::  Murder In Baltimore  ::

Chapter Thirteen

Victor lay on the narrow cot. It was after lights out and he lay staring at the ceiling. When he had come back from his interview with Chegwidden, he had been led back to his cell and Jimmy across the way must have been feeling better from his run in with the Gunnery Sergeant that morning because he had begun taunting him again. He ignored the little man until Jimmy had finally given up. But now in the dark, images brought up by the man’s digs and jabs started to haunt him. He knew in his heart that he had not killed Sherilee but it bothered him that he couldn’t remember anything of the night before. He tossed and turned for a while and then in an effort to tire himself out, got out of the cot, got down on the floor and started to do pushups. He did 100 and then lay on his back and began doing sit-ups. Halfway through his rep, he looked up and saw that the newcomer standing in his cell staring at him. He ignored him until he had done 100 sit-ups and then he got back up. The exercise hadn’t really winded him, but his breathing had increased to a light pant.

As he got up and walked to the sink to get a drink of water he heard a deep rumble from behind him, "You showing off, tough guy?"

Gunny slowly turned around. He gazed as the man for a long time, trying to get a feel for this possible adversary. Keeping all braggadocio from his voice he replied. "No, just working off a little energy. Why does it look like I was showing off?" The large man returned his look, gave him that same mirthless grin and dropped and counted off 125 pushups and then rolled and counted off 125 sit-ups.

Gunny looked at him and then said dryly, "Let me guess, you were in the Navy."

The man threw back his head and laughed, "Yeah, I served on a submarine."

Victor let a small grin of approval show on his face, just before they heard, "Quiet down there." Victor walked back to his cot and lay back down. The newcomer came to stand by the bars and stare down at him. Victor met his gaze and the man slowly turned and went back to his own cot.

Just as Victor allowed his eyes to close he heard a soft rumble from his neighbor’s cell, "So Galindez, you do it?" Victor had been waiting for the question all day. He and the Admiral had figured that the man was a plant, but he hadn’t really expected the question to be so blatant. He never opened his eyes, but he responded with,

"Sorry, Mom told me never to talk to strangers."

That remark was met by a low chuckle, followed by, "Name’s Jake."

"Well Jake, since we are such good friends now I can tell you the truth." Victor replied lightly.

"So?"

"No. Goodnight Jake."

He woke with a start. This dream hadn’t been as graphic as last night’s. But it was more disturbing. He tried to think of what the blond meant. Had he seen her that night? But as he lay there trying to etch her features in his head, he slowly nodded back off to sleep.

The dawn light woke him the next morning and he sat up and stretched and decided that he would not use his incarceration as an excuse to get out of shape. He rolled out of bed and did another 100 push ups and 100 sit-ups. He then sat and waited to be taken with the rest of the men to the shower room. This morning was more subdued than yesterday and even Jimmy left him alone. He noticed that Jake kept his eyes on him the whole time though. Victor spared a minute to contemplate exactly what Jake’s game was. If he was a plant then he was either clumsy or very good. When Jake had asked him outright last night if he had killed Sherilee, Victor had gotten the fleeting impression that he had only asked because Victor had been waiting for the question. After breakfast, Victor settled back to read another couple of chapters of Clancy. He was afraid that he would finish both books too soon and he was loath to ask for more. The Admiral had already done more for him than he could ever repay and Victor could not stand being so in debt to another.

He also knew that he had to write his parents, before they found out about the murder, if indeed they didn’t already know. He knew that his father would be deeply disappointed and his mother would weep; but he also knew that neither would believe that he could have done the horrible crime. He forced himself to slowly read the two chapters he had allowed himself for this morning.

A few blocks away that morning, Lt. Anderson called Grayson and O’Brien into his office. He handed Grayson a file to look at. Grayson scanned it quickly and stared at Anderson. Anderson pointedly waiting until Grayson sulkily handed the file to O’Brien to read also. When O’Brien was finished, she waited patiently for Grayson to take the lead, like she always allowed him to do.

"So we got a hooker shot down by the docks. You want us to work it?" His tone was insolent and O’Brien looked at him in surprise. There was talk around the squad that Grayson didn’t like the new lieutenant, but he had never said anything to her. Of course, she realized that he never said much to her one way or the other.

"Yeah Grayson, it’s what we do here." Anderson had also heard the same things and he really didn’t care, because he didn’t like Grayson too much either. It was a shame about O’Brien though. She seemed pretty sharp. He wondered if there was something going on between the two of them.

Grayson shot him a look and stood up. "Yeah it’s what WE do here. Come on O’Brien." Bridget followed him out the door and to his desk. She waited patiently for him to tell her exactly what he wanted to do. When he reached his desk, he handed her the report and said, "Go down to the morgue and get the M.E.’s preliminary findings. See if you can get an ID on her. Check the missing person files if there is no ID and then go talk to the guys that took the original call." He had grabbed his coat and started to walk away.

Bridget looked at him in surprise and said, "Hey what about you? Where are you going?"

Grayson turned back and growled at her, "I got people I gotta see."

Bridget said meekly, "You need backup?"

Grayson didn’t even bother to answer. As he left the bullpen and stomped down the stairs, Bridget sighed, sat down and reached for the phone.

Six hours later, she had a name and picture from an old arrest file and still no partner. She left him a message on his voice mail telling him she was calling it quits for the day and went home. A vague idea working at the back of her mind.

::  Chapter 14  ::

The night before, AJ had gotten back to McLean around 2330. The temperature had dropped to right around freezing but he had known he needed to work off some of his tension if he was going to get any sleep at all. So he had gotten into his heavy sweats and went for a quick three mile run. Forty-five minutes later he was back, in a sweat, his breathing rapid and an idea niggling around in his head. He had showered and gone to bed and the next thing he had known the sun was shining in through his bedroom window. He had gotten out of bed and stretched and realized that he felt better than he had in the past three days. He quickly made coffee and then went in and shaved and got dressed in his uniform. He stopped for a moment and studied himself in his mirror and allowed a plan to finish working itself out in his mind.

