| Subject: 'Carnival' - Part Six |
Author:
Daenar
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Date Posted: 14:41:24 07/24/02 Wed
In reply to:
Daenar
's message, "'Carnival' - Part Five" on 14:39:50 07/24/02 Wed
‘Carnival’ – Part Six
Author: Daenar
Disclaimer: See Part One
From part five:
Harm’s smile deepened even more at her reply. He made a movement as if to lean in to kiss her, but then stopped and again had to blow his nose. “At least I can always say I’m using my handkerchief because of my cold and not because of my emotions,” he chuckled.
“Nope, flyboy,” Mac retorted, chuckling as well, “Your watery eyes betray you.”
“Damn,” Harm mockingly swore and then turned serious again. “I’m only sorry I can’t seal our deal with a kiss now, but I don’t want you to catch a cold as well.”
Mac couldn’t help laughing again. This was so typical for her flyboy. Only concerned about her well-being. She loved him for that, too. “Nonsense,” she said. “If I wasn’t ill before I’ll be now, having been out in these temperatures for so long with only this costume on. And I definitely insist on that kiss.”
“Aye, ma’am,” Harm whispered just before his lips met hers in the sweetest, softest kiss Mac had ever received in her life. They didn’t break the contact for what seemed an eternity to both of them, this first, chaste kiss being the promise for so much more that was to follow when time was right.
___________________________________________________________________________
Part Six:
0553 ZULU
Hotel Bartolini
Near the Arsenale
Castello, Venice
Mac felt like a fourteen-year-old girl, giggling, dancing, bubbling over with joy, as she prepared to leave her room for an early breakfast. She hadn’t slept much, but unlike after an ordinary night of insomnia, she didn’t mind. She had lain on her back, glanced at the stars outside, thinking of Harm. She could still feel his lips on hers, remember his scent, his embrace, how he had been shaking when he had finally, finally told her what she had wanted to hear for so many years. ‘This feeling of complete and utter love...’ she thought, mentally citing Chris De Burgh. Well, she had been in a red dress after all...
Then her thoughts would wander on, she would allow herself a glimpse of what the future might turn out to be. Her, Harm and one, maybe two little children, a white house with a front-porch swing big enough for all of them. Huge Christmas trees and Harm accompanying them on his guitar while they were singing. ‘My God, how mushy can dreams get,’ she had scolded herself, shaking her head and laughing softly. But maybe that was just the kind of stuff you got along for free when your heart seemed to overflow with joy.
Finally she had decided that she wanted to see the sun rise, take a walk on her own to fully come to understand just what had happened the night before between her and her flyboy. Yes, he was ‘her’ flyboy now. She smiled at the realization. There was no need for uneasiness about that kind of thoughts. Not anymore.
She grabbed a thick sweater to put on later over her turtleneck, turned to leave, then thought the better of it and took her shawl and gloves along as well. It would be chilly outside, and she was feeling the slightest bit of soreness somewhere down in her throat. As she opened the door, she stopped in her tracks and knelt down, a wide smile spreading across her face. There was a plain white envelope lying at her doorstep, that read ‘Sarah’ in Harm’s handwriting. Across it lay a single red rose. Carefully Mac picked up both treasures and descended to the breakfast room.
Outside all was still dark. The small lamps didn’t really succeed in lighting up the room and besides her there was no one downstairs yet. Mac sat down in her favorite corner, the very one she and Harm had shared their unexpected embrace in yesterday. She looked up, smiling, when she saw Sergio approach to take her order.
“Good morninga, signorina,” he grinned broadly, “Deeda you sleepa well?” His smile had a knowing edge.
‘Just what does he know?’ Mac wondered. Returning a radiant smile she answered: “Thank you, never been better.”
Sergio’s smile was that of a proud grandfather. “I expecteta ‘datta much,” he only said. At her somewhat dazzled look he winked. “I wassa making an inspectionna tour when you and ‘de comandante returned.”
Mac felt herself blush slightly. She remembered the goodnight kiss that she and Harm had shared in front of her door. It had been somewhat more passionate than their first kiss. As a matter of fact, she had been very much tempted to drag Harm into her room and lock the door. But the memory of her disastrous history with former relationships had made her consent when Harm had reluctantly pulled away with a whispered “Good night, Sarah.”
“Letta me justa say one ‘ting, signorina,” Sergio ventured smugly, noting her embarrassment. “Una voce poco fa qui nel cor mi risuonò...” he sang lightly, again winking at her. “A voissa a shorta time ago soundeda down here in my hearta,” he translated, smirking. “Rossini, ‘De Barber of Sevilla. You know, eet was ra’der obvious wid’ you two. Latte macchiato?”
