Текст книги "The Simple Truth"
Автор книги: David Baldacci
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Текущая страница: 22 (всего у книги 26 страниц)
As Ed paused, Sara glanced over at the table where John Fiskes medal for valor sat. A little piece of metal for all that pain.
I tell you all this so youll see Johnny doesnt really have the same goals as you and me might. Never got married, never talks about having no kids of his own. Everything is sped up for him. He figures if he makes it to fifty, hes the luckiest man on earth. He told me that himself. Ed Fiske looked down, his voice catching. Never figured Id outlive Mike. I hope to God I dont outlive my other boy.
Sara finally found her voice. I appreciate your telling me this. I realize it was hard for you. You dont really know me.
Depending on the situation, sometimes you can know a person better in ten minutes than someone youve crossed paths with all your life.
Sara rose to leave. Thank you for your time. And John really needs to hear from you.
He nodded solemnly. Ill do that.
As her hand touched the doorknob, Ed spoke one last time. You still love my son?
Sara walked out without answering. *����*����* At the small caf�own from his office building, Fiske bought his coffee and sat down at an outside table. McKenna did the same. At first Fiske chose to completely ignore the hovering FBI agent and idly watched the passersby while he drank his coffee. He slipped on his sunglasses as the sun cleared the top of the building across the street and drew both mens shadows across the bricks. McKenna silently munched on some crackers he had bought and fingered his Styrofoam cup of coffee.
Hows the gut? Sorry I had to punch you like that.
The only thing youre sorry about is that you didnt hit me harder.
No, really. I saw the shotgun and got concerned.
Fiske looked up at him. I guess you thought I might be able to somehow open the car door, pull the shotgun out, swing it around and get off a shot before you could blow me away from a distance of, what, six inches?
McKenna shrugged. FYI, I read up on your police record. You were a good cop. Right up until the end, anyway.
What the hell is that supposed to mean?
McKenna sat down at the table. Nothing, other than there being some questions about that last event in your record. Care to fill me in on it?
Fiske took off his glasses and stared at the man. Why dont you put a bullet in my head instead? I think that would be more fun for me.
McKenna leaned his chair back against the side of the building and lit up a cigarette. You know, if youre so anxious to prove your innocence, then you might want to start being a little more cooperative.
McKenna, youre convinced I killed my brother, so why should I bother?
Ive worked a lot of cases over the years. Half the time my original theory didnt turn out to be right. My philosophy is: Never say never.
Boy, you really sound sincere.
McKenna assumed a friendlier tone. Look, John, Ive been doing this stuff a long time, okay? Nice, neat little cases arent the norm. There are twists on this one and Im not ignoring them. He stopped and then added as casually as he could, So why was your brother interested in Rufus Harms, and what exactly was in the appeal?
Fiske put his sunglasses back on. That doesnt fit into your theory of me killing my brother.
Thats only one of my theories. Im down here following that up by looking for your suddenly vanished nine-millimeter. While Im waiting on that, Im looking at it from another angle: Rufus Harms. Your brother took the appeal, it looks like he visited the prison.
Chandler told you that?
I have a lot of information sources. You and Evans have both been snooping around into Harmss background. He escaped from a prison in southwest Virginia. And you two took a chartered plane to that area last night. Why dont you tell me about that? Whered you go and why?
Fiske sat back, stunned. McKenna had put them under surveillance. That wasnt unusual, yet somehow Fiske hadnt even thought about the possibility. You seem to know so much why ask me?
You might have some information I could use to solve this case.
Ahead of Chandler?
When people are getting killed, what does it matter who stops it first?
That statement made a lot of sense, Fiske knew. On the surface, at least. But of course it mattered a great deal who stopped it. People in law enforcement kept score, just like people in other lines of work. Fiske stood up. Lets check in with Billy. By now hes probably found those two bodies I stuffed in my file cabinet last week.
Hawkins was just finishing up when they returned.
Nothing, he said in response to McKennas look. You can search it yourself if you want, he added defiantly.
Thats okay, I trust you, McKenna said amicably. Fiske was staring at Hawkins. Whats that, Billy? Fiske pointed at his neck and collar.
Whats what?
Fiske touched Hawkinss collar with his finger and then held it up for the man to see. Hawkins blushed a little. Oh. Damn, that was Bonnies idea to cover the bruises. Thats why my face doesnt look so beat up. Ive never been hit that hard in my life. I mean, the guy was big, but so am I.