He went to his closet and pulled out a small suitcase and opened it on the bed. He then went to the large wardrobe in the corner and found a pair of black jeans that Sydney had insisted that he buy. He hadn’t liked them much, but they fit okay so he put them in the bag and then looked again through the wardrobe until he had found a black, long sleeved turtleneck and placed that on top of the jeans. He then left his bedroom and walked into the kitchen, poured a cup of coffee headed for the den. He walked over to the gun cabinet, opened it and pulled out a 9mm SIG Sauer. He checked the clip to make sure that it was full. He walked back to the coat closet and rummaged until he had found his well-worn black boots. Taking gun and boots back to the bedroom, he placed them in the small suitcase, shut it and carried it back to the front door. He thought that he would have to make do with his topcoat, then a sad smile creased his face. He returned to the hall closet, this time lost in a memory. It had been such an extravagant gift. He had tried to get her to return it, but she had insisted and he remembered that her stubborn streak had been as wide as his own and in the end she had made him agree that he needed something ‘nice’ to wear with his casual clothes. One week later, Laura Delaney was dead. He hadn’t worn the long, soft black leather coat since. But tonight he knew it would be perfect. He removed it from its wooden hanger and threw it gently over the back of the chair. He then donned his military topcoat, grabbed the small case, his brief case, the leather coat and struggled out the front door.

He had made it into the office in record time, arriving just as Mac’s ‘vette pulled in ahead of him. They exited their vehicles at the same time and met at the base of the front stairs.

"Morning, Colonel."

"Morning, Sir."

They rode in comfortable silence up the elevator, each lost in their own early morning thoughts; she of a certain tousled-hair spy, he of what he planned to do that night. As they left the elevator and entered the bullpen, they both heard a yelp of feminine laughter coming from the kitchen. They exchanged questioning looks and went towards the sound. As they approached, they heard Harmon Rabb say in a joking, light-hearted voice, "No way! You never said that." Mac preceded AJ into the room in time to hear Kate Pike giggle and respond, "Oh yeah! I did and .." Kate was the first to notice AJ watching them and she came to attention. Harm turned in response to Kate’s action and his eyes locked on Mac.

AJ noticed the sudden tension and said, "At ease Commanders." He watched Harm watching Mac and was already beginning to be sorry that the Commander had returned when he saw Harm come to some kind of decision within himself.

"Hey Mac, I see you are really getting the overtime." It was the first teasing remark AJ could remember Rabb making to MacKenzie since ‘the incident’ and he felt the tension melt away.

AJ could almost hear the relief in Mac’s voice as she responded, "Well Harm, somebody had to hold down the fort while you were out basking in sunny New Mexico." While her remark had let him know things were getting back to normal, it also brought home the reason why they were all there on such a rare beautiful day for November.

"Well Commanders, if you will excuse us for about a half-hour, Colonel MacKenzie and I need to go over something. Rabb, I will need you to be prepared to go to Baltimore. You up for it this afternoon?" AJ was in full Admiral mode and Rabb snapped to attention,

"Yes, Sir."

AJ ushered Mac into his office. Her review this year was much more straightforward than the previous year and they were done in record time. After they had both signed off on the paperwork, AJ stood and said, "Let’s get another cup of coffee. You go get Rabb and lets hear what he has to say."

They exited his office and Mac went down the hall to find her former partner and it seemed again, still friend. She found him at his desk going through his e-mail. She watched him for a moment and hoped that they could keep up the tenuous friendliness that they had begun. "Hey flyboy, anything interesting?"

He glanced up and a strand of hair fell across his forehead and for the first time in ages Sarah realized that her heart didn’t beat a little quicker when it did. She could never figure out why Harm had never made a serious pass at her, but she no longer concerned herself with his motivations. She had truly moved on. "Hey jarhead, same old, same old. A couple of invitations for the holidays, that sort of thing. How you doin’?"

She gave him a radiant smile and replied softly, "I’m getting there." He cocked his eyebrow at her cryptic response, but she merely said, "Admiral’s ready for us now." They walked back towards the Admiral’s office, Mac just a little more comfortable than he.

The door was standing open to his office, and AJ was sitting behind his desk, with a fresh cup of coffee in front of him. Sarah tapped on the door as they passed through and at his "have a seat," they both sat Rabb on the right and she on the left. AJ looked at Rabb for a minute before saying, "What have you got for me Commander?"

Harmon Rabb sat back in his chair and began his story; "Well Sir it appears that Sherilee Cloud had a rather familiar upbringing. She was born to one Hester Cloud on February 18^th 1970 in Taos. The birth certificate doesn’t name the father and no one I talked to had a clue as to who he was. There is nothing to indicate that Hester ever got more than 10 miles from Taos or that once she left school ever breathed a sober breath until her final hospital stay in 1985. Sherilee’s aunt Willa tried to help raise the child, according to neighbors, but by the time the girl was in high school she was already pretty wild, hanging with the wrong crowd, getting into trouble; shoplifting, minor drug problems, that sort of thing." Rabb had been checking a small notebook and he occasionally looked up to make eye contact with either AJ or Mac. He continued, "There was some gossip about just how she managed to graduate from high school" he looked at AJ "Miss Henderson at Taos High School was most forthcoming with gossip. It seems she was a new counselor at the high school, fresh out of college and eager to help young Miss Cloud." Rabb smiled sourly and continued, "According to Miss Henderson it took all of 3 months of to turn her from a wide eyed innocent to a hard-case; Miss Henderson not Ms. Cloud." AJ grunted and signaled Rabb to continue. "According to Miss Henderson, Sherilee was getting straight F’s her senior year, but she was real popular at school, especially with the boys. It appears that Ms. Cloud managed to get particularly close to the senior class advisor and all of a sudden her grade in English, the advisor’s class, went from an F to a C after a good paper was turned in."

