"I'll lose my job now," he said.
He got worried to the point of tears and Summer had to calm him down. Then he told us he had found Kramer's body and called the cops and cleared all the hourly renters out for safety's sake. Then Deputy Chief Stockton had shown up within about fifteen minutes. Then I had shown up, and when I left sometime later the kid recognized the same vehicle sounds he had heard before. Same engine noise, same drivetrain noises, same tire whine. He was convincing. He had already admitted that hookers used the place all the time, so he had no more reason to lie. And Humvees were still relatively new. Still relatively rare. And they made a distinctive noise. So I believed him. We left him there on his stool and stepped outside into the cold red glow of the Coke machine.
"No hooker," Summer said. "A woman from the base instead."
"A woman officer," I said. "Maybe fairly senior. Someone with permanent access to her own Humvee. Nobody signs out a pool vehicle for an assignation like that. And she's got his briefcase. She must have."
"She'll be easy to find. She'll be in the gate log, time out, time in."
"I might have even passed her on the road. If she left here at eleven twenty-five she wasn't back at Bird before twelve-fifteen. I was leaving around then."
"If she went straight back to the post."
"Yes," I said. "If."
"Did you see another Humvee?"
"Don't think so," I said.
"Who do you think she is?"
I shrugged. "Like we figured about the phantom hooker. Someone he met somewhere. Irwin, probably, but it could have been anywhere."
I stared across at the gas station. Watched cars go by on the road.
"Vassell and Coomer might know her," Summer said. "You know, if it was a long-term thing between her and Kramer."
"Yes, they might."
"Where do you think they are?"
"I don't know," I said. "But I'm sure I'll find them if I need them."
I didn't find them. They found me. They were waiting for me in my borrowed office when we got back. Summer dropped me at my door and went to park the car. I walked past the outer desk. The night-shift sergeant was back. The mountain woman, with the baby son and the paycheck worries. She gestured at the inner door in a way that told me someone was in there. Someone that ranked a lot higher than either of us.
"Got coffee?" I said.
"The machine is on," she said.
I took some with me. My coat was still unbuttoned. My hair was a mess. I looked exactly like a guy who had been brawling in a parking lot. I walked straight to the desk. Put my coffee down. There were two guys in upright visitor chairs against the wall, facing me. They were both in woodland BDUs. One had a Brigadier General's star on his collar and the other had a colonel's eagle. The general had Vassell on his nametape and the colonel had Coomer. Vassell was bald and Coomer wore eyeglasses and they were both pompous enough and old enough and short and soft and pink enough to look vaguely ridiculous in BDUs. They looked like Rotary Club members on their way to a fancy dress ball. First impression, I didn't like them very much.
I sat down in my chair and saw two slips of paper stacked square in the center of the blotter. The first was a note that said: Your brother called again. Urgent. This time there was a phone number with it. It had a 202 area code. Washington D.C.
"Don't you salute senior officers?" Vassell said, from his chair.
The second note said: Col. Garber called. Green Valley PD calculates Mrs. K died approx. 0200. I folded both notes separately and tucked them side by side under the base of my telephone. Adjusted them so I could see exactly half of each one. Looked up in time to see Vassell glaring at me. His naked scalp was going red.
"I'm sorry," I said. "What was the question?"
"Don't you salute senior officers when you enter a room?"
"If they're in my chain of command," I said. "You're not."
"I don't consider that an answer," he said.
"Look it up," I said. "I'm with the 110th Special Unit. We're separate. Structurally we're parallel to the rest of the army. We have to be, if you think about it. We can't police you if we're in your chain of command ourselves."
"I'm not here to be policed, son," Vassell said.
"So why are you here? It's kind of late for a social visit."
"I'm here to ask some questions."
"Ask away," I said. "Then I'll ask some of my own. And you know what the difference will be?"
He said nothing.
"I'll be answering out of courtesy," I said. "You'll be answering because the Uniform Code of Military Justice requires you to."
Vassell said nothing. Just glared at me. Then he glanced at Coomer. Coomer looked back at him, and then at me.
"We're here about General Kramer," he said. "We're his senior staff."
"I know who you are," I said.
"Tell us about the general."
"He's dead," I said.
"We're aware of that. We'd like to know the circumstances."
"He had a heart attack."
"Where?"
"Inside his chest cavity."
Vassell glowered.
"Where did he die?" Coomer said.
"I can't tell you that," I said. "It's germane to an ongoing inquiry."
"In what way?" Vassell said.
"In a confidential way."
"It was around here somewhere," he said. "That much is already common knowledge."
"Well, there you go," I said. "What's the conference at Irwin about?"
"What?"
"The conference at Irwin," I said again. "Where you were all headed."
"What about it?"
"I need to know the agenda."
Vassell looked at Coomer and Coomer opened his mouth to start telling me something when my phone rang. It was my desk sergeant. She had Summer out there with her. She was unsure whether to send her in. I told her to go right ahead. So there was a tap on the door and Summer came in. I introduced her all around and she pulled a spare chair over to my desk and sat down, alongside me, facing them. Two against two. I pulled the second note out from under the telephone and passed it to her: Col. Garber called. Green Valley PD calculates Mrs. K died approx. 0200. She unfolded it and read it and refolded it and passed it back to me. I put it back under the phone. Then I asked Vassell and Coomer about the Irwin agenda again, and watched their attitudes change. They didn't get any more helpful. It was more of a sideways move than an improvement. But because there was now a woman in the room they dialed down the overt hostility and replaced it with smug patronizing civility. They came from that kind of a background and that kind of a generation. They hated MPs and I was sure they hated women officers, but all of a sudden they felt they had to be polite.
"It was going to be purely routine," Coomer said. "Just a regular powwow. Nothing of any great importance."
"Which explains why you didn't actually go," I said.
"Naturally. It seemed much more appropriate to remain here. You know, under the circumstances."
"How did you find out about Kramer?"
"XII Corps called us."
"From Germany?"
"That's where XII Corps is, son," Vassell said.
"Where did you stay last night?"
"In a hotel," Coomer said.