“Okay, troops,” the admiral said wearily. “We have a dead plebe. We have an NCIS investigation. We have lots and lots of wonderful press coverage. We have the Board of Visitors coming between now and graduation, and we have the vice president of the United States here on commissioning day to make the graduation speech. What we need now is damage control until we have some answers. Berry?”
“Sir?”
“Refresh the executive staff, in writing, about how this works when we’re under siege. One point of contact. One source of information. No sidebars with anybody. No speculation as to what happened. Rumor control within Bancroft Hall. You know the drill.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll have it out today.”
“Dee,” he said, turning to the commandant, “Let’s see if we can get inside the NCIS investigation somehow. I don’t want them spooling up any bigger deal than is necessary, and I’d really like to keep it local.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” the commandant replied, then made some notes. Jim thought Robbins hated being called Dee.
“Senior chaplain, I want to call the parents and reassure them that we’re going to find out what happened here just as quickly as we can. Set that up for me, please. And make sure they have a warm body down in Norfolk to hold their hands.”
The senior chaplain, a Navy captain, nodded and made his own notes.
“Everybody else: We’re very close to the end of the year. I’m saddened and deeply disappointed that we’ve lost a mid this close to the end. I want everyone to strike a balance, however, between handling this incident and ending the year properly so that the class of 2002 goes out with an appropriate bang. The commandant’s office will be the focal point of all incoming information on this matter. The PAO’s office will be the focal point of all outgoing information. Having the vice president here is almost as big a deal as having the president, from the standpoint of security, protocol, and logistical planning, especially after last year in New York. We want to show proper deference to the Dells’ family tragedy, while still keeping the commissioning week train on the tracks. Any questions?”
There were none, or at least none anyone wanted to put to the admiral.
“Okay, let’s get to it,” the admiral said as he got up.
Ev pushed away the remains of a microwave dinner and vowed once again never to eat another one. He pitched the plastic tray into the trash and went to answer the phone. It was Julie. Finally.
“Dad,” she said without preamble. “I think they searched my room.”
“ What? Who? And how do you know?”
“The second class in the room next door. They said they saw those two NCIS people coming out of my room with the OOD just as they were getting back from their last class. Those people who interviewed me.”
“Did they take anything?”
“Not that I can tell. Melanie’s still checking her side.” Melanie Bright was Julie’s roommate. He thought for a moment. “This may be serious, Julie. Your cell phone up? You got minutes left?”
She said she did.
“Call Liz DeWinter. Tell her what’s happened. If she’s willing to come after hours, we can meet here. I’ll drive over and get you.”
Julie called back forty-five minutes later, confirming that Liz was willing to meet right away. Ev drove over to get Julie, meeting her near the chapel. As he drove up, he saw that she was talking to another midshipman. They had their heads close together, but the mid walked away when he saw the approaching headlights.
“Who was that?” Ev asked as Julie got in.
“Tommy Hays. You remember Tommy. Classmate. Swim team. No sweat-he’s cool.”
Ev wanted to ask if they’d been talking about what was going on, but he decided not to pursue it. Ever since Joanne had died, Julie had become somewhat secretive about her social life. She gradually stopped bringing other mids home on the weekends, and sometimes took a weekend without telling him where she was going-or with whom. He was pretty sure Tommy Hays was or had been a regular. But everyone on the faculty knew that spring of first class year was a stressful time for Bancroft Hall romances. With graduation, commissioning, and first duty orders rapidly approaching, they either signed up for one of the assembly-line marriages in the chapel at the end of commissioning week or they never saw each other again as they scattered to fleet training schools all over the country. Ev drove Julie back to the house in worried silence.
Liz arrived fifteen minutes after Ev returned home with Julie. She showed up wearing designer jeans, an oversized Columbia University sweatshirt, and carrying what looked like a fat day planner. Ev heard the car in the drive and went to the porch to meet her. He could tell from her expression as she looked around that she was probably surprised by the size of the lot and the house. People who didn’t know him wondered how a Naval Academy professor could afford a place like this. She locked the Mercedes and headed for the front porch, where she saw Ev waiting for her in the lighted doorway and waved. He greeted her and led her to the spacious study, where Julie, still in her working blues, was waiting with a worried look on her face. Ev asked Liz if she’d like a drink, but she declined and turned directly to Julie. “Okay, Julie, tell me again what happened.”
Ev fixed himself a scotch while Julie talked to Liz. “And no one’s contacted you?” Liz was asking. “No official summonses to front offices?”
“Not a word. Since we talked last night, I’ve been going to classes, working out with the swim team, formation-the usual stuff. Our company officer didn’t know anything about this visit, either.”
“Or so he said.”
Julie thought about that for a moment and then shrugged. “I guess that’s possible. But when I signed out in the batt office this evening, no one seemed to care.”
Liz turned to Ev, who was sitting on the brick apron of the fireplace.
“I’ll take you up on that offer of a drink now,” she said.
“I have some single malt,” he said. “Straight up?”
“Perfect,” she said, apparently surprised that he remembered from the boat party. As he fixed her drink, she looked over at Julie. “Now that you’re a suspect, you want a drink, too?”
“What!” Julie exclaimed, her eyes widening. Ev brought Liz her drink and then sat down in one of the upholstered chairs.
“If federal police did in fact come in and search your room,” Liz said, “it means they may have a federal search warrant with your name on it. Did they go into your computer?”
“Gosh, I don’t think so, but then-”
“Right, you’d have no way of knowing.”
“Warrant?” Ev asked. “Based on what?”
“That’s the million-dollar question,” Liz said. “Until they charge her, they don’t have to tell her anything. But they must have something that implicates Julie in that plebe’s death, something more than the underwear thing.” Then she stopped. “Unless-”
“Unless what?” Ev said. Julie was sitting on the edge of her seat now, just like he was, chewing on a fingernail.
“Does the Academy have the right to search a midshipman’s room at any time? Or do they have to go through due process?”
Julie looked at Ev. “I’d have to look in the reg book,” she said. “But my guess is, they can if they want to. It’s not like a civilian school. They can inspect anytime they want to.”
“And your company officer knew nothing about this?” Ev asked.
“He failed open when I asked him,” Julie said, surprising Ev with the naval engineering expression. “He said he’d find out, but I hadn’t heard anything by evening meal hour.”
The phone rang. Ev checked the caller ID. “It’s a two-nine-three number; that’s the Academy,” he said. He picked it up and identified himself. “Yes, she is,” he said, and then listened for another minute, his eyes on Julie, who was getting a deer-in-the-headlights look back on her face.
“Very well, I’ll pass that on, Mr. Tarrens.” He glanced at his watch. “Will twenty-one hundred be satisfactory? She’s meeting with her attorney right now.” Another pause. “That’s right. So twenty-one hundred works?…Good. And could you please pass something up your chain of command for me? Midshipman Markham will want her attorney present for any further encounters with NCIS regarding the Dell incident.”