High Crimes

“He gave the order over the field radio. He said, ‘You got ’em rounded up?’ And Hernandez, the XO, he goes, ‘Yeah, we got ’em.’ And he says, ‘Wax ’em.’ And Hernandez goes, ‘But, sir’ — and Marks says, ‘Wax ’em.’ And wacko Kubik does it happily. Knowing they’re all innocent.”

“So you were told,” Claire corrected. “You didn’t see that.”

“Right. But those guys had no reason to lie to me.”

“But isn’t it possible,” Claire persisted, “that the cover-up was already beginning by then? That a number of the men had carried out the murders and they were already planning to blame it on Kubik?”

After a long silence came Fahey’s voice: “Anything’s possible, I guess.”

“If you’re asked to testify,” Claire said, “you can’t talk about what you heard about Kubik. Or, for that matter, what you heard about Marks. That’s all hearsay, and it’s not admissible. But you can testify about how Marks called you in to prep you for your CID interview, and about how the CID wrote it out for you.”

There was a short laugh. “What makes you think I’m going to testify?”

Grimes asked, “Did anyone come talk to you about testifying?”

“Yeah, some guys from Army CID came to see me, ask me to take the stand. I told them what I told you. Told them I’m not going to lie to cover Marks’s ass. I don’t care if he’s the fucking President of the United States. So they said they were going to use my sworn statement from 1985, and I’d better come in and testify the same way.”

“Or?” Claire prompted.

“They muttered something about my veteran’s benefits, shit like that. I knew they were bullshitting. They can’t take that away. I told ’em to go fuck themselves. They got no power over me anymore. I gave a fake statement, what more do you want? I’m not going to go in there and perjure myself.”

“Excellent,” Claire said. “You’re right, they have no power over you.”

“That it?”

“Would you be willing to testify?” Grimes asked.

“That I lied to the CID? What, are you crazy?”

“To clear the record. Clear your conscience,” Grimes said.

“I got no interest in visiting that nightmare again.”

“We’ll fly you out here first class,” Grimes said with a weak smile at Claire and a shrug.

“Hey, first-class trip to Quantico,” Fahey said. “What’s second prize? All-expenses-paid vacation in Leavenworth?”

“If you’d rather do it the hard way, we can subpoena you,” Claire said.

“Military courts can’t subpoena people,” Fahey said. “Don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not talking military courts,” she said. “I’m talking about issuing a subpoena through the U.S. attorney.”

A long silence. “Who says I’m going to cooperate once I get there?”

“The law,” Claire said. “You won’t have a choice.”

“Hey, you do what you gotta do,” Fahey said.

There was a click, and the line was dead.

37

In the middle of the night, the phone rang again. Claire awoke with a hammering heart and pounding temples.

She let it ring. The answering machine would get it.

After five rings, the machine switched on, played her outgoing message, beeped. There was silence, then a click. She reached over, fumbled with the phone, and finally managed to turn off the ringer.

Her heartbeat slowing, she finally fell back asleep.

It didn’t ring again for three hours.

At five-fifty-six Monday morning, she awoke, glanced at the digital alarm clock, and knew she should get up and start preparing for court. Then she realized that the phone had been ringing, somewhere distant, somewhere in another room in the house. She remembered she’d turned off the ringer. She lay there in bed, her heart thumping again, and waited for the machine to get it.

This time a male voice came on over the answering machine. It was a youngish-sounding voice, crisp and authoritative. “Claire Heller,” he said.

She waited.

“Pick up the phone, it’s important.”

She reached over and picked it up. “Yes?”

“I have information for you,” the voice said.

“What kind of information?” She sat up slowly.

“For your trial.”

“Who’s this?”

“Information on Marks.”

“Who is this?”

Silence. Had he hung up?

“Lentini. You recognize the name?”

“Yes.”

“I need complete secrecy, and let me tell you right now, I won’t testify. I’m not testifying against him.”

“Can we meet?”

“Not at your house.”

“Where?”

“And with you only. Not with either of the other attorneys. Not your private eye either. I see anyone else, I take off.”

“How do you know I’m working with two attorneys?”

“I know people.”

“Is that how you got my number?”

“I can only meet at night. I have a job, and it’s not easy for me to get out of town.”

“I’ll meet you wherever it’s convenient for you.”

“Not near me. I won’t take that chance. Write this down.”

He gave her precise directions.

“Just you alone,” he said.

Annie was already at the breakfast table, wearing her feet pajamas and eating Cocoa Puffs. Claire, dressed in a handsome olive twill suit, kissed her and gave her a quick squeeze. “How’s my baby?”

“Goob,” Annie said through an immense mouthful.

“You going to paint with Jackie today?”

Annie nodded enthusiastically, eyes sparkling, and kept chewing. Claire made a large pot of coffee.