McKenna said, I wouldve emptied my clip in the bastard.
Fiske stared openmouthed at McKenna as he said this. Hawkins nodded. I was tempted. But anyway, the guys would give me hell if they knew, but its so hot outside and you start sweating, and the stuff just comes off on your clothes. I dont know how women do it.
Then youre saying its
Yeah, its makeup, he said sheepishly. Despite the revelation that had just occurred to him, Fiske tried his best to appear calm. He unconsciously rubbed his still-tender shoulder. McKenna was staring at him. Just then the phone rang. Fiske picked it up. It was the nursing home where his mother lived.
I read about Michael in the paper. Im so sorry, John. The woman had worked at the home for years and Fiske knew her very well.
Thanks, Anne. Look, right now is a real bad time
I mean, Michael was just here and now hes gone. I cant believe it.
Fiske tensed. �Here, as in at the nursing home?
Yes. Just last week. Thursday no, Friday.
The day he disappeared.
I remember because he usually comes on Saturday.
Fiske shook his head clear. What are you talking about? Mike didnt visit Mom.
Sure he did. I mean, not nearly as often as you did.
You never told me that.
Didnt I? Well, I guess if you have to know, Michael didnt want you to know.
Why in the hell didnt he want me to know? Im sick and tired of people not telling me things about my brother.
Im sorry, John, the woman said, but he asked me not to say anything and I honored his request. Thats all. But now that hes gone, I . . . I didnt think it would hurt for you to know.
He saw Mom on Friday? Did he talk to you?
No, not really. He seemed a little nervous, actually. I mean, sort of anxious. He came really early and only stayed about a half hour.
So they talked?
They met. I dont know how much they actually talked. Gladys can be difficult sometimes. When do you think you might stop by to see her? I mean, she couldnt possibly know about Michael, but still she seems very depressed for some reason.
It was clear to Fiske that the woman believed a mothers link to her children could trump even the grip of Alzheimers. Im really busy right Fiske broke off what he was saying. It would be a miracle if his mother could remember anything of any conversation she might have had with Mike that could possibly help them. But if she did?
Ill be right over.
Fiske hung up the phone, picked up his briefcase and stuffed the stack of mail in there.
Your brother visited your mom on the day he disappeared? McKenna asked. Fiske nodded. Then she might be able to tell us something.
McKenna, my mom has Alzheimers. She thinks John Kennedy is still president.
Okay, what about somebody who works there?
Fiske wrote down an address and phone number on the back of one of his cards. But leave my mom out of it.
Youre going to see her, arent you? How come?
Shes my mother. Fiske disappeared out the door. Hawkins looked over at McKenna. You ready to leave? Because I want to lock up. Dont want anybody else coming in here and stealing any more stuff.
The way Hawkins said it made McKenna blink. The guy couldnt know that he had taken the gun, could he? Still, he felt guilty about it. But he had bigger things to feel guilty about. Far bigger. ["C54"]CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Sara was stopped at a red light on her way to Fiskes office when she saw him drive through the intersection heading west. She didnt have time even to blow her horn. She thought about flagging him down, but a glimpse of his tense face stopped her. She turned right and followed him. Thirty minutes later she slowed as Fiskes car turned into the parking lot of a long-term care facility located in the West End of Richmond. Sara had been here once before, with Michael, to visit his mother. She kept her car hidden behind a broad-leaved evergreen next to the entrance and watched as Fiske stepped out of his car and hurried inside. Fiske met up with Anne, the woman who had just called him, who apologized again and led him to the visitors lounge, where Gladys sat docilely in her pajamas and slippers. When Fiske appeared, she looked up and silently clapped her hands together. Fiske sat down across from her, and Gladys put out her hands and tenderly touched his face. Her smile broadened, her eyes wide and catching absolutely nothing of reality.
Hows my Mike? Hows Mommas baby?
He gently touched her hands. Im fine. Doing good. Pops good too, he lied. We had a nice visit the other day, didnt we?
Visits aresonice. She looked behind him and smiled. She often did that. It was hard keeping her attention. She was an infant now, the cycle complete. She touched his cheek again. Your daddy was here.
When was that?
She shook her head, Last year sometime. He got leave. His ship went down. Japs done it.
Really? Hes okay, isnt he?
She laughed long and loud. Oh yes, that man is A-okay. She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, Mike, honey, can you keep a secret?