Mac only nodded, dumbfounded. Sergio exercised a swift turn on one heel and went over to the coffee maker. Shortly after he returned with a steaming latte macchiato and left Mac alone seeing she wanted some privacy for her letter. Mac first took a deep sip of her coffee and then, with slightly trembling hands, opened the envelope to find a single white sheet.
My dearest Sarah, (she read,)
it’s 0430 and I’ve been unable to sleep ever since I kissed you goodnight. Don’t be alarmed – I don’t write to back off. Far be it from me!! I just needed some sort of contact with you and, not wanting to disturb you, I now imagine talking to you while I write these lines. And I imagine how your eyes light up – or let’s say I hope they will - when you read my letter in the morning.
Actually I don’t have anything new to say to you right now. So all I’ll do is repeat what I didn’t dare to tell you for such a long time: I love you, Sarah Mackenzie, with all my heart. As I told you, this goes way beyond anything I ever experienced in any relationship I ever had in my life, even the one with Diane. I’m scared beyond recognition, but at the same time I feel that I have finally reached my true private paradise. The one with you inside and our family-to-be. I only ask you to be patient with me. Giving in to feelings has always been hard for me. So if at times I may seem distant, it will only be myself battling with myself inside my soul. It will never mean that I love you any less than I do now and always have. I couldn’t love you any less because along with those feelings a part of myself would die as well. And I promise I’ll work on always completely opening up in front of you. Just at the moment I feel it still somewhat exceeds my courage.
I can’t wait to see you in the morning. In the meantime feel embraced tightly, and may God bless your sleep.
Yours always,
Harm
P.S.: Can you imagine it really took me seven years to tell you how I felt?? Right now I can’t get over how easy it is to confess it! LY, H.
At his last comment a slight chuckle escaped Mac’s lips. Wiping away a tear of commotion, she murmured: “I could have told you, squid, but I doubt you would’ve listened.” She put the letter and the rose into the inside pocket of her fleece turtleneck. Having finished her latte, she rose, put on her sweater, gloves and shawl and stepped outside onto the foggy street.
Dawn had just started to creep across the sky. Right now it was of a deep royal blue, changing into something indefinite near the horizon. Mac drew in a deep breath, taking in the seawater scent and feeling herself wake up even more. Unable to hide her happiness that was written all across her face, Mac set off for the shore, ever accelerating her steps until she was literally racing up and down the steps of the bridges she encountered. She felt she had too much energy and had to let it out somehow or she would burst. Taking a sharp turn around the corner of one building, she bumped into someone who came running from the opposite direction.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t...” Mac started to excuse herself. Then she recognized whom she had run into. “Hi...” she whispered, blushing, her voice faltering.
“Hi yourself,” Harm answered softly. They stood facing each other, unsure what to do, waiting for the other to make the first move. Three seconds, four, five, six... His grin was contagious. Finally they burst out laughing. Harm gathered her into his arms and squeezed her tightly. “Good morning, Marine,” he whispered.
Mac drew back and looked up at him. “Good morning to you, too, sailor. And thank you for your wonderful surprise.”
Harm was actually blushing like a schoolboy. Looking down he said: “Nah... no big deal, Mac.” He looked up again, smiling. “Feels so much better talking to you in person.”
“Why didn’t you just drop by? Did you really think I was able to sleep?”
He grinned sheepishly. “Not really. But blame it on my cowardice. Besides,” he added with a sly wink, “If I had I think it highly probable I wouldn’t have succeeded in being a good boy with you lying at my side.”
She was all game. “Maybe I wouldn’t have objected...”
That caused a fit of nervous coughing on his side. Mac decided to change the subject. “How long have you been out? And, by the way, are you out of your senses to go running in this cold air while developing a major cold, Commander?”
“I had to weary myself out. You had me on high adrenaline all night with your kiss, Colonel,” he told her when he had regained his breath.
“So did you,” she admitted softly, causing the color on his cheeks to deepen even more. “I suggest we return to the hotel and you get a shower and put on something warm and then we’ll decide how to spend the day. Objections?”
“No, your honor,” he replied in his best courtroom voice. She playfully slapped him on the arm and they headed back to the hotel.
“Do I see a flower missing in that arrangement over there?” she asked him, grinning, as they ascended the stairs to their rooms.
“I confess,” he laughed. “But I didn’t know where else you could find roses in Venice at 0530 in the morning.”
“Anyway, I love it. Thank you, Harm.”