Sarah interjected, "On the basis of one paper?" Both AJ and Rabb looked at her and she colored slightly and sat back, but asked, "Was there a scandal at least?"

Rabb grinned that boyish grin that used to melt her heart and said, "According to Miss Henderson there was a lot of talk, but then she started getting slightly better grades in three of her other classes and she was able to squeak by. Miss Henderson contends that Sherilee blackmailed the principal by telling him that if he didn’t pass her she would bring charges against the senior advisor. They got her out and kept it all quiet. Sir I think the reason that Miss Henderson remembers it all so clearly is at least from my impression, that Miss Henderson was rather sweet on the advisor herself. She’s carried a grudge for over 10 years, but other people bear out her story." Rabb took a breath and studied his notes, for a few minutes before he continued,

"After graduation, Sherilee got a job at the movie theater selling tickets and a second job at a small clothing store. After Walmart moved in, the clothing store closed but she moved out to the Walmart. Seems she moved up fairly quickly," Rabb looked at AJ over the top of his notes, "Seems like a repeat of the high school incident, the store manager had taken a liking to her. But there was some trouble. It appears that there were some questions about ‘back door discounts.’ There was a bit of a stink that actually made the local papers and the personnel records. There were no arrests but, the store manager lost his job and according to several current employees who were working there at the time, the store manager’s wife filed for divorce."

"When in the time-line to meeting Galindez is this?" AJ asked looking over his reading glasses at Rabb.

"Well sir, Galindez left the Marines in 1989 and this incident happened in 1988. Sherilee was also fired from Walmart and with the stink and all, the only job that she could get after that was at a bar called the ‘Pony Express’. She was working there when Victor returned home on leave in the fall of 1988, but when he left the Corps; she was ‘between jobs’. She didn’t work all the while she was living with Galindez. Gunny rejoined in the early spring of 1990 and she went back to working at the bar in mid-summer of 1990. I checked to find out about Caesar Rocha but it appears that Mr. Rocha left Taos in 1992. There is no arrest record for him and I have asked Bud to check for his whereabouts." Rabb sighed deeply before he continued, "Sherilee was first picked up for solicitation late in 1991. She had three misdemeanor drug busts and five more solicitation busts before she left town in 1995." Rabb closed his notebook and stood up and started to pace, the whole investigation in Taos had left a nasty taste in is mouth. He turned back to AJ not wanting to look at Mac but knowing he couldn’t shield her from the ugly facts, "Sir, I talked to a couple of bartenders that remember her and two guys that actually, uhm, well, utilized her services. They all said she liked it rough and kinky. And she tried a couple of times to blackmail her, uhm, her customers. Evidently the last customer she tried that on was the wrong guy and she had to leave town or risk getting killed."

AJ perked up at that bit of news, "Whom did she try to blackmail?"

Rabb gave a quiet embarrassed grin, "It seems like this guy had come to town and was looking for somebody just like Sherilee, only he didn’t know she had a camera set up. But then, Sherilee learned the hard way that there were meaner sharks out there than she was. Turned out the guy she tried to blackmail was one Thomas J. Agurra."

Sarah had been leaning forward in her chair, her arms folded across her crossed legs. When she heard the name, she whistled and flopped back in her chair. "THE Tommy Agurra? ‘Big Tommy’ Agurra? Damn, it almost makes you feel sorry for her. But if she tried to blackmail him, how come she was still alive until two weeks ago."

Rabb grinned even bigger this time as he answered her; "Well it seems that he did track her down in Chicago. But, according to a friend of mine at the FBI field office there, it seems that ‘Big Tommy’ made her an offer she couldn’t refuse." His ‘New York Mob’ accent was atrocious and Mac gave him the groan it deserved. AJ was anxious to have Rabb continue his story, but was so glad that the bantering was back between his two best lawyers that he bit his tongue. Rabb, sensing his boss’s mood straightened and came back and sat down. He leaned forward, which prompted Mac and AJ to do the same. The tableau looked like three conspirators plotting. Rabb dropped his voice dramatically "It appears there was a rival that had an eye for dark-haired beauties. ‘Big Tommy’ made sure that Sherilee got an introduction and two weeks later, the rival was found in his hotel room, cut up really bad."

AJ sat back and tented his hands in a speculative prayer. "Was Sherilee implicated?"

Rabb nodded, "According to Mike James out in Chicago, there is or was a standing warrant open for Sherilee for questioning in the case. But then Justice got Agurra for racketeering two, three years ago and since the rival was a real dirt bag anyway and since Sherilee was nowhere to be found, in Chicago at least, they just kept her on their data base."

AJ frowned and looked at Mac. "Colonel, you read the files, how many times was Sherilee arrested in Baltimore."

Mac returned the look and said, "Only twice, Sir and that was in 1997 and early 1998, I think.

"That’s what I remember too." He tapped his fingers together, unlaced them, drummed on his desk for a minute then looked at both Mac and Rabb again, before continuing, "From everything I’ve read and from what Grayson and Anderson said, she was a known whore and drug abuser. Why wasn’t she arrested for the past two, almost three years?"

Mac and Rabb exchanged glances again and Mac signaled Rabb that he could make the obvious remark, "Well Admiral," Rabb began, "she was either very lucky." He waited for the snort that he knew the Admiral would make before continuing, "or she had a benefactor."

AJ sighed and merely said, "Yeah, looks like." He stood and walked to his window and looked out on the bright November morning. "Commander, Colonel MacKenzie has the names of three people I need you to check out for me. They all say they saw Gunnery Sergeant Galindez at the murder site on the afternoon in question." AJ turned, "Gunny says he cannot remember what happened on Saturday night, but he is certain he was home in bed during the murder. I want you to talk to these people and get back to me with your report." AJ picked up the report on his desk and handed it to Rabb.

