“I don’t think much could upset her now. And she’s one tough woman. I wore the uniform, but she raised seven kids on an enlisted man’s pay, largely on her own because I was always gone. And we moved fourteen times while the kids were growing up. I wonder which one of us is the real tough one?”
“So I can speak to her?”
“Way I see it, she’s started all this. Now it has to be seen through. And he’s your daddy. You have some rights in the matter.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll make the arrangements. You can come over later this morning. It takes her a while to get going these days. Give me your phone number and I’ll call you in a bit.”
Puller did so.
As the men walked back to their cars Demirjian said, “Could you give your daddy my best next time you see him?”
“I sure will.”
“He doesn’t know about this, does he?”
“No. I’m not sure he’s in a position right now to understand it anyway.”
“Maybe that’s for the best.”
“Maybe it is,” agreed Puller.
“And I’m sure any investigation they do will clear your daddy absolutely and completely.”
As Puller climbed back into his car, he wasn’t nearly as certain of that as the old soldier was.
9
WHEN PULLER RETURNED to his motel room he called his brother. Robert Puller answered on the second ring.
“Please don’t tell me you’re investigating this,” Robert said immediately.
“Good morning to you too, big brother.”
“It’s the afternoon here. Where are you?”
“In Virginia.”
“Right. Where in Virginia? Fort Monroe, perhaps?”
“You got a satellite tracking me?”
“No, but I can have one deployed. Or I can follow the chip in your phone. Or you can save me the paperwork and the cost of the sat time and tell me yourself.”
“I just spoke to Stan Demirjian.”
“Oh, you just happened to run into him,” said Robert sarcastically.
“Actually, I did. I came down to look at our old quarters and there he was.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“I’m going to talk to his wife later today. She’s in hospice.”
“And what exactly do you expect to gain from doing that?”
“Some answers, maybe.”
“CID will have your ass if they know you’re inserting yourself into this matter.”
“They never ordered me off the case. And besides, I’m not here professionally. But it is my dad, so I don’t see why I can’t follow up on my end.”
“You know the Army doesn’t make distinctions like that. When you wear the uniform you don’t have a ‘personal’ life. It’s Army green all the way.”
“I’m still going to talk to her.”
“And she’ll tell you that she believed that Dad killed Mom. So why bother?”
“I want to hear it from her, Bobby. The letter was the watered-down version, or so Stan told me.”
“So you’re going to interrogate a terminally ill woman about events from three decades ago?”
“I’m just going to listen. And she was the one who brought it up.”
“And then what?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t really formulated a plan yet.”
“The Army might formulate one for you. As in a court-martial.”
“I haven’t disobeyed any orders because I haven’t been given any orders. I’m on leave, free to do what I want.”
“As long as you’re in uniform you are not free to do what you want. You know that!”
“Thanks for the lecture,” barked Puller.
“John, I’m just telling you to be really careful about this-”
“Let’s cut to the chase,” Puller said, interrupting. “Do you believe that Dad did it?”
“How the hell am I supposed to answer that question? I don’t know!”
“I think you suspect him.”
“What do you think?”
“I think our parents loved each other and Dad would never have laid a hand on her.”
Robert didn’t answer this right away. In fact the silence drew on for so long that Puller thought he might have disconnected.
“Bobby? Did you hear wha-”
“I heard, John.”
“And?”
“And time has a way of selecting memories we keep and memories we discard. At least for most people. The way I’m wired I remember pretty much everything as it actually happened, I guess, for better or worse.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” said Puller sharply.
“I thought it was fairly straightforward. I gotta go, John. I’ve got three-stars waiting on me. Just try not to crater your career, okay?”
The line went dead.
Puller stared down at the phone.
Selecting memories? What the hell was that about?
An hour later Stan Demirjian called. And three hours after that Puller was walking down the hall in the facility where Lynda Demirjian had come to die. A nurse escorted him.
Stan Demirjian had elected not to attend this meeting. Puller could not blame him. The old sergeant probably would have elected to try to retake Hamburger Hill over hearing his wife tell Puller his father was a murderer.
The nurse opened the door and ushered Puller in before leaving. Puller looked over at the bed. There was an IV stand and a monitoring unit and lines running from them to the shrunken form lying in the bed. The passage of three decades plus the terminal cancer had taken their toll on the woman.
Puller looked around the small room. It mirrored the one his father was currently occupying. He wondered what was worse: knowing that you were dying, or being oblivious to it?
He pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed.
“Mrs. Demirjian?”
The woman moved a bit, her head turned toward him, and her eyes opened.
“Who are you?” she said in a croaky voice.
“John Puller, Junior.”
Her eyes opened wide for a moment and then returned to slits, as though the lights overhead were too painful to fully engage.
“Last time I saw you, you were just a little boy.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Puller glanced at the bags on the IV stand and watched the liquids from them trickling through the lines terminating at a port in Demirjian’s arm. From there they went into her bloodstream. He felt sure one of them was morphine.
“You’re here…about…my letter.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“I loved Jackie very much. I respected her more than anyone I’ve ever known.”
As did most with that name Jacqueline Puller had gone by Jackie. She also physically resembled Jackie Kennedy.
“And I know she liked you.”
“I…I’m sure you aren’t happy about what I’ve done.” Her words marched slowly out of her mouth. Puller assumed that was just the way it would be with all the meds she was probably on.
“I would just like to understand it better.”
“Did you read…it?”
“I did.”
“What would you like to know?”
“You said in the letter that my parents fought a lot.”
“They did.”
“But I don’t recall any of that.”
“Do you remember when your mother would bring you and your brother over to my house?”
“Yes.”
“That was so you…wouldn’t see them fighting.”
“How do you know that?”
“Your mother would tell me.”
“But how would she know beforehand that they were going to fight?”
“Because your father was coming home from deployment. They always fought then.”
Puller leaned back in his chair. “What would they fight about?”
“Mostly, your father wanting to control every part of her life.”
Her voice had grown stronger the more she talked. She even boosted herself up a bit on her pillow.
She turned her head to the side and looked at him. “I know you don’t want to hear this. I can imagine that to you, your father walked on water.”