“Anytime. Mac, would you... would you come in?” he carefully asked her when they had reached his door. On seeing her startled expression, he quickly added: “Don’t worry, nothing serious. I just want you to be around.”
She relaxed and smiled. “Sure.”
They entered his room and he immediately headed for the bathroom. “Do you want a cup of tea?” he asked her.
Mac thought she had heard him wrong. “What did you just say?”
His head emerged around the bathroom doorpost, grinning broadly. “I just wanted to know if you’d like a cup of tea.” He held up a small electric kettle.
“You never cease to amaze me,” Mac said, raising her eyebrows. “Yes, thanks, I’d love something to warm me up.” ‘Or someone,’ she added to herself.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be with you in a minute. Don’t run away.” He blew her a kiss and closed the door.
Mac settled down on the bed, having thrown off her shoes, gloves, shawl and thick sweater. She took a quick look around and found the T-shirt he must have worn at night crumpled right next to her. Mentally shaking her head at the silliness of her actions, she couldn’t resist taking it and burying her nose into it. ‘Get a grip, Marine,’ she scolded herself when she felt her stomach tighten. ‘Since when exactly have you been dominated by some hormone?’ ‘Since the hormone called Harmon,’ she answered her question, wondering in the back of her mind if she should think about a new job as she was obviously losing her sense. Luckily Harm saved her from the situation as he emerged from the bathroom, his hair still wet, clad in fresh sweats and carrying two plastic mugs of tea with the bags still inside.
“I’m sorry they aren’t fresh tea leaves but teabags are easier to bring.”
“It’ll be just perfect,” she said with a smile, taking the mugs while he climbed onto the bed beside her and they leaned against the wall, both enjoying each other’s closeness.
Harm took his mug from her hands and placed a quick, feathery kiss on her lips. “Thanks for your company, my favorite Marine.”
“My pleasure.”
“What do we do today?” he asked her between two sips of tea.
She blew on her cup to cool the beverage down a bit. “I guess we get Fred and make him take us to this... what was his name? The guy with the strange mask.”
“Calvi,” he helped.
“Yeah, him. And his friends. And they’ll have to tell us a little story. After that we’ll see where the road leads to,” she went on.
“Where your road leads I will follow...” Harm softly sang, remembering the famous Trisha Yearwood/Garth Brooks duet at her choice of words. Surprisingly she at once took up the game.
“When your heart bleeds I’ll be there for you.” She decided her morning voice needed some tea.
“When your night grows dark and you can’t see your tomorrow,” Harm tried again, failing badly as a new fit of coughing rose in his throat.
“You can follow me,” Mac finished the chorus, laughing, as she slightly patted him on the back.
“We need to practice on that one,” Harm decided, panting and laughing as well.
“Definitely. Poor Garth and Trisha,” Mac agreed.
In companionable silence they finished their tea, still grinning to themselves, then put down their empty mugs and snuggled into a close embrace. Only seconds later Mac felt Harm tense slightly. In surprise she looked up to find his face much closer to hers than she had been aware. Endless seconds ticked by as they held the eye contact, unsure how to go on. As if he were moving in slow motion, Harm couldn’t resist the urge to close the distance. He leaned in as she stretched up to him, their lips meeting halfway in a tentative kiss that almost instantly grew out of hands. Passion was building up between them as Mac shifted her position to allow Harm to take her into his arms, never breaking the kiss. He lowered her onto her back, almost burying her underneath himself.
‘You’d better stop it now,’ a little voice told Harm from the back of his mind. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He knew that in the current state of their relationship maintaining a little control could be vital, but he wasn’t strong enough to fight seven years of suppressed longing. Harm still couldn’t fully believe that it was Mac whom he was kissing. She was passionately responding to his actions and things surely would have led to the inevitable if it hadn’t been for the telephone to save them. Feeling a sharp pang of disappointment, they broke their contact at the third ringing, confusion filling their minds. And eventually gratitude to the higher instance that had prevented them from rushing something they were not yet ready for in their hearts. Harm got up, cleared his throat and took up the receiver.
“Rabb,” he said, pushing the speaker button for Mac to hear.
“Harm? ‘Dis is Amedeo. Could you and Sarah come over to ‘de questura? We have some’ting ‘dat might be of interest for you.”
“Sure, we’ll be right there,” Harm answered. “What is it?”
“’De coroner sent his extended report ‘dis morning,” De Carlo explained. “He found notches on ‘de girl’s bones ‘dat could only have been caused by a knife’s point. ‘De respective knife would subsequently bear traces of ‘de violent contact wid’ ‘de victim’s bones. Normally its point would flatten. Quinn’s knife’s point didn’t, ‘dough. Which means...”