Harm flipped through to the page tagged with a small red flag with ‘witnesses’ written on it in Bud’s neat, readable script. He looked at the three names and then took a pen from his inside coat pocket and began to write down the pertinent information. When he was finished, he closed the report and gave it back to Mac. She held on to it tightly and then took a deep breath and stood to attention and said, "Sir, request permission to back Commander Rabb up."

AJ looked at her and said, "Colonel we have discussed this, I need you to finish up the Laughlin case and be prepared to go to Norfolk on Monday for me. Do you have time to back up Commander Rabb and still get all the paperwork done?" Sarah knew that there was plenty of work to be done, but she didn’t want to let it go.

"Sir, Commander Rabb is going to need some kind of backup when he talks to the gang-banger ‘Tino’. He can’t go into a gang zone alone." Rabb looked at the Admiral as if to say, ‘There is no way, I’m telling her she can’t go.’

"I’ll back up the Commander." The quiet voice had none of its usual smug sound to it. All three heads jerked back to the open doorway. Clayton Webb stood lounging against the door jam. The jeans of the night before were no longer in evidence and he was in one of his signature three-piece suits. Rabb who had no knowledge of the cryptic e-mail, just looked at Webb with a questioning look.

"Slumming Webb?" he snorted. Webb straightened and walked into the room.

"You want the back up or not?" The voice was quiet, but AJ sensed a tension under it and strove to intervene.

"Did you find out anything further?" he asked sharply.

Rabb turned an astonished look on the Admiral, "Sir, since when does the CIA get involved with a local murder case?"

AJ looked to Webb who shrugged his approval, "Since we got some information about the case through an e-mail that appears to have originated from the Director of the CIA’s office. Which he denies sending as vehemently as you did a year ago."

Rabb turned his eyes back and his eyebrows met his hairline before replying, "Hell, Webb you can back me up just so I can hear the story."

Webb put his hands on his hips and glared at Rabb but caught the look that Sarah was giving him. Not Rabb, but him. It was full of concern and he could swear that at least some of the concern was directed at him. He sighed and forced his gaze away from her and looked at Rabb, "Lets go then," and he turned to leave the room.

AJ snapped, "I asked you a question Mr. Webb."

Without turning back, Webb said in a steely voice, "No, we are still trying to figure out how they broke the code. You coming Rabb?"

AJ stopped Rabb with, "Call the house tomorrow around 1000 and give me a report. I have something I have to do tonight." Rabb nodded and turned to follow Webb out of the building.

::  Chapter 15  ::

It was almost 1400 before AJ and Mac had finished up what they had to do so she would be prepared to make the meeting in Norfolk. She had decided to take the rest of the caseload home with her. She had invited Kate Pike to grab her stuff and they could share her kitchen table and dinner. That way Mac could be available to answer any questions Pike might have concerning the two cases that Mac had started and Kate was finishing for her.

AJ watched them leave and was glad he didn’t have to face her questions when she saw the way he was going to be dressed. He quickly called the jail and made sure that there would be no problem seeing his client late on Saturday afternoon but his next phone call revealed that there were no judges available to accept his paperwork requesting permission for a Naval Pathologist to review the coroner’s findings. He then went to his private bathroom to change. Twenty minutes later he was strolling through the office dressed all in black. The black jeans hung from his hips and the black turtleneck fit snugly across his chest. He never considered himself to be a vain man, but he knew that at 52 he still looked good. He quickly donned the black leather coat that came down to slightly below mid calf and walked toward the elevator. Just as he reached for the call button, the elevator dinged, the doors opened and Bud Roberts, dressed in casual slacks, sweater and wool pea coat, stepped out into the hallway. Bud was startled at seeing a stranger standing there before him, but even more surprised when he realized that Rear Admiral AJ Chegwidden was the stranger. "Sir?"

"Early date." AJ lied and jumped into the elevator. Just as they were about to close he grabbed the doors and held them open and asked, "Lieutenant, what the hell are you doing here on a Saturday afternoon?"

Still to stunned at his boss’s appearance he stuttered, "I, I, I just ran up to get a case file to look at tomorrow, Harriet and little AJ are downstairs in the van waiting for me."

Mollified, AJ nodded let the doors close and proceeded to the parking lot. When he exited the building he saw that Harriet was bent over the seat, keeping her son occupied. He walked quickly to his car, got in and backed away. Harriet was always just a little more astute than her husband about personal things and he knew that she would have questioned him further.

A little over an hour later, he was pulling up to the jail. He found a parking place on the street, exited the SUV, locked the door and ran up the stairs. He gave his name and waited in the interview room for twenty minutes before they brought Galindez out. AJ thought that the man looked tired but refrained from calling this to Victor’s attention.

Galindez has been surprised when the guard had come by and told him that his lawyer was back. He hadn’t expected anyone to come by to see him at all during the weekend. He sat across from the Admiral, cleared his throat and asked, "Sir, has something happened? Uhm, why are you dressed like that?"

AJ, cocked his eyebrow at him and chose to ignore the last statement and said in a tight voice, "Master Sergeant London, told me all about Saturday night Gunny." He waited to see what this would elicit but was surprised when Gunny said,

"We were in Baltimore weren’t we?" His voice was very low, but AJ heard it perfectly.

"You asking or telling me Mister?" AJ snapped.

"I figured by the look on your face that you thought I was holding something back from you, Sir. I couldn’t imagine anything else it could be. But Admiral, Sir, I swear I don’t remember being here. In Baltimore I mean." He sighed and decided to give the Admiral what he had. "I had a dream last night. Nothing definite, but there was a blond in it, and a weird bar with loud noise and," he gulped before he continued, "and dancing and everybody was." He paused and studied the Admiral carefully, pulled back and looked down around the table and then back up into AJ eyes. "Everybody was wearing black, just like you sir. Do you know where we were? Are you going to go there?"

