Authors: Nelson Demille
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Suspense, #War stories, #Vietnam War; 1961-1975, #Vietnamese Conflict; 1961-1975, #Mystery fiction, #Legal
"Nothing but the best for our boys in uniform."
"You were authorized to stay at the Presidential. Did you get your travel vouchers in the mail?"
Tyson swirled his glass and stared at the ice cubes. At length he replied,
"My attorney advised me not to accept any government funds. In any case, I stay at the Four Seasons when I'm in Washington."
WORD OF HONOR 9 217
"if you got a haircut and dressed up a bit you could use one of the officers' clubs in the area. Cheap drinks." She asked, "Do you intend to report to Fort Hamilton as ordered, in uniform?"
"I'm not sure.
"I'd strongly advise you to do so."
"My status is not settled. "
"Your status is clear. You are on active duty."
He shrugged.
She asked in a conversational tone, "Did you get your business taken care of today?"
Tyson nodded. "I met with a fellow who has done the legal groundwork to establish a nonprofit national defense fund for me. Then I met with a lawyer from the Reserve Officers Association, over on Constitution Avenue.
Then I had lunch with some people from the Disabled American Veterans. I have a ten percent disability as you know. Actually I think it's seven and a half percent, but what the hell. Anyway, they asked me to join, and I did. After lunch I met with a delegation from the Veterans of Foreign Wars, and then I called on my congressman."
"You've had a peripatetic day."
"Right. And I moved around a lot too."
She smiled, then said, "It's good to keep busy."
"Well, Major, you have to hustle when you're trying to beat a firing squad."
"Don't be melodramatic."
Tyson picked up his drink. "I had the feeling, today that I have a lot of support. That the government and the Army are following an unpopular course of action."
Karen Harper replied, "Well, that's the strength of a pluralistic society, Mr. Tyson. Free people rally around a cause or issue and fight the government. I think that's very healthy. "
"Do you understand what I'm telling you?"
"Yes. The government is aware of all this. But to use a military expression, the Rubicon has been crossed."
"Are they looking for a way to retreat with honor?"
"I don't think so. They can't."
Tyson commented, "Then the hell with them. They'll get a fight. "
218 * NELSON DEMILLE
She said, "I've always thought that ninety percent of wars, trials, and fistfights were started because no one knew how to back off while saving face. Perhaps if people didn't feel the need to save face, we could avoid conflict."
Tyson snorted. "That's a very feminine attitude. Face is important, and conflict is not necessarily bad."
The waitress brought Karen Harper's wine.
Tyson raised his glass. "To a short relationship."
She touched her glass to his. "Don't be sulky."
They both drank.
She said, "I forgot your umbrella.
"So I see. "
"I think I left it on the plane.
"It was a gift from-my grandmother, right before she died. "
"Then she won't know I lost it."
They stared at each other awhile, then smiled simultaneously. Tyson noticed she was in a somewhat lighter mood than last time. He wondered if this was because she had some good news for him. But based on the conversation so far, that wasn't likely. More likely she'd just gotten some good news for herself or had sex or bought a new shade of lip gloss.
She said, "I'm to advise you again of your right to remain silent and to have an attorney present and of your other rights in regard to this investigation."
"Pll waive that."
"Okay." She surprised him by signaling to a waitress. The waitress approached, and Karen Harper motioned toward the nearly full glass of wine. "Please take this and bring me a glass of Principessa Gavia. Do you have that?"
"Yes, ma'am. Only by the bottle."
" Fine. I I
The waitress took the glass and moved off.
Tyson said, "When in Rome . . ."
She replied, "It's actually a Piedmont wine from the Banfi estate at Gavia.
"Really."
"I visited the winery once."
"Are you going to drink the whole bottle?"
WORD OF HONOR @ 219
"I only want a glass."
"You wouldn't have ordered that at the Presidential."
"Probably not." She continued, "I've done some further work on this investigation. Mostly telephone calls plus some records research. I contacted Andrew Picard by phone. He was very reluctant to tell me the names of your two platoon members who gave him his story. But I persuaded him it would be in the best interests of justice."
