demille.thegeneralsdaughter-第78部分

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　He　nodded；　then　smiled　at　us。　〃You　two　getting　along？　Or　is　that　a　leading　question？〃
　Cynthia　returned　the　smile。　〃We're　renewing　our　friendship。〃
　〃Right。　Where'd　you　meet？〃
　〃Brussels。〃
　〃Great　city…〃
　And　so　on。　But　every　once　in　a　while；　he　would　nonchalantly　ask　something　like；　〃So　Moore's　definitely　not　the　murderer？〃
　〃Nothing　is　definite；〃　Cynthia　replied；　〃but　we　don't　think　so。〃　She　added；　〃It's　scary　how　close　we　came　to　accusing　the　wrong　man。〃
　〃If　he　is　the　wrong　man。　You're　saying　he　tied　her　up　and　left？〃
　〃Right；〃　I　replied。　〃I　can't　reveal　why；　but　we　know　why。〃
　〃Then　he's　an　accessory　to　murder。〃
　〃Not　legally；〃　I　said。　〃It　was　something　pletely　different。〃
　〃Weird。　Did　your　puter　lady　get　what　she　needed？〃
　〃I　think　so。　Unfortunately　for　some　guys；　Ann　Campbell　left　a　sort　of　sexual　diary　in　the　puter。〃
　〃Oh；　Jesus　。。。　am　I　in　there？〃
　〃I　think　so；　Bill。〃　I　added；　〃With　about　thirty　other　officers。
　〃My　God　。。。　I　knew　she　had　lots　of　。。。　but　not　that　many　。。。　God；　I　feel　like　a　fool。　Hey；　can　we　get　the　diary　classified？〃
　I　smiled。　〃You　mean　like　top　secret？　e　up　with　a　national　security　angle　and　I'll　see　what　I　can　do。　Meanwhile；　the　decision　rests　with　the　judge　advocate　general；　or　the　attorney　general；　or　both。　I　think　you　have　enough　pany　not　to　be　too　concerned　with　being　singled　out。〃
　〃Well；　but　I'm　a　cop。〃
　〃There　were　guys　in　that　diary　with　more　power　and　prestige　than　you。〃
　〃That's　good。　How　about　Fowler？〃
　〃Can't　say。　Hey；　did　you　know　that　Burt　Yardley　was　also　in　the　honey？〃
　〃No　kidding　。。。？　Jesus　。。。〃
　〃You　see；　you　had　more　in　mon　with　Burt　than　you　realized。〃　But　seriously；　Bill。　〃Do　you　know　him　well？〃
　〃Only　professionally。　We　attend　the　monthly　G…5　meetings。〃
　That's　civilian　affairs；　and　if　I'd　thought　about　it；　I'd　have　realized　that　they　were　thrown　together　often　enough；　chief　and　provost；　top　cop　and　top　cop；　to　work　out　a　mutual　ass…covering　arrangement。
　Kent　asked；　〃Have　either　of　you　gone　over　to　the　chapel　yet？〃
　〃No；〃　Cynthia　replied。　〃I　think　we'll　wait　until　the　service　tomorrow。　Are　you　going　to　the　chapel　tonight？〃
　He　glanced　at　his　watch。　〃Yes；　of　course。　I　was　a　lover。〃
　I　asked；　〃How　big　is　that　chapel？〃
　We　both　shared　a　little　laugh；　but　it　was　definitely　a　crude　remark；　and　Cynthia　gave　me　a　really　mean　look。
　I　asked　him；　〃Is　Mrs。　Kent　still　in　Ohio？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃Until　when？〃
　〃Oh　。。。　another　few　days。〃
　〃That's　a　long　drive。　Or　did　she　fly？〃
　He　glanced　at　me；　then　replied；　〃Flew。〃　He　forced　a　smile。　〃On　her　broom。〃
　I　returned　the　phony　smile　and　said；　〃Can　I　ask　if　her　departure　is　related　to　ugly　rumors　about　you　and　Captain　Campbell？〃
　〃Well　。。。　there　was　a　little　of　that；　I　guess。　We're　trying　to　work　it　out。　But　she　really　doesn't　know。　She　just　thinks。　You're　not　married；　but　maybe　you　understand。〃
　〃I　was　married。　Cynthia　is　married。〃　He　looked　at　her。　〃Are　you？　Military？〃
　〃Yes。　He's　at　Benning。〃
　〃Tough　life。〃
　And　so　forth。　Perfectly　pleasant。　Two　warrant　officers；　CID　types；　and　a　senior　missioned　officer；　the　MP　mander；　drinking　and　talking　about　life；　love；　the　job；　and；　every　once　in　a　while；　sandwiching　in　the　subject　of　murder。　This　is　an　interesting　interrogation　technique；　and　it's　quite　effective　in　appropriate　situations；　like　this　one。　In　fact；　I　call　it　the　murder　sandwich…a　little　bread；　meat；　lettuce；　blood；　cheese；　tomato；　blood；　and　so　forth。
　But　Bill　Kent　wasn't　your　average　suspect；　and　I　had　the　distinct　impression　that　he　knew　what　this　was　about；　and　that　he　knew　that　we　knew　that　he　knew；　and　so　on。　So　it　became　a　little　dance；　a　charade；　and　at　one　point　our　eyes　met；　and　then　he　knew　for　sure；　and　I　knew　for　sure。