AJ sighed. Galindez wasn’t stupid that was for certain. "I thought I check out a couple of things while I was here, but, I need you to try and describe this mysterious blond to me."

Galindez arched away from the table, stretching his neck as far back as it would go and contemplated the ceiling before answering. He brought his head back down and regarded AJ for a moment and then said, "All I can remember is the noise and the bar was huge with brick walls, but I can’t get a good handle on it. The girl was blond and she had dark eyes, but I’m not sure of what color. The only thing I do remember is that her incisors were filed down to points."

AJ sighed, "Not a lot of help there, Galindez. How about the house you went to that afternoon a month ago you remember anything else about that?"

Galindez looked embarrassed, he really hadn’t thought much more on that aspect of the case and shook his head before answering, "I pretty sure it was Scott Street sir. When I close my eyes I would swear that it was two or three doors down from the park, but that’s about it. I am sure that it had that gargoyle though.

"Terrific." AJ was disgusted but he regarded his client one more time. "You have any problems up here?"

"Nothing I can’t handle, Sir." Galindez returned his gaze calmly.

AJ snorted and said, "Don’t keep anything from me Galindez. I come in here and find you beaten to a pulp or something, you are going to be one sorry Marine when I get you out of here."

Galindez smiled ruefully, before he replied, "I know, Sir. I’m fine." AJ nodded and stood, the guard came in to escort him out.

Ten minutes later, AJ stood on the steps just outside the front door to the jail, deep in thought. He knew what he wanted to accomplish and he knew that it was way too early to go to The Depot. Just as he started down the steps to drive down to Scott Street to see what he could find, his sixth sense born in the jungles of Viet Nam all those year ago and honed throughout his Naval career alerted him to the fact that someone was watching him. He continued down the steps and went to his vehicle and cursed the days when shiny chrome bumpers when out of style. He casually looked around, as if to get his bearings but saw no one. He walked to his door and scanned the street, but he saw nothing suspicious. He unlocked the car door and got in and did another scan but whoever was watching him was good. He thought that he might be able to tell when he got on the road, but he noticed none of the cars pulling out after him and he could make out nothing as he drove through the streets of Baltimore. He pulled off to the side twice to consult his map and still could not find who was tailing him, but he never lost the feeling that someone was there. As he entered the Barre Circle neighborhood, he decided that he would drive up and down several streets before approaching Scott Street. Thirty minutes later he reached his goal. He had gone slowly down the first three streets pausing occasionally to glance at the houses. When he reached Scott Street, he was able to comfortably search for the damn gargoyle.

It wasn’t the second house from the park; it was the third if that stupid gargoyle smiling at him smugly was the only one in the neighborhood. He didn’t dare stop, but noted the address, continued down the street and turned the corner. He forced himself to go down two more streets, and then decided he was tired of playing and made three quick right turns at random and then two lefts. He pulled into an alleyway, made some notes in his notebook and consulted his map. His next goal was twenty blocks away.

He had stopped by the station house to pick up a policeman who would escort him to the crime scene. He had cleared his visit to the scene of the crime with Anderson by phone earlier that morning, who had offered to send either O’Brien or Grayson with him if he so desired. AJ had toyed with the idea of asking for O’Brien, but he was concerned about the feelings that he was starting to have for the woman. He realized that knew nothing about her other than the fact that she was way too young for him and every time he was around her he felt sparks fly and totally inappropriate thoughts crowd his mind. He had politely declined the offer and Anderson had arranged for a uniform cop to lead him there and let him in.

He pulled up to the old brownstone building on Olive Street at 1800 hours. It was already pitch black out and he left his car with some trepidation even with the squad car parked in front of him. The street was full of tired brownstones containing bars, liquor stores and adult bookstores, the few buildings that did not have business establishments clearly marked were still clearly business establishment of another kind. Only the very poor or the very old could not or would not move from this seedy neighborhood. Even this early in the evening he could see only three other people on the block. He was somewhat disappointed at not seeing Rabb’s SUV parked in front, but figured he and Webb had already been to see the old woman that lived across the hall from the murder victim. He and his escort mounted the steps of the building and pushed open the front door. The interior door was ajar but this did not particularly surprise him and they entered the building. Officer Rudd advised that their destination was the third floor. On the second floor landing they heard hysterical laughter coming from an apartment down the hall before the door was slammed shut. When they finally reached the third floor they headed for the apartment with the police tape across the door. As he had walked down the hallway, AJ felt that same feeling that he had earlier in the afternoon, but this time he was able to identify the source immediately. As they came to the door with the crime scene tape across it, he had heard the door across the hall close and locks being turned one by one. He had counted six and smiled to himself, he remembered reading from the report that the neighbor, a Mrs. Geraldi was a feisty but cautious 78.

Rudd unlocked the door and allowed AJ to enter the room. Rudd stood just inside the open door and watched as AJ got a feel for the murder scene. It was still in the same condition it must have been in after the lab techs had left. He surveyed the room trying to get a feel for the day of the crime. The bloodied sheets he had seen from the crime scene photos were gone, of course, as was much of the broken crockery and glass. He wasn’t sure really why he had come, but he felt that it was something he should do. He walked to the small bathroom and looked around. He looked up at the ceiling for inspiration if nothing else and found only mold and spots of things he didn’t want to know about. He shook his head and walked out into the sitting room and found himself face to face with Detective Grayson; Rudd was nowhere to be seen.