Sure, Mom, Fiske said hesitantly. She looked around, blushing. Im pregnant again.
Fiske took a deep breath. This was a new one. Really? When did you find out?
Now, dont you worry, sweetie, Mommas got enough love to go around for all of you. She pinched his cheek and kissed his forehead. He squeezed her hand and managed a smile. We had a good talk the other day, didnt we? She nodded absently. This was crazy, he thought, but he was here and he might as well try. I had a good trip. You remember where I went?
You went to school, Mike, just like every day. Your daddy took you on his ship. She frowned. You be careful out there. Lot of fighting going on. Your daddys out fighting right now. She punched a fist in the air. Get em, Eddie.
Fiske sat back and stared at her. Ill be careful. Looking at her was like watching a portrait that was fading daily under unforgiving sunlight. Eventually, he would come to visit and all the paint would be gone, the only image left would come from his memory. And so life goes. I have to get going. Im, uh, Im late for school.
So pretty. She looked past him and waved. Hello, there. Fiske turned around and froze as he saw Sara standing there.
Im pregnant, honey, Gladys told her.
Congratulations, was all Sara could think to say. *����*����* Fiske stormed down the hallway to the exit, Sara trailing him. He threw open the door so hard it smacked against the wall.
John, will you stop and talk to me? she pleaded. He whirled around. How dare you come and spy on me.
I wasnt spying.
Its none of your damn business. He pulled out his keys and got into his car. She jumped in.
Get the hell out of my car.
Im not budging until we talk about this.
Bullshit!
If you want me out, throw me out.
Damn you! Fiske shouted, before climbing out of the car. Sara followed him. Damnyou, John Fiske. Will you please stop running away and talk to me?
Weve got nothing to talk about.
We haveeverythingto talk about.
He pointed an unsteady finger at her. Why the hell are you doing this to me, Sara?
Because I care about you.
I dont need your help.
I think you do. I know you do.
They stood there staring at each other.
Cant we go somewhere and talk about this? Please. She slowly walked around the car and stood next to him. Touching his arm, she said, If last night meant half as much to you as it did to me, we should at least be able to talk. She stood there, convinced that his response would be to climb in his car and drive out of her life. Fiske looked at her for a moment, dropped his head and wearily leaned against his car. Saras hand slipped down to his and tightened around it. Fiske looked beyond her to a car parked on the road and the two men inside. Well have the Feds along for a ride. His manner and tone were now resigned. At least it wasnt McKenna back there.
Good, Ill feel very safe, she said, her gaze refusing to leave his, until finally she saw she hadnt lost him, at least for now. They climbed in their cars and Sara followed Fiske to a small shopping mall about a mile away, where they sat at an outdoor table and sipped lemonade in the heat of the late afternoon.
I can understand how you could hold that against your brother, although its not his fault, Sara said.
Nothing was ever Mikes fault, Fiske said bitterly.
Its not like your mother can help herself. It could just as easily be that she called Michael by your name.
Yeah, right. She chose not to remember me.
Maybe she calls you that because you visited her a lot more than Michael did and thats her way of reacting to it.
Im not buying that.
Sara looked angry. Well, if you want to be jealous of your brother even now that hes dead, then I guess thats your right.
Fiske settled a very cold gaze on her. She expected him to erupt. Instead, he said, I am, was, whatever, jealous of my brother. Who wouldnt be?
But that doesnt make it right.
Maybe it doesnt, Fiske said, his voice tired. He looked away. The first time I visited Mom and she called me Mike, I thought it was a temporary thing, you know, she was having a real bad day. After two months of it . . . He paused. Well, thats when I cut Mike off. For good. Everything that had ever ticked me off about him, no matter how stupid, I just blew up into a huge picture of this evil sonofabitch with no heart, nothing good. He had taken my mother away from me.
John, the day we came to see you at trial, I went with Michael to see your mother.
He tensed. What?
Your mother wouldnt even talk to him. He brought her a gift, she wouldnt take it. He told me she was always like that. He assumed that it was because she loved you so much, that she didnt care about him
Youre lying, Fiske said in a hushed tone.
No, Im not. Its the truth.
Youre lying! he said again, more forcefully.
Ask some of the people who work there. They know.
A few minutes of silence passed. Fiskes head was bowed. When he looked back up, he said, I never really thought about him losing his mother too.
Are you sure about that? Sara asked quietly. Fiske stared at her, his hands clenched. What do you mean? he said, his voice shaking.
