Hayes locked his gaze back on Paul. "But I'm captain of this ship. One of my sailors died. And, if your suspicions are right, at least one of my crew lied or falsified evidence. I have to be able to trust my crew, Mr. Sinclair." He sat down slowly, then gave Paul a sidelong look. "You and Petty Officer Sharpe keep looking. Quietly. Have you ever gone hunting, Mr. Sinclair?"
"Uh, no, sir. Not really."
"The first rule is not to make a lot of noise or fuss. Because if you do, whatever you're hunting is going to hide. So you don't make a lot of noise, Mr. Sinclair. Keep it quiet. Check out these things that don't add up. If it turns out to be nothing, or nothing you can substantiate, I want you to tell me that as soon as you're comfortable with that conclusion. If you find something more, I want to know that, too."
"And if anyone questions what I'm doing, sir?"
"Refer them to me. That's not a blank check. Act with discretion and forethought. If I hear you're running around like a loose cannon, I'll come down on you like a ton of bricks and you'll wish you'd never started this. Comprende? "
"Yes, sir."
"But if you're on the track of something important, I'll back you." Hayes smiled without humor. "Here's your chance to prove the quality of your professional judgment, Mr. Sinclair."
And if I'm wrong, the chance to drop-kick my career out of the nearest airlock. "Yes, sir."
"If you're right, if you find that evidence, then we'll make noise, Mr. Sinclair. We'll flush our prey and nail him or her to the bulkhead." Hayes' face flushed slightly, his mouth a thin, tight line. "Accidents happen. They're an ugly fact of life. But if someone caused this one, and if someone covered up their involvement, I want that someone off my ship and preferably out of the Navy."
Paul simply nodded back, unsure of the proper reply.
Hayes used one hand to indicate the hatch. "If that's all, Mr. Sinclair, we both have plenty of other things to do." He paused, causing Paul to hesitate in mid-reach for the hatch handle. "Quite frankly, I don't know whether I want you to be right or wrong about this."
"Sir, quite frankly, I don't know which I'd prefer, either."
Chapter Eight
Paul hadn't been in Forward Engineering since the night of the fire. It had changed a great deal since then. Once the investigators had gone over it carefully in search of evidence, the repair work had begun. Equipment damaged by the explosion, the fire, or the water used to put out the fire, had all been evaluated for repair or replacement. Wiring, cabling, control panels, ventilation, all the systems that made up the nerves and lungs of that compartment, were pulled or blocked off for replacement. The bulkheads, the deck and every other surface had been scrubbed clean of debris and tested for damage. During most hours of the day, the compartment resounded with a bedlam of work designed to get the USS Michaelson operational again as soon as possible. Right now, late at night, Forward Engineering was temporarily quiet and empty, except for Paul and his companion.
Paul glanced around. Even though the compartment had been cleaned and most of the damaged equipment removed, he still found himself uneasy. Something clattered off to one side where shipyard workers had been replacing damaged equipment, causing Paul to jerk around nervously. He reached the spot where he'd found Chief Asher's remains and stopped, staring downward.
"What's this about?" Colleen Kilgary asked. "Why'd you want me to meet you down here?"
Paul tore his eyes away from the spot and looked at her. "You were the main propulsion assistant on the ship until Scott Silver took over the job. I was wondering if you could help me with something."
Lieutenant Kilgary shrugged. "I couldn't help the investigation much, not that they asked me."
"Chief Asher's body was here, meaning he probably was working on something not too far away. The investigators reported the explosion occurred in the power transfer junction."
Kilgary pointed to an empty area nearby. "Yeah. That'd be here."
"Could Chief Asher have been working on that?"
"Alone? That wouldn't be like Chief Asher."
"Why not?"
"Because of the interlocks. The only way to work on stuff like the power transfer junction is to use two people, one to monitor the safeties and the other to do the job."
"So it's impossible with one person?"
"It's not impossible. You just have to shut-off the interlocks, which shuts down the safety monitors, which shuts down the fire — " Kilgary scowled. "The fire suppression systems."
"Asher could've done that?"
"No! He wasn't like that. But, yes, in theory somebody could've shut off all that stuff in order to work on something like the power transfer junction single-handed." She walked over to the spot the piece of equipment had occupied. "But it didn't need work, Paul. It wasn't on the casualty reporting system."
"You checked?"
"Of course I checked." Kilgary folded her arms, staring around with a stubborn expression. "I leave and within a month the leading chief dies and a major fire occurs. Of course I checked."
"I'm really sorry, Colleen."
"Why should you be sorry? You didn't do it, despite what that damned investigation says."
Paul nodded gratefully. "What would've happened if somebody did shut down all those interlocks? Wouldn't you get an alarm?"
"No." Kilgary gestured toward the general direction of Damage Control Central. "Not if whoever shut it down used the right authorization codes. But it would show up in the engineering logs." She bit her lower lip. "If they weren't damaged."
"I know the bridge logs don't get reviewed very often. Too much data and detail. They just get filed. Is that what happens to the engineering logs?"
"Yeah. Unless something happens." She looked at Paul. "This all adds up in a very strange way. But I don't see why Chief Asher would've done such a thing."
"I don't know why he would've either."
"Do you think he damaged the engineering logs somehow?"
"No. No, that's one thing I'm certain of. He had nothing to do with that." Paul followed as Lieutenant Kilgary led the way out of Forward Engineering. Something pinged behind him, and Paul whirled around quickly to stare into the empty compartment.
Kilgary followed Paul's gaze. "Probably just a loose screw dislodged by the vibration of us walking past. Contractors tend to leave screws lying around."
"Yeah. Probably." But he was grateful when they'd left the compartment behind. There are too many ghosts on this ship for my comfort.
And there it sat. A week later, Paul was still trying to put the pieces together. Who can I talk to about this? Sharpe and I have gone over it time and again and can't find anything else. Jen'd be great, but she won't be back for another two months. And I can't just blab about this to any of the other junior officers. Who's that leave?
Put that way, the answer was easy.
"Commander Sykes, sir? Can I talk to you in confidence?"
Sykes raised his eyebrows in apparent surprise. "Not just 'Suppo,' eh? I'm 'Commander Sykes.' This must be quite serious."
"I can't talk to you unless you promise to keep it confidential, sir."
"My dear boy, I'd be happy to so promise, but you understand if the talk involves issues of criminal acts I won't necessarily feel bound by such a promise."
"I understand." Paul sat close to Sykes. "Sir, here's the problem." He outlined events as concisely as he could. "And that's where it sits. Somebody wiped the logs on purpose. Chief Asher could've been working on the power transfer junction, but only if he'd gone against grain and shut off the interlocks, and there's no indication anything was wrong with the power transfer junction to begin with."
"Hmmm." Sykes sat silent for a few minutes. "This is an ill matter, Mr. Sinclair. Are you thinking someone may have killed Chief Asher deliberately?"