Grayson smiled and AJ was reminded of the time when he was a boy in Texas, and he had had to shoot a rabid dog. Grayson had the same vacant crazed look in his eyes. He looked AJ up and down and said, "Who are you supposed be, some bad-ass? You think the guys down here are going to look at you and cringe. You think that pretty toy of yours is going to be there when you get back downstairs?" AJ met the man’s look and said,

"Oh I don’t know Grayson, it’s early and I’m sure Rudd will make sure it’s all right. What are you doing here? I told Anderson I didn’t need you here. You afraid of something?" AJ had purposely thrown out this last question to see what kind of reaction it would get and he was not disappointed. Grayson snarled and stepped up to AJ and jabbed his finger into his chest.

"Listen Mr. High and Mighty. I know all about you and all about your kind. This is a righteous bust and there is nothing for you to find here. I suggest you get yourself back downstairs and get the hell out of this neighborhood, before you find out just how late it is down here." Grayson was breathing hard and AJ had recognized the odor immediately. Fear. Damn near pure terror. He forced himself to not react to the finger being jabbed in his chest, even though the last person that had done so had ended up with a broken wrist. He moved into the jab, forcing Grayson to step back. Since he towered over the other man by at least six inches Grayson lost his advantage. He dropped his hand to his side and said, "You through here?"

AJ looked at him for a moment, deliberately walked around him and circled the room one last time. AJ then turned on his heel, the open coat swinging around his knees and walked through the open doorway. Without turning around, he called out "Don’t forget to lock up." And proceeded down the steps to the front door. As he approached his car, he breathed a sigh of relief; no one had bothered it, even though Officer Rudd’s cruiser was nowhere to be seen. He got in checked some notes and drove away.

It was 2000 hours when he drove past The Depot. It was way too early to enter the club and accomplish anything; but he had wanted to scope out where he would be spending the evening. The neighborhood was in the process of urban renewal. Older business vied with cutting edge boutiques and arty restaurants. He drove slowly down the street and found an all night garage and decided to park and grab a bite to eat at one of the less pretentious establishments. He walked down the street getting a feel for the people and was aware of and secretly pleased at the glances that one or two of the women gave him as he strolled through the night air, his leather coat almost flowing behind him. He was very glad he had decided to wear this reminder of a sad time.

He found an older Chinese Restaurant and had decided on it for his dinner, realizing that he had once again not eaten anything for lunch. He grabbed a newspaper from the machine in front and walked into the small establishment that obviously made its revenues from carryout and delivery. Thankfully it did have five small tables for those who wished to ‘dine-in’. He walked to the window and placed his order for spicy Mongolian Beef and went to sit and contemplate street scene through the large picture window of the restaurant.

::  Chapter 16  ::

Webb and Rabb had walked down the steps of JAG headquarters, looked at their respective vehicles and mutually decided that a more nondescript car was called for. There were several military vehicles that they could have used, but that did not solve their problem either. They stood contemplating their dilemma when Webb sighed, turned to Rabb and said, "Follow me."

Twenty minutes later they had pulled up to the guard shack outside of the CIA headquarters in Langley. The guard, after talking to Webb waved Rabb through. They parked in the back of the building. As Clay had gotten out and approached his car, Rabb had rolled down the window to hear the spy say, "Wait here, I’ll see what’s available." Fifteen minutes later, after flipping to see who would drive, Harmon Rabb was behind the wheel of a recent model Ford Taurus, driving back through the main checkpoint on the way to Baltimore.

Traffic was light so they made good time. Webb studied Rabb for about ten minutes when the object of his scrutiny finally turned to him and said, "What?"

"Nothing, just not a lot to look at." Webb turned his glance toward the brown landscape of Maryland. After a moment, he said, "So how was California?"

"I’ve got a better question, what the hell is going on?" Harm snapped.

Webb looked guiltily back at the Navy lawyer and for a moment almost said ‘Nothing, why what do you think is going on?’ when he realized Rabb meant the situation with the e-mail and the CIA’s involvement with a domestic murder trial. He said a quick silent thanks and told Rabb the whole story, at least the part that AJ himself knew. Rabb had no need to know how this whole thing had thrown the CIA for a loop.

When he had finished, he returned his gaze to the passing landscape. Rabb waited until they were just pulling into the Baltimore city limits to hit him with the other barrel, "So what’s going on between you and my partner?" he asked quietly. Webb had whipped his head around to stare at the other man but found that Rabb was apparently concentrating on traffic, his hand lightly holding the steering wheel in the accepted 10 and 2 position.

Webb decided to ignore the question and instead studied the list of addresses that Rabb had given him when he had won the toss. Webb cleared his throat and in a voice more steady that he felt said, "You want to go to Olive Street first and interview the old lady? It’s closest."

Rabb looked over at Webb and instead of insisting, asked, "You know how to get there?"

Momentarily relieved, Webb looked at the map he had grabbed from his own car and said, "Yeah, take the 2^nd exit after this one." For the next 20 minutes, Webb navigated them through the dense inner-city traffic. When they pulled up to the old brownstone it was 1300 hours. They climbed the steps and found the building pretty much wide open. They found the stairs and reached the third floor. Rabb led the way and without consulting Webb walked right up to the only door that Mrs. Geraldi could be in and knocked sharply. They stood there for a moment when they heard a tiny voice say, "Who is it?"

Rabb responded for both of them, "Commander Harmon Rabb, ma’am, United States Navy."

They heard a tiny "oh" and then heard chains rattle and locks snick and then the door opened and Rabb looked down on the tiniest woman he had ever met. She couldn’t have been more than 4’ 6" and her hair, from what little he could see, was a wild halo of gray. "Stand back so I can see you."

Harm did so and said, "Ma’am, my associate and I," indicating Webb, "need to talk to you about the murder that happened across the hall."

She didn’t take the final chain off of the door but spoke through the crack, "I already told the other policemen everything I know."