What stopped you from talking to your brother? Michael told me you had shut him out, and you just admitted that. Even so, I cant believe you never knew how she treated him.
For a full minute Fiske said nothing. He stared at Sara, perhaps through her; his eyes revealed nothing of what he was thinking. Finally, he closed his eyes and said in a barely audible tone, I knew.
He looked at her. The terrible pain on his features made her tremble.
I just didnt want to care, Fiske said. Sara gripped his shoulder tightly. I guess I used it as an excuse not to have anything to do with my own brother. He took another deep breath. Theres something else. Mike did call me, before he went to the prison. I didnt call him back. Not until it was too late. . . . I killed him.
You cant blame yourself for that. Saras words had no effect, she could see that, so she changed tactics. If you want to blame yourself, then do it for the right reason. You unfairly cut your brother out of your life. You were wrong to do that. Very wrong. Now hes gone. Thats something youll have to live with forever, John.
Now he looked at her. His face grew calmer. I guess Ive been living with it already.
Since he had confided in her, Sara decided it was only fair to reciprocate. I saw your father today. Before Fiske could say anything, she hurried on. I promised you I would. I told him what really happened.
And he believed you, Fiske said skeptically.
I was telling the truth. Hes going to call you.
Thanks, but I wish you had kept out of it.
He filled in some gaps for me.
Like what? Fiske said sharply.
Like what happened to make you stop being a cop.
Dammit, Sara, you had no need to know that.
Yes, I did. A great reason.
What is it?
You know what!
Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Fiske looked down at the table too, and fiddled with his straw. Finally, he sat back and crossed his arms. So my dad told you everything?
Sara glanced up at him. About the shooting, yes. Her tone was cautious.
So you know Im probably not going to be alive and kicking when Im sixty or maybe even fifty.
I think you can beat any odds someone throws at you.
And if I dont?
If you dont, that doesnt matter to me.
He leaned forward. But it matters to me, Sara.
So you give up the life you do have?
I think Im leading my life exactly how I want to.
Maybe you are, she quietly conceded.
It would never work, you know.
So youve thought about it?
Ive thought about it. Have you? How do you know this isnt another impulse decision? Like buying your house?
Its what I feel.
Feelings change.
And its so much easier to admit defeat rather than work at something.
When I want something, I work very hard at it. Fiske had no idea why he said that, but he saw the devastated look on Saras face.
I see. And I guess I have no choice in the matter?
You really dont want to have to make that kind of a choice. She said nothing and Fiske remained quiet for a moment. You know, my dad didnt tell you everything, because he doesnt know everything.
He told me how you almost died, how the other officer did die. And the man who shot you. I can understand how that could change your life. How it could make you do what you do. I think its very noble, if thats the right word.
Thats not even close. Do you really want to know why I do what I do?
Sara could sense the sudden change of mood. Tell me.
Because Im scared. He nodded at her. Fear drives me. The longer I was a cop, the more it became us against them. Young, angry, attitude, with a pistol to back it all up. Fiske stopped speaking and watched through the glass partition as people inside bought refreshments. They appeared carefree, happy, pursuing some tangible goal in their lives; they were everything he wasnt, couldnt be. He looked back at Sara. I kept arresting the same guys over and over and it seemed like before I filed the paperwork they were back on the streets. And theyd blow you away like stepping on a cockroach. See, they lived the game of us against them too. You lump people together. Young and black, catch em if you can. Blues coming at you? Kill em if you can. Its quick and you dont have to make choices about individuals. Its like a drug addiction.
Not everybody does that. The whole world isnt made up of people like that.
I know that. I know that most people, black, white or whatever, are good people, lead relatively normal lives. I really want to believe that. Its just that as a cop I never saw any of that. Normal ships didnt sail by my dock.
So did the shooting make you rethink things?
Fiske didnt answer right away. When he did, he spoke slowly. I remember dropping to my knees to check the guy, who it turned out was faking a seizure. I heard the gun go off, my partner scream. I pulled my pistol at the same time I was turning. I dont know how I got a round off, but I did. It hit him right in the chest. We both went down. He lost his gun, but I kept mine. Pointed it right at him. He wasnt more than a foot from me. Every breath he took, blood kicked out of the bullet hole like a red geyser. It made this swishing sound I still hear in my sleep. His eyes had started to freeze up, but you never knew. All I knew was that he had just shot my backup, and he had just shot me. My insides felt like they were dissolving. Fiske let out a long breath. I was going to just wait for him to die, Sara. Fiske stopped talking as he recalled how close he had come to being another blue in a box, buried and mostly forgotten.
