“You shouldn’t smoke so much,” Louis said.
“You shouldn’t drink so much,” Phillip replied.
Louis looked away out over the lake and then back at Phillip. He leaned against the motor home, holding the glass down at his side. They were silent for several minutes.
Louis raised his glass and drained the brandy. He looked over to see Phillip looking at him.
“It’s bad, isn’t it,” Phillip said.
Louis knew he was talking about the murders, but he didn’t know what to say in response. As much as he loved Phillip, he had never been able to share his feelings with him easily. Even now, their relationship ripened as it was to adult status, he couldn’t bring himself to open a vein and let his fear bleed out for Phillip to see.
“It’s hard on the nerves,” Louis said. “But we’ll get him. I know we will.” He paused. “They put me in charge of the investigation,” he added, a touch of pride in his voice.
“A promotion already?” Phillip asked.
“Not really. Peter Principle more like it.”
“So, have you found anything yet?”
Louis told him about the piece of fabric and the other tenuous clues. He told him about the watch experiment and his theory about the timing of the two murders. Before he realized what was happening, he was spilling out all the details of the case, including his doubts about Jesse’s stability. It felt good. He needed to talk to someone outside the department. And as much as he had wanted to he couldn’t share it with Zoe.
Phillip listened attentively. Finally, Louis stopped, noticing that Phillip was standing awkwardly, a slight grimace on his face.
“Something wrong?” Louis asked.
Phillip rubbed his thigh. “Cold makes the leg hurt, that’s all.”
“You want to go in?”
“Soon as I finish this butt.”
Louis watched Phillip as he rubbed his leg again, holding the cigarette between his teeth. Another teenage memory bubbled up into his head, the first time he had seen the long scars on Phillip’s leg. Phillip had told him how he had gotten the wound in the Korean War, how the doctor had saved his leg, but left him with a lifelong limp. It was Louis’s first indication that the man who had become the most important figure in his life was truly human, less than a god. Not long after that, Phillip had opened a trunk in the attic and shown him his souvenirs from the war. Louis remembered the uniform patch that had caught his eye. It was a soaring eagle on the red background with the words SILVER EAGLES and the numbers of Phillip’s company on it. He had let Louis keep the patch. Louis lost it somewhere years ago. He never told Phillip.
Louis straightened up off the motorhome. Something stirred in his brain, a connection being made.
“Phillip, you remember that patch you gave me?”
“What patch?”
“The one from your uniform,” Louis said. “The eagle?”
“Oh, yeah. What’d you do with it, by the way?”
Louis felt a surge of excitement. God, the human brain was strange, its synapses firing out to make bridges when you were least expecting it. He was thinking of the cloth they had found on the fence by the park, dark green, like army fatigues.
“Platoons, military units, they all had names like that and numbers?” Louis asked.
“Some,” Phillip answered. “Why do you ask?”
“It could be related to one of the things I’m trying to track down in this case,” Louis said. “The killer leaves this clue, a drawing of a skull and the numbers ‘1 2 3.’ Does it mean anything? Could it be military?”
Phillip shrugged. “Maybe. The emblems were unofficial, something the guys created themselves.”
“What about on a playing card?”
“Hell, yes. We bought them at the PX, carried them everywhere.” He smiled. “I lost a month’s pay in Seoul trying to pull an inside straight.”
Louis’s mind was racing. Could it be that simple? Could it be some sort of military symbol? He had to find someone who knew about the military and what the numbers might mean. Was it a company, a squadron? And which war? It could -
“Louis?”
For a second, Phillip’s voice didn’t register. When Phillip repeated his name, Louis looked up at him. He saw the concern in Phillip’s face.
“It’s all right, Phil,” Louis said quietly.
“I’m worried about you,” Phillip said.
“I’m being careful.”
Phillip looked at him for a long time then took a final deep drag on his cigarette.
Louis watched the cigarette glow. He was struck suddenly by how different Phillip’s way of smoking was from Gibralter’s. Phillip’s style was deliberate, almost sensual, as though he was surrendering. Gibralter attacked the tobacco, as if he knew it was the enemy.
“My chief smokes unfiltered Camels,” Louis said.
“A real man’s smoke,” Phillip said with a dry smile.
Louis smiled. “Well, that’s Gibralter. A real man.”
“You like him?”
“Well, he’s not exactly likeable. He’s an enigma. Ego the size of Lake Michigan. Smart, strict. Probably ex-Marine and probably over-educated for the job.”
“Over-educated. Sounds like somebody else I know,” Phillip said with a small smile.
Louis let the remark pass.
“Your chief,” Phillip said after a moment, “is he the kind who takes care of his men?”
Louis frowned slightly, unsure of what Phillip was asking. “He’s a very dedicated cop,” he answered finally.
“But to what?” Phillip said. “Police departments are a lot like the military, Louis. The men who run them understand that sometimes there must be casualties.”
Louis knew where Phillip was going with this and he tensed.
“This man Gibralter, is he taking care of his men?”
“There’s not much he can do. We have to do our job.”
Phillip paused. He tossed the cigarette into the snow. It fizzed and died.
“I had a C.O.,” Phillip said. “His name was Cliff McInerney. We called him Captain Mac. We were driving north near Yongsan and ran into heavy fire.”
“Is that where you were wounded?” Louis asked.
Phillip nodded. “We were pinned down for two days. Lost three men. Finally, Captain Mac decided he wasn’t going to wait any longer and tried to get us out. He led our squad through heavy fire. At one point he went back, running across this open field to rescue Hooper who went down in a trench. I thought he was nuts.”
Phillip looked at Louis. “Maybe he was. But he got us out of there when we were all sure we were going to die.”
“What happened to him?” Louis asked.
“He was killed. We were walking through the village. A grenade came out of nowhere. He jumped on it to protect two men walking ahead.”
Louis watched the subtle shift of emotions play over Phillip’s face.
“A leader believes in himself,” Phillip said. “But more important, he gives others the courage to believe in themselves.”
Louis lifted the empty glass and looked at it, suddenly wishing there was more in it.
Phillip gently took the glass from his hand then suddenly grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him close.
“Please be careful, Louis,” he said.
CHAPTER 13
The sky was the color of sheet metal. Louis looked out at the low-lying clouds then reached down and turned the cruiser’s heater up another notch.
“Smells like it’s gonna snow again,” Jesse said.
“Which is why I wanted to get an earlier start,” Louis said grimly.
Jesse sighed. “I told you, man, we already talked to these assholes.”
“You didn’t show them the card. Maybe they know something.”
“Trust me, they’re a bunch of burn-outs. They don’t know what year it is.”
“I thought you’d be glad to get away from the damn case files for a while.”