　At　this　point；　when　a　guy　realizes　you're　on　to　him；　it's　kind　of　awkward　for　everyone；　and　the　suspect　goes　into　an　exaggerated　nonchalance；　trying　to　show　how　pletely　at　ease　he　is。　Sometimes；　too；　a　perverse　or　reverse　sort　of　logic　takes　over；　and　the　suspect　gets　ballsy。　In　fact；　Kent　said　to　us；　〃I'm　glad　I　asked　you　two　to　take　this　case。　I　was　pretty　sure　Bowes　was　involved　with　her；　but　I　didn't　want　to　say　that　in　case　it　wasn't　true。　He　has　no　special　homicide　investigators　on　his　team　here　anyway；　and　they'd　have　just　sent　somebody　like　you　two　from　Falls　Church　eventually。　Or　they'd　have　called　the　FBI　right　away。　So　I　was　glad　you　were　here。〃　He　looked　at　me　and　said；　〃We've　worked　together　before；　and　I　knew　you'd　be　right　for　this　case。〃　He　added；　〃You've　only　got　until　noon　tomorrow；　right？　But　you　know　what？　I　think　you're　going　to　wrap　it　up　before　noon。〃
　And　so　we　sat　there　a　minute；　playing　with　cocktail　stirrers　and　napkins；　Cynthia　and　I　wondering　if　there　was　a　murderer　at　the　table；　and　Bill　Kent　contemplating　the　end　of　his　career　at　the　very　least；　and　perhaps　wrestling　with　the　notion　of　telling　us　something　that　would　get　us　out　of　here　by　noon　tomorrow。
　Sometimes　people　need　encouragement；　so　I　said　to　him　in　a　tone　he'd　understand；　〃Bill；　do　you　want　to　take　a　walk？　Or　we　can　go　back　to　your　office。　We　can　talk。〃
　He　shook　his　head。　〃I　have　to　go。〃　He　stood。　〃Well　。。。　I　hope　those　butchers　at　the　morgue　left　enough　of　her　for　an　open　casket。　I'd　like　to　see　her　again　。。。　I　don't　have　a　photo　。。。〃　He　forced　another　smile。　〃There　aren't　too　many　souvenirs　of　an　extramarital　affair。〃
　Actually；　there　had　been　a　room　full　of　them。　Cynthia　and　I　stood　also；　and　I　said；　〃Get　one　of　those　recruiting　posters　before　everyone　else　thinks　the　same　thing。　Collector's　item。〃
　〃Right。〃
　〃Thanks　for　the　drinks；〃　I　said。
　He　turned　and　left。
　We　sat。　Cynthia　watched　him　walking　away；　then　said；　as　if　to　herself；　〃He　could　be　upset　over　the　end　of　his　career；　his　soon…to…be…public　disgrace；　his　troubled　marriage；　and　the　death　of　someone　he　cared　for。　Maybe　that's　what　we're　seeing。　Or　。。。　he　did　it。〃
　I　nodded。　〃Hard　to　evaluate　his　behavior　given　all　he's　going　through。　Yet；　there　is　something　about　a　person's　eyes　。。。　they　speak　their　own　language；　from　the　heart　and　soul。　They　speak　love；　grief；　hate；　innocence；　and　guilt。　They　speak　the　truth　even　as　the　person　is　lying。〃
　Cynthia　nodded。　〃They　sure　do。〃
　We　both　sat　in　silence　awhile；　then　Cynthia　asked；　〃So？〃
　I　looked　at　her；　and　she　looked　back　into　my　eyes；　a　sort　of　experiment；　I　guess；　and　we　both　agreed　without　speaking　that　Bill　Kent　was　our　man。
　
　CHAPTER　THIRTY…ONE
　
　We　skipped　dinner　and　drove　out　on　Rifle　Range　Road　toward　Jordan　Field。　As　Kent　had　indicated　earlier；　there　was　an　MP　checkpoint　on　the　road；　and　we　had　to　stop　and　identify　ourselves。　When　we　got　to　the　MP　booth　at　the　entrance　to　Jordan　Field；　we　went　through　another　identification　procedure；　then　yet　another　at　the　door　of　hangar　three。　The　Army　liked　to　keep　reporters　in　the　press　conference　room；　where　the　Army　thought　they　belonged。　Reporters　liked　to　roam。　These　differences　of　opinion　have　been　going　on　for　a　few　hundred　years。　The　Army　citing　security　considerations；　the　press　invoking　their　traditional　and　lawful　privileges。　The　Army　has　gotten　the　upper　hand　in　recent　decades；　having　learned　at　least　one　lesson　in　Vietnam。
　My　own　experiences　with　the　press　began　in　Vietnam　when　a　reporter　stuck　a　microphone　under　my　nose　while　we　were　both　pinned　down　by　machine…gun　fire。　The　news　camera　rolled；　and　the　reporter　asked　me；　〃What's　happening？〃　I　thought　the　situation　spoke　for　itself；　but　young　idiot　that　I　was；　I　replied；　〃An　enemy　machine　gun's　got　our　range。〃　The　guy　asked；　〃What　are　you　going　to　do　now？〃　I　said　to　him；　〃Leave　you　and　the　camera　guy　here。〃　And　I　made　a　hasty　withdrawal；　hoping　the　enemy　gunner　would　concentrate　his　fire　on　the　gentlemen　of　the　press。　Somewhere；　that　news　footage　was　in　an　archive；　preserved　for　posterity。　I　never　saw　the　two　guys　again。
　The　hangar　was　nearly　deserted；　most　of　the　forensic　people　having　gone　back　to　Fort　Gillem；　or　on　to　other　assignments；　with　their　equipment。　But　about　half　a　dozen　people　had　stayed　behind　to　type　reports　and　plete　a　few　more　tests。
　Ann　Campbell's　home　was　still　there；　as　well　as　the　humvee　and　her　BMW；　but　her　office　was　gone。　Nevertheless；　Grace　Dixon　sat　at　a　camp