Your father said you were found with your arm around him, Sara gently prompted.
I thought he was trying to grab my gun. I had one finger on the trigger and one finger stuck in the hole in my gut. But he didnt even put his hand out. Then I heard him talking. I could barely make out what he was saying at first, but he kept saying it until I did.
What did he say? Sara asked gently. Fiske let out a breath, half expecting to see blood kick out of his old wounds, his tired, betrayed organs calling it quits on him forty years early. He was asking me to kill him. As if in answer to her unspoken question, Fiske said, I couldnt. I didnt. It didnt matter, though, he stopped talking a few seconds later.
Sara slowly sat back, unable to say anything.
I actually think he was terrified hewasntgoing to die. Fiske shook his head slowly, the words becoming more difficult to put together. He was only nineteen. Im an old man already, next to him. His name was Darnell Darnell Jackson. His mother was a crack addict, and when he was eight or nine she would whore him out for drug money.
He looked at her. Does that sound horrible to you?
Of course it does. Yes!
To me, it was the same old shit. I saw it all the time. Id become immune to it, or at least I thought I had. He licked his dry lips. I didnt think I had any compassion left. But after Darnell, I got some back. He flashed a troubled smile. I call it my steel-jacketed epiphany. Two slugs in my body, a kid dying in front of me, wanting me to finish him off. Its hard to imagine one event having enough force to make you question everything youve ever believed. But it happened to me that night. He nodded thoughtfully. Now I think of the whole future of the world solely in the context of Darnell Jackson. Hes my version of nuclear holocaust, only it wont be over in a few seconds. He looked at her. Thats the terror that drives me.
I think you really do care. You do a lot of good.
Fiske shook his head, his eyes glimmering. Im not some rich, brilliant white attorney running around nobly saving the little Eniss of the world. And it took a lost kid blowing up my insides with a cannon to make me even give a damn. How many people do you think really care?
You cant be that cynical, can you?
Fiske stared at her a moment before answering. Actually, Im the most hopeful cynic youll ever meet.
["C55"]CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
You did the right thing, Beth. As much as it hurts. I still cant believe it about Sara, though. Jordan Knight shook his head. They were in the back seat of his government limousine, which was threading its way through bumper-to-bumper traffic toward their Watergate apartment. Maybe she just cracked. The pressures are enormous.
I know, Elizabeth Knight said quietly.
It all seems so bizarre. A clerk steals an appeal. Sara knows about it but keeps quiet. The clerk is then murdered. Then the clerks brother comes under suspicion. John Fiske just doesnt strike me as the murderous type.
He doesnt strike me that way either. Her discussion with John Fiske had only deepened her fears. Jordan Knight patted his wifes hand. Ive checked on Chandler and McKenna. Both are rock-solid. McKenna has an excellent reputation at the Bureau. If anybody can solve this thing, I think those two can.
I find Warren McKenna rude and obnoxious.
Well, in his line of work I suppose he sometimes has to be, he pointed out.
Thats not all. Theres just something about him. Hes so intense, but he almost seems to be she paused, searching for the right word playacting.
In the middle of a murder investigation?
I know it sounds crazy, but its just how I feel.
The senator shrugged and stroked his chin thoughtfully. Ive always said a womans intuition is worth more than a mans best judgment. I guess in this town were all on a stage. Sometimes one does grow tired of it.
She eyed him closely. The New Mexico ranch beckons?
Ive got a dozen years on you, Beth. Every day becomes a little more precious.
Its not like were not together.
Time together in D.C. is not really the same. Were both so busy here.
My appointment to the Court is a lifetime one, Jordan.
I just dont want you to have any regrets. And Im trying my best not to have any.
They both fell silent and looked out the window as the car traveled along Virginia Avenue.
I heard you and Ramsey went at it tooth and claw today. Do you think you have a chance?
Jordan, you know I dont feel comfortable talking to you about these things.
Jordan reddened. Thats one thing I hate about this town, and our jobs. Government should not interfere in the covenant of marriage.
Funny talk, coming from a politician.
Jordan laughed deeply. Well, as a politician, I have to get up on the damn soapbox every now and then, dont I? He stopped and took her hand. I appreciate your going forward with the dinner for Kenneth. You took some heat for it, I know.