Tyson recalled that Picard was an ex-officer and might also be vulnerable.
He replied, "I'm sure you were convincing." He lit a cigarette.
She stared at him awhile, then said, "Well, aren't you going to ask me who they were?"
"No, I'm playing it cool."
She replied, "Well, I'll pretend you asked because then I have to tell you.
One of the men who related the Mis6ricorde Hospital story to Picard was your former platoon medic, Steven Brandt. " She glanced at him. Tyson showed no reaction.
She continued, "He's now a physician in Boston. An orthopedist. I spoke to him by phone."
"Did you?"
"Yes. And he reiterated and confirmed the story he gave to Picard about the massacre."
"Did he?"
"And he elaborated on it somewhat. That is, he'd read Picard's book, of course, and he added some details."
Tyson knew it was Brandt, hoped it was Brandt, and not one of the others.
But there was another man, and Tyson had no idea who it could be.
Karen Harper continued, "I'm obligated to tell you about Brandt; that is, the name of a possible witness against you. But because his testimony was unswom, there was no transcript and no recording made. Therefore I'm not obligated to tell you precisely what he said. However, if we proceed to a formal investigation, you or your attorney will have the opportunity to cross-examine any sworn testimony Dr. Brandt might give. Do you understand this point of law?"
"I remember."
220 * NELSON DEMILLE
"Good." She seemed thoughtful, then said, "Was there any bad blood between you and Dr. Brandt?"
"He wasn't a doctor then, only a scared punk kid like the rest of us. The title 'doctor' has some cachet, and I don't want it used in these proceedings. How's that for a point of law?"
"I'll make a note of it. How about the bad blood?"
"No. I I
"Are you certain? Mr. Brandt-Spec/4 Brandt-was a conscientious objector.
There were often bad feelings between-"
"That's not true. The medics who were COS were as fine a group of soldiers as you could find. I respected their beliefs, their bravery, retrieving wounded under fire, carrying that huge medical bag that made them a better target than my lieutenant bar made me."
She nodded, then said, "But you're speaking in general terms. Did you feel that way about Brandt?"
"I'll think about that." Tyson stubbed his cigarette into an ashtray.
"Okay, who was the other man who spoke to Picard?"
"Richard Farley."
"Farley?"
"Yes. Do you remember him?"
"Vaguely."
"What do you remember about him?"
"Nothing of any consequence."
"Was he a good soldier?"
"Check his record."
"I'm asking you."
Tyson thought a moment. Farley. Why Farley? Why not?
"Mr. Tyson?"
"He was . . . not particularly bright, not particularly brave-somewhat below average in all areas."
"Any bad blood between you? I ask that because if there was an incident it might be possible to show that Farley is not unbiased toward you."
"I understand. But there was no bad blood between us. Neither was there any love lost between officers and enlisted men. Actually, it was a classical love-hate relationship."
"You and Farley?"
WORD OF HONOR * 221
"Me and them."
A busboy brought a wine bucket and stand, setting it beside Tyson. A sommelier approached followed by the waitress. Tyson observed to Karen Harper, "This is getting serious. "
The waitress set down two glasses and the sommelier displayed the label to Tyson. Tyson said, "I only read Scotch labels. The lady ordered the wine."
The wine steward bowed his head. "Very good, sir." He pivoted smoothly and held the bottle toward Karen Harper. "Major?"
She nodded.
He drew the cork and set it on the cocktail table in front of her, then poured a few ounces into her glass. She sipped the wine. "Fine."
"Very good, Major." He filled her glass and turned to Tyson. "Sir?" he said, with the expertise of one who recognizes an oenophobe when he sees one.
Tyson shrugged. "Good chaser for the Scotch."
The sommelier filled Tyson's glass, submerged the bottle in the bucket, bowed, and left.
The waitress lingered a moment, looking at Tyson, then glanced at Harper, and recognition dawned on her face. She said, "Can I get you anything else?"
"The bill," said Tyson.
She turned and left.
Karen Harper sipped her wine in silence.
Tyson tasted his. "Not bad. How would you describe it?"
