High Crimes

In the library he was introduced to Grimes and refused to sit down. “I wanna know why you guys don’t drop a dime to the Post or the Washington Times,” Devereaux said. “Only thing that’ll derail this express train. Open the door and let in the light of day.”

“No,” Claire said urgently, shaking her head. “Then Tom becomes William Calley. No matter if we get him off or not. For the rest of his life, he’s a mass murderer, and my daughter has to live with that.”

“But if you change your mind,” Grimes said, “just don’t use your phone. Don’t even talk about it on your phone.”

“You think they’ve got an illegal tap on my phones?”

Devereaux laughed the laugh of the man who’s seen it all.

“Lady,” Grimes said, “I put nothing past ’em.”

“Okay. Field report,” Devereaux announced. “Of the men in Detachment 27 I’ve been able to locate, there’s Hernandez, who probably salutes General Marks’s bowel movements. Two are in the private sector. Two I can’t find. That’s all of them.”

“Including Tom, that’s six,” Grimes said. “There were twelve in the unit. Where’s the other six?”

“Dead.”

“That’s what Tom told me,” Claire said.

“There seems to be a high mortality rate in that unit, wouldn’t you say? Six of the men have died since 1985.”

“How?” Claire asked.

“Two in combat, but there’s nothing available about the circumstances of their deaths. Three dead in car accidents. One, who lived in New York City and never owned a car or had a driver’s license, died of a heart attack.”

“Because they couldn’t plausibly engineer a car accident for the guy,” Grimes said, nodding. “But heart attacks can be faked, with the right chemicals.”

“Tom was right,” Claire said. “He said they were going to go after him, too.”

“They didn’t figure on losing him the way they did,” Devereaux said.

Claire heard a small noise at the doorway and saw Annie standing there, thumb in her mouth, dragging her blanket behind her. Another regression. “What are you doing up?”

“The doorbell woke me up,” Annie said in a small voice. She looked around the library, blinking.

“Annie!” Devereaux sang out. He strode over to her and put his arms out. “Want an elevator ride?”

“Yeah!” Annie said, reaching up.

Devereaux lifted her up almost to the ceiling. “Tenth floor! Going down.” Lowering her in stages, he said, “Eighth floor! Sixth floor! Third floor! Lobby!” She screamed with delight. Then, catapulting her upward, he said, “Whoops! Going up! Tenth floor!” And, plunging her to the floor: “Going down! Express! Basement!”

“Ray!” Claire scolded. “This little girl has to go to sleep, and you’re getting her all riled up.”

Annie giggled. “More!”

“No more,” Devereaux said. “Your mommy says it’s sleepytime.”

“Can I play in here for a little while?”

“It’s bedtime, babe,” Claire said.

“But I don’t have school.”

Claire hesitated but a moment. “All right, for a little while. Do you guys mind? She never sees me these days.”

“Is she bound by attorney-client confidentiality?” Grimes asked.

“You’ve got to be real quiet, okay?” Claire said.

“Okay.”

Annie began walking around the library, inspecting the objects, playing with a paperweight.

“We’re going to have to replace Embry,” Grimes said. “Or they’ll replace him, more likely. But we definitely need someone inside the system.”

“You really think he leaked our plans about the polygraph?” Claire asked.

“You got any other candidates?”

“No. But, just judging by his character — I find it hard to accept.”

Annie had both of her hands around the porcelain urn.

“Be careful,” Claire said to Annie. “This isn’t our house.” But Annie didn’t remove her hands. She stared at her mother with defiance.

“You’re such a good judge of character?” Devereaux gibed.

“It’s a different world, the military,” Grimes said. “Different rules. Different loyalties. Different values. Different morality. He may be a moral guy, but his loyalty is to the system, to protecting the military. Not to us.”

“If you really believe that,” Claire said, “why not try to get him disbarred? Annie, honey, I mean it. I want you to go to bed now.”

“Ah, I was just talking trash. How am I going to prove it? Never happen.”

There was a sudden movement, and the urn toppled to the hardwood floor with a sickening crash.

“Annie!” Claire shouted.

Annie gave Claire a ferocious look and stared at what she’d done. The urn had smashed into tiny pieces, scattered far and wide over the polished floor.

“Oh, God,” Claire said, jumping up. “Annie! All right, you, back to bed.”

“No, I don’t want to go to bed!”

“Bedtime, miss.” Claire lifted her up.

Annie wriggled, swung her body to either side, protesting angrily, “I’m... not... going... to bed!”

“Hey,” Devereaux said.

“What?” Claire said as Annie managed to free herself from Claire’s arms and landed neatly on the floor. She ran out of the room. “Annie, come back here, baby!”

“Check this out.” He pointed at the shards of porcelain scattered on the hardwood floor.

Claire and Grimes approached. “What you talking about?” Grimes asked.

“This,” Devereaux said.