Elizabeth shrugged. Harold takes any opportunity, no matter how trivial, to tweak me, Jordan. Ive built up a very strong resistance. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, while he lovingly stroked her hair.
We really have prevailed, despite all the odds, havent we? We have a nice life, dont we?
We have a wonderful life, Jordan. She kissed him again and he put a protective arm around her.
I say tonight we cancel all of our appointments and just stay home. Have some dinner, watch a movie. And talk. We dont get to do that much anymore.
Im afraid I wont be good company.
Jordan squeezed her tightly. Youre always good company, Beth. Always.
When the Knights arrived at their apartment, Mary, their housekeeper, handed a phone message to Elizabeth. A curious expression crossed her face as she looked at the name on the paper. Jordan appeared in the hallway rubbing his hands together. He looked at Mary. I hope you have something nice planned for dinner.
Your favorite. Beef tenderloin.
Jordan smiled. I think were going to have a late dinner. Tonight the missus and I are going to relax completely. No interruptions. He looked at his wife. Anything wrong? He noted the paper in her hand.
No. Court business. It never ends.
You dont have to tell me that, he said dryly. Well, Im for a hot shower. He went down the hallway. Youre welcome to join me, he called over his shoulder. Mary went off to the kitchen, a smile on her lips at the senators remark. Elizabeth took the opportunity to slip into the study and dialed the number on the message.
Im returning your call, she said into the phone.
We need to talk, Justice Knight. Hows right now?
What is this about?
What Im about to tell you will come as quite a shock. Are you prepared for that?
For some reason, Elizabeth Knight sensed that the man was enjoying this. I really dont have time for the cloak-and-dagger rhetoric that obviously amuses you.
Well, Im going to give you a crash course in it.
What are you talking about?
Just listen.
And she did. Twenty minutes later she threw the phone down, raced out of the room and almost knocked down Mary, who was coming down the hallway. Elizabeth raced into the powder room, where she splashed water on her face. She gripped the edges of the sink, composed herself, opened the door and moved slowly down the hallway. She could still hear Jordan in the shower. She looked at her watch. She went out into the lobby and down the elevator to the reception area of the building and waited over by the main entrance. Time seemed to pass slowly. Actually only ten minutes had gone by since her phone call. Finally, a man she didnt recognize, but who clearly knew her by sight, appeared and handed her something. She looked down at it. When she looked back up, he had already disappeared. She put what he had given her into her pocket and hurried back up to her apartment.
Wheres Jordan? she asked Mary.
I believe hes in the bedroom getting dressed. Are you all right, Ms. Knight?
Yes, I. . . . my stomach was just a little upset, but Im fine now. I decided to stretch my legs and do some window shopping downstairs, get some fresh air. Would you mix up some cocktails and put them out on the terrace?
Its starting to rain.
But the awnings up. And I feel very claustrophobic all of a sudden. I need the air. Its been so hot and humid lately, and the rain has made things so cool. So very cool, she said wistfully. Make Jordans favorite, will you?
Beefeater Martini with a twist, yes, maam.
And the dinner, Mary . . . please make sure its absolutely wonderful. Just perfect.
I will, maam. Mary headed to the bar with a puzzled look on her face. Elizabeth Knight squeezed her hands together to fight the waves of panic. She just had to stop thinking about it. If she was going to make it through this, she had to merely act, not think. Please, God, help me, she prayed. ["C56"]CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Fiske stared moodily out the car window at the dark clouds. He and Sara were halfway to Washington, and neither one had said much on the drive up. Sara turned on the wipers as the rain started to fall. She looked over at him and frowned. John, weve got a lot of information to work with. We might want to use the next hour making some sense of it all.
Fiske glanced at her. I guess youre right. Do you have pen and paper anywhere?
Dont you have that in your briefcase?
He undid his seat belt, pulled his briefcase from the back seat and popped it open. He pushed through the stack of mail until his hands closed around a bulky package. Christ, that was fast.
What?
I think this is Harmss service record. Fiske tore it open and started reading. Ten minutes later, he looked at her. Its in two different parts. His service record, portions of the record of court-martial, and the personnel list from Fort Plessy during the time Harms was stationed there. Fiske pulled out a section marked MEDICAL RECORDS. He studied the pages and then stopped. Would you like to guess why Rufus Harms was so insubordinate, wouldnt take orders, was always in trouble?