Rabb looked at a loss for words at her obvious confusion so Webb stepped to the front and gently said, "Ma’am we aren’t with the police, we just need to ask you a few questions, may we come in please?" The woman eyed Webb through the door and then huffed gently and pushed the door closed. They heard the last chain being dropped and then the door opened again.

They assumed she was behind the door because there was nobody standing before them. They entered the apartment, Webb leading the way. When Rabb had cleared the doorway, the door shut behind him and they turned and saw the old woman carefully re-locking each lock. As she secured them in, they looked around the one-room apartment. It was neat and tidy, but only had one comfortable chair and a bed. There was a small hot plate on the table by the window and an old refrigerator in the corner of the room. There was a lifetime of knickknacks scattered around and a feeling of closed-in oppression. The old lady walked carefully and very slowly to the chair, and lowered herself into it. Webb could see that she had the chair positioned so she could sit in it and look out the window. "Well," she replied indicating the bed, "you can sit there or stand, but I don’t like looking up at people." Rabb sat gingerly on the bed. Webb opted to squat down on his heals, bring himself to eye level with their witness.

Rabb cleared his throat and started, "Ma’am, could you tell us exactly what you saw that Saturda?."

She turned her head from Webb and glazed at Rabb for a while, then she snapped, "It’s just like I told the cops, I saw that Marine fellow come up to the door and pound on it. I keep an eye on what goes on around here and he was making an awful racket, I kept the one chain on and I opened the door and I could see him plain as I’m seeing you right there. Yes sir, knew it was him as soon as that cop showed me his picture." Webb shot a glance at Rabb and took the ball,

"Ma’am, how many pictures did he show you?" Webb asked gently.

"Well, you young fool, there was only one man at the door, he only had to show me one picture, didn’t he?" She looked like she was finished and Rabb had opened his mouth to ask another question, when she continued, "Besides, all Marines are alike. My Morry was a Marine. I hate Marines." She looked at Rabb and smiled sweetly, "Sailors on the other hand. I love sailors." Harm smiled weakly and started to get up. Webb started to follow suit when she turned to him, and asked, "Why aren’t you in uniform, you ashamed or something?"

Webb let a smile light his face and said, "Oh no, ma’am, my uniform is at the cleaners. This is all I had to wear." Apparently satisfied by this response, she held out her arm to Webb who helped her to her feet.

As she led them slowly back to the door, she said, "Not that she didn’t deserve it you understand. Dirty rotten, whore, ought to be ashamed of herself. I told that to that nice pretty detective. The other one didn’t want to talk to me after I said that he had the right guy when he showed me the picture. She was nice. She sat here for hours and talked to me. Made sure nobody bothered me either." Mrs. Geraldi muttered on until she had reached the door and slowly unlocked each lock and opened it and let them out. Just as she was closing the door they heard, "I hope he gets the electric chair." As they reached the head of the flight of stairs they heard the locks slowly snicking closed.

They rapidly went down the steps and when they reached the street Webb looked at Rabb and said, "Well that one is going to be easy to dismiss on cross examination. Lets just hope that the other two are that easy."

Rabb looked down the street and pointed out a porno shop, "That’s our next stop."

Webb muttered "Terrific." And followed Harm down to the tiny little shop. He allowed Rabb to turn the doorknob and to open the door, then followed him in. As soon as they were inside, they both wanted desperately to turn around and leave. The place stank and they were both instantly afraid they would catch something terrible just by standing there. From behind the counter they heard,

"Yeah, what the hell do you two want? The Homo stuff is in back?" Rabb looked at Webb who just closed his eyes and sighed.

"Mr. Koshigan?" Rabb pronounced the name as he studied his notebook.

The man behind the counter stood up and walked to the front. He was as dirty as his shop. "Yeah, who the fuck wants to know?" He got within a foot of Rabb and Harm thought he would pass out. It seemed that the smell was coming from the shop’s owner more than the shop itself.

"Uhm, Sir, my name is Commander Rabb, US Navy and I am here investigating the death that occurred down the block." Rabb was trying very hard to be polite and Webb was standing as far away from the tall, greasy, fat man as he could.

Koshigan said, "Then why the fuck don’t you go down the block?" He turned away from the two men, "Now get out of my store."

"Sir, you are on record as having identified one Gunnery Sergeant Galindez as having been in your shop the day of the murder and asking about the victim. Is that true?" Rabb kept is voice level, but his fists clenched and unclenched.

Koshigan snorted and continued back to his perch, "Yeah he was here, drunk as a damn skunk. Making all kinds of noises about his precious Sherilee. Fucking whore."

"How did you know it was Galindez?" Rabb asked quietly, hoping for the same response that the old lady had volunteered. But he was soon disappointed.

"Cause ya dumb bastard, he showed me his id." Rabb looked at him questioningly.

"Sir, why would he,"

"Cause he was as dumb as you two are." Koshigan was enjoying himself now. "He was so drunk, I told him to get the hell out. He got mad and said, ‘No way. I’m old enough to be here’ and when I tried to tell him to get out he pulled out his id to prove it or something, like I didn’t know he was old enough. It was him all right. God damn, stupid Spics. They’re ruining this country."

Finally Clay had had enough and said softly, "Yeah for fine upstanding citizens like yourself no doubt."

Seeing the belligerent stance that Clay had assumed the fat man got back down off he perch and made his way to the front of the store. By that time, Clay had already turned and motioned for Rabb to lead the way out the front door. Koshigan grabbed Webb’s arm and the next thing Rabb knew the store-owner was kneeling on the floor grabbing his gut. Webb was standing over him, shaking out his hand.

As they walked back out to the chill November air, they both breathed in huge amounts of relatively clean air, trying desperately to clean the stench from their nostrils. Rabb recovered first and said only a little sarcastically, "Good one Webb, save some of that for when we need it."

Webb looked at the other man and said, "He pissed me off."

"Yeah but if he calls the cops." Rabb continued as they approached the car.

