This wasn't exactly house arrest, he reminded himself.

WORD OF HONOR 9 345

He only had to be here between midnight and 6 A.m. He could conceivably take the subway into Manhattan and have dinner with someone. He could even drive into Garden City and go to his club or to his house and turn on the air conditioner, watch television, or jump into the Jacuzzi. But that wasn't what he wanted to do. He wanted to stay here, sweat, be bored, be alone, think, suffer, and get tough. "Tough," he said aloud.

Tyson ended his exercises and stood in front of the window fan again. A movement outside caught his eye, and he peered between the blinds. On the small lane that cut between the facing row houses he saw a figure approaching: a woman dressed in light slacks and dark top. She was carrying something in each hand, looking at the nameplates on the houses.

She stopped in front of his unit, hesitated, then strode up the path. In the light of the porch lamp, Tyson saw it was Karen Harper, carrying a furled umbrella.

He saw her lean the umbrella against his door, then the mail slot opened and a folded Army-tan envelope began to appear. Tyson stepped quickly to the front door, knelt, and pushed the envelope back outside. The envelope reappeared, and Tyson pushed it back but this time met with some resistance. Karen Harper called out softly, "What are you doing? Get away from there."

He spoke through the mail slot. "Is this a bill?"

"Don't be an idiot. Take this."

He yanked on the envelope and pulled it in through the slot. He stood and opened the door, and the umbrella fell at his feet. He looked up the path and saw Karen Harper halfway to the lane. He picked up the umbrella, noticing it had a PX tag on it, and threw it back into the living room.

He pulled the door shut and followed her, the envelope still in his hand.

He caught up with her as she turned onto the lane. They walked side by side in silence. She finally said, "Get some clothes on if you intend to walk next to me."

"It's hot. What's in this envelope?"

"You'll see when you open it. When are you going to get a telephone?"

"When I think of someone I want to call."

"You were asked to put in a telephone to facilitate this investigation.

"

346 * NELSON DEMILLE

"I have telephones in Garden City, Sag Harbor, and my borrowed apartment in Manhattan. I don't think I can afford another one on my salary."

"Well, no one can order you to install a telephone in your quarters, but it would be more convenient for everyone, yourself and your family included, if you did."

"I'll give it some consideration. Come on back. I'll give you a beer."

"I've got work to do."

"I want to discuss your request for a statement."

She slowed her pace. "All right. But we can't talk in your quarters."

"I'll get some clothes on, and we'll walk. Come and take a look at my accommodations."

She hesitated, then followed him back. He showed her in and turned on the table lamp beside the couch. He looked at her in the light, noticing the simple blue short-sleeve blouse and the light cotton slacks. She wore white tennis shoes.

Karen Harper glanced at him a few times, keeping her eyes focused on his, taking care not to drop them to his mostly bare body.

Tyson thought she looked rather good in civilian clothes. He noticed, too, that she was actually thinner than she appeared in uniform-smaller breasts and hips, more lithe, and longer limbed. He waved his arm around the room. "Not bad for an officer and a gentleman." He added, "I think it needs a mirror to make it look larger."

She didn't reply but looked at him oddly. He said, "Oh, yes. Bugs. Not cockroaches, to be sure." He smiled. "Ben Tyson is wising up. I had a private security firm here this morning, and they pronounced the premises bug-free. Cost me a bundle. I'd have liked for them to have found something. Then you could have seen the stuff hit the fan."

"You're a thorough man."

"I'm becoming so. Also, if I had a phone, I wouldn't discuss anything sensitive on it." He added, "As for me having a bug here to record you or anyone, you have my word again, as an officer and a gentleman, that there is no recording or transmitting device here."

She replied, "You didn't have to say that."

WORD OF HONOR 9 347

"No, we're beyond that. But just to be sure, can I check you for recording devices?"

She smiled. "Certainly not."

Tyson shrugged. "Can't hurt to ask. Anyway, this game is getting damned serious, isn't it? I mean, they've lifted my passport, I'm fairly certain I'm being watched, and I've been placed on restriction."

"The restriction is not very onerous."

"This house is onerous. Do you want to see the rest of the palace?"

"No." She added in a less than cordial tone, "If you think you are a martyr, you need to get some perspective. " She looked around the room.

"Most people have never had the kind of house or life you had. I don't know why anyone is supposed to feel sympathetic when we bear about someone who has lost his manor and now lives in the gatehouse. Half the world would give their left arm for the gatehouse.

Tyson did not respond.

She stayed silent a moment, then said, "You know, your real problem is that you may be charged with murder. Your problem of reduced life-style is minor. I'd advise you to give more thought to the murder charge and less to your creature comforts." She paused. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be lecturing you. "

"But you're fight. And I've come to the same conclusion. I mean to spend as much time here as possible until this is resolved. If I wind up in Leavenworth the transition will not be so shocking. If I wind up home I will kiss my garbage compactor." He smiled.

She smiled in return. "I admit it is hot as hell in here."

"Want a beer?"

"All fight,"

Tyson went into the kitchen and came back with two opened bottles of beer.

He handed her one and said, "I got these glasses at Bloomingdale's. They look just like Budweiser bottles. Tr~s chic." He added quickly, "I'm not whining. I like beer out of a bottle."

"I doubt it."

Tyson hoisted his bottle and gulped down half the beer. She drank from her bottle. Tyson said, "What's in the envelope?"

348 * NELSON DEMILLE

"Just some forms for you to sign."

"I don't sign Army forms."

"I heard. -

"Did you'? Word travels fast."

"You're the subject of many people's attention these days. Don't let it go to your head. Anyway, these are just forms stating the times and locations of our meetings and confirming that you were read your rights. You can discuss them with your attorney before you sign them, but I'd like to have them before I leave tomorrow."

"And if I can't reach my attorney?"

"Well . . . then mail them to me in Washington."

"You need them to include in your report."

- Yes. I I

"The one that's due five days from today?"

"Well . . . I thought I'd get this taken care of while you were here. Also there was the umbrella-"

"It was good of you to walk across post to deliver these forms and the umbrella. Especially considering you could have had everything delivered to the museum tomorrow morning. But I like the personal touch."'

"Yes, it was good of me." She changed the subject. "Will your family be joining you here?"

Tyson replied, "I think that given a choice between a beach resort and here, they'll opt for the beach."

She didn't respond, but he knew what she was thinking. He added, "It's not a matter of loyalty or being a fairweather family or being supportive. It's simply a practical matter. I don't want them here, and I've told them so.

I'll see them on weekends."

She nodded.

He added, "Tight quarters can lead to unnecessary stress. My son wouldn't have any friends. Marcy might be subject to some harassment-by the media.

That sort of thing."

Karen Harper nodded again.

Tyson cleared his throat. "Of course I realize they could go back to Garden City, and we'd be much closer. But I think everyone is better off staying where they are for the summer at least."

"I think so." She put her beer on the coffee table and WORD OF HONOR 9 349

looked at her watch. "We've been here about ten minutes. That's about as long as we should be here."

"In case someone is watching."

"Yes, in case someone is watching. As it turns out, they knew I went back to your room that night. So I'm glad I put it in my report. But I don't want to have to do any more explaining." She moved toward the door.

Tyson set down his beer bottle and slipped on his sandals and a T-shirt. He opened the door, and they left together.