She replied, "It has a fresh, perfurny bouquet. It is clean, well balanced, with a light frizzante and a haunting aftertaste. "
"That's just what I was thinking. " He set his glass down and said, "By the way, the waitress recognized me. Maybe you too."
She nodded. "I thought she might have."
He said, "In New York, there are waitresses and such who get paid by gossip columnists to report on newsworthy people having a t6te-A-t&e in a dark lounge."
Karen Harper seemed a bit surprised by that. "Well, I don't think-"
222 * NELSON DEMILLE
"I don't want to be here when a photographer from the American Investigator arrives." He stood.
"We could go to a pub I know in Georgetown. About five minutes' walk-"
"I'm tired of bars. Room 618, if you want to come up. Five-minute intervals, sound and light security, three knocks, password is
'lollipop'-the enemy can't say that. They say I rorripop.' Did you know that?" He nodded toward the wine bucket. "That's on the Army." He turned and left.
Ben Tyson stood at his room bar and poured a
miniature bottle of
ice and soda. He
looked around the
room. A hanging lamp
cast a soft glow over
the sitting area. The
triple-sized bed was lit
by a table lamp, and
0 Tyson switched it off,
-leaving the bed in
darkness.
There were three solid raps on the door, and he moved toward the foyer.
"Password."
After a moment of silence, he heard her say, "Ronipop.
He smiled, then opened the door.
She stood at the threshold a moment, then entered wordlessly.
He motioned her toward the couch on the far side of the room. She went to it but did not sit.
Tyson took a split of white wine from the bar refrigerator 223
224 0 NELSON DEMILLE
and filled a stem glass. He set the glass on the coffee table in front of her. "Domestic. Okay?"
She didn't reply.
Tyson took his drink to an upholstered chair opposite the couch and sat.
After a full minute of mutual silence, she said, "I really shouldn't be here."
"Neither should U'
"I have to put this in my report. I mean, where we are conducting this interview."
"You're free to leave."
She said, "I'm thinking of your interests too. You're a married man. . . ."
"That is the least of my problems. Listen, Major Karen Harper, I didn't ask for a female investigator. And I'm cooperating in this investigation. If I choose to conduct this interview in the privacy and comfort of my room, and if you're uncomfortable, we can reschedule this for another time and place.
I can't promise I'll be as talkative then, and I may have a lawyer present.-
She seemed indecisive for a moment, then sat on the couch. "Where were we?"
"Downstairs in the lounge. Farley and U' Tyson settled back in his chair.
"Yes. Farley is a paraplegic. He was badly wounded by shrapnel in the spine about two months after you left Vietnam. Did you know that?"
"I seem to remember someone writing to me about that.
He'd maintained some contact with the platoon for a few months. Then, through normal attrition--death, wounds, sickness, rotation back to the States, and transfers-there was no one left. The first platoon of Alpha Company had, like a college fraternity, metamorphosed into a different platoon, only the name remained the same-new blood in; old, tired, and dead blood out. A succession of new officers and new riflemen, who became old men if they lived longer than ninety days. Stories and myths were handed down: tales of cowardice and bravery, and the tales changed with each telling as the oral history of the platoon was transmitted like a compressed epic poem in the vernacular of the GI. He often wondered what legacy he'd left.
WORD OF HONOR 1* 225
Karen Harper broke into his thoughts. "Farley lives in Jersey City now. He spends a good deal of time in VA hospitals. He is drug-dependent and suffers from emotional disturbances. "
"Good witness for the prosecution." Tyson added, "Sorry to hear about that though."
"I spoke to him briefly by telephone. His story seems to corroborate that of Brandt.
Tyson kicked off his loafers and rubbed his feet against the thick rug.
"You can make yourself comfortable."
"I'm comfortable." She glanced around the softly fit room. "Very nice. Your company does quite well with government contracts."
"Those are not unrelated thoughts."
"No. ' I
"I worked hard to get where I am--was.
She nodded. "I didn't mean to be offensive."
"No, I don't think you did. We're from different worlds, Major. " He thought a moment, then said, "To use a lover's expression, this is not working. "
She stared at him before replying, "Let's try to make it work. "