"Like I really care if he calls the cops." Webb snorted. In the distance they heard a siren, looked at each other and sprinted to the car. They had started to pull away when the police car came barreling down the street, lights flashing but passing both them and the porno store by, heading for other problems. Webb looked at Rabb and they both laughed in relief. "You want to grab a bite to eat?" the spy asked.

"Oh yeah, we passed that vegetarian restaurant on the corner." Rabb teased.

"Actually, there is a fairly good Indian restaurant about five blocks from here. I don’t think we are going to find our gangbanger for a couple of hours yet. Besides, I would just as soon talk to him while he is working than to try and track him down on his turf." Webb checked the information that Rabb had written down from the case file.

Rabb pulled into the street and asked, "How did you know there is a good Indian restaurant five blocks from here?" Webb merely smiled and told him,

"Hang a right at the next corner go down three block turn left and go two blocks, you can’t miss it."

It was early, so they had the restaurant to themselves. After they had ordered, they sat drinking the coffee that they ordered and Rabb brought up the subject again. "So you going to tell me what’s going on between you and Mac?"

Webb returned his look for just a moment, dropped his gaze and said, "No."

"Damn it Webb!" Rabb allowed the frustration of the past hour to get the better of him, but Webb gave him a look and then sighed.

"There is nothing going on. We are just friends, I’ve been there for her while you’ve been on your grand high sulk. But nothing has happened." The truth in his words stung and Rabb had the good grace to blush.

Rabb looked everywhere except at the man sitting across from him and finally admitted, "I’ve been a real jerk these past months."

Clay nodded emphatically and said, "Yeah you have. You really hurt her bad. How could you blame her for what happened?"

Rabb finally met Webb’s eye, "I know it wasn’t her fault but if she hadn’t decided to actually date the bastard."

Webb cut him off, "Bullshit. You had your chance. She told me about what happened in Sydney. Why didn’t you do something when she was practically begging you to?"

Rabb closed his eyes in pain and then opened them, "Because it wouldn’t have worked out. It never does." He paused and decided to press a little, "You think there is still a chance though." He asked softly.

Webb looked at the man who had so much going for him and thought, <<< Christ, looks, a great career, hell he would probably will end up a four-star if he doesn’t get himself killed first, but he can’t commit to the finest woman either one of us knows>>>>. He ground out, "No, no I don’t."

"Why not?" Rabb thought he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it.

"Because if you tried and then you hurt her, I will have to kill you." Webb said it straight face with no kidding but also no bravado at all. It was the answer that Rabb had been expecting.

"So when are you going to tell her how you feel?" he asked the spy softly.

"When she decides she wants something more than friendship?" it was Clay’s turn to study the surrounding empty tables.

Rabb saw the approaching waiter and decided to try for the last word, "Well that’s real smart, look where it got me." Webb had the good grace to let the matter drop.

An hour later, they left and went in search of their last witness. Michael ‘Tino’ Smith had supposedly been Sherilee’s pimp. What a pimp and a gangbanger with a rep on the streets was doing washing dishes at a crummy little restaurant on "the strip" was beyond either Webb or Harm’s ability to figure out. They tracked him down an hour later and discovered the reason why. After they had identified themselves as Naval investigators to the owner, he led them back to the kitchen muttering under his breath that the little bastard just wasn’t worth the trouble, they saw ‘Tino’ talking to a tall haggard looking man. As they approached the pair, they heard the man say "well it looks like you are keeping your nose clean Mr. Smith, keep it up and your parole will be through in another three months." Understanding finally dawned. ‘Tino’ had to show that he was gainfully employed in order to stay on parole.

‘Tino’ saw them approach and both men caught the feral look that skittered across his face. Webb hung back once again and allowed Rabb to ask the questions. "Mr. Smith, we are investigating for the Navy the charges that Gunnery Sergeant Galindez killed Sherilee Cloud? Do you mind if we ask you some questions?"

Before ‘Tino’ could say anything, his parole officer butted in with, "Is Mr. Smith suspected of anything here?" He glared at all three men with the same intensity.

Rabb answered him, "Not that we know of Mr. Uhm?"

"Carter. I’m Mr. Smith’s parole officer." The man pompously supplied.

"Well Mr. Carter, is there a problem with us questioning Mr. Smith?" Rabb asked in a tone that left know doubt of the answer he expected to hear.

Carter pulled himself up to his full 5’6" sniffed and advised, "Mr. Smith is as free as any citizen to answer, or not answer YOUR questions." He gave ‘Tino’ one last look and left the kitchen by the back door.

Finally alone, Rabb turned to ‘Tino’ only to find him walking away towards the back of the kitchen. "Tino, we have some questions."

Smith never even bothered to turn around, he held up his middle finger and said, "Forget about it sailorman, you heard my parole officer, I can answer or not answer. I pick not answer." Rabb couldn’t figure out why, but his gut told him that ‘Tino’ could tell them something. He started to follow the man back, when they heard,

"Enough already, I got a business to run here. You want to continue this, do it when he gets off work, in six hours, now beat it." The two men turned to see the restaurant owner standing behind them. They looked at each other and sighed and walked back through the front of the restaurant.

When they reached the sidewalk, Clay looked up down the street as he always did when he left anywhere. He noticed two cars bearing down on them, he didn’t know why but the same instinct that had kept him alive in Indochina and in Beirut, saved their lives that day too. He spun around, grabbed Rabb and yelled, "Get down," just as the shots rang out.

Rabb heard the tires squeal and felt the push from Clay. He fell to the ground with Clay falling on top of him. After he heard the wheels turn the corner, he said, "Thanks Webb. You want to get off of me now?" The next thing he heard, chilled him to the bone,

All Rabb heard was a deep groan and, "I can’t I’ve been hit."  

Chapter 17 - 20

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