“That Quinn’s knife could never have been the murder weapon,” Harm finished the sentence for him, raising an eyebrow to an astonished Mac. “Thank you for calling, Amedeo. We’ll join you ASAP.” With that he put the receiver down.
“Now this is getting interesting,” Mac murmured as she laced up her shoes.
0804 ZULU
The Venice Questura
Near Campo S.Maurizio
San Marco, Venice
“You’re right,” Harm said, his pronunciation letting show that the mucous membranes inside his nose were swelling ever more. “There are do traces whatsoever iddicating that the kdife bight have violetly hit sobthing hard, like a bode.” Sniffing, he drew back from the microscope he had been examining Quinn’s Swiss knife through. Mac smiled compassionately, handing him a fresh handkerchief.
“Yet the coroner’s pictures clearly show the notches,” she added, pointing them out on the photos to her partner. “Three on the right collar bone, two on two ribs on the left and... well, many more still.”
“I’ve called Prumetti to join us. He’ll be here any minute so we can go to ‘de Morosini and find Calvi,” De Carlo said, “And we already sent our divers to search ‘de canals near to where ‘de body was found. Maybe ‘de murder weapon is still out ‘dere. After ‘de questioning we’ll drop by and inquire if ‘dey found some’ting.”
At this the door was opened and Fred entered the office, panting. He had obviously been running. “Good morning, ma’am, sir, Commissario,” he blurted out.
“Good bording, Lieutedant,” Harm answered, letting a sneeze into Mac’s handkerchief follow the greeting.
“I’m sorry to see our Grand Canal didn’t do you good, sir,” Fred observed compassionately.
“That wouldn’t have been too much of a problem if our commander here hadn’t, in his state, gone out running at half past six in the morning,” Mac stated dryly.
“Oh...” made Fred, acknowledging to himself that he would have judged Harm somewhat smarter.
“Tenente, potrebbe portarci al Collegio Navale, per favore?” De Carlo said in Fred’s direction. “Vorremmo fare qualche domanda al Capo Calvi.” [Lieutenant, could you please take us to the Naval College? We would like to ask P.O. Calvi some questions.]
“Certo, Commissario,” Fred replied. He turned to Harm and Mac. “Ma’am, sir, I’ve already notified Admiral Della Rosa and the C.O. of the Collegio Morosini. We are free to proceed.”
“Good work, Lieutenant,” Mac smiled. ‘I like people who think by themselves,’ she added in her mind. Taking the photos and the coroner’s report with them, the foursome set off for the Naval College.
0853 ZULU
Collegio Navale Francesco Morosini
Castello, Venice
‘Patria e Onore’ – Fatherland and Honor – was written above the entrance to the brick-stone building in impressive gold letters. Apart from that Harm and Mac could immediately tell that the school had seen better days. But still the court and the gardens seemed to be kept in neat order. At the gate they had been met by a lieutenant, j.g. Fred obviously knew very well. He presented him to them as Giuseppe Riva and told them they had been together at Livorno, attending Naval Academy. Riva took them to an empty schoolroom and bid them to wait while he would call Calvi.
A little later the Italian petty officer entered. He was young and smug, the type that more easily succeeded with women than on the career stairway. Mac could tell at once that he was uneasy. ‘This shouldn’t be too hard,’ she contently said to herself.
Calvi came to attention, saluted and was, at Harm’s sign, ordered to take a seat by Fred. Harm had – sniffling – told Mac that he preferred to remain silent as he probably wouldn’t sound too impressive with his by now completely closed nose. He delicately bit his lower lip to be able to breathe without having to sit with his mouth open.
“Do you understand English, Capo?” Mac opened the interrogation after having presented herself, Harm and De Carlo.
“Yes, Colonello.” Calvi’s voice was a little strained.
“We would like to ask you a few questions. Do you, by chance, know someone who owns a mask similar to this one?” She gave him a photo Fred had provided her with beforehand.
Calvi blanched slightly. “Yes, Colonello. I myselffa ‘ave a maska lika ‘datta.”
‘At least he doesn’t try an escape,’ Mac noted. “Do you also own a fitting cape and hat to go with it?” she went on.
“Yes, Colonello.”
“Did you, by any chance, wear those things on the evening of Saturday February 18th?”
“I... yes, Colonello.”
“Did you go out in costume?”
“Yes, Colonello.” By now Calvi was as white as a freshly washed sheet.
“Alone?”
“No, Colonello. Wid’ two friends. Capo Corvo and Capo Manin.”
“Lieutenant Riva,” Mac addressed Fred’s friend, “Would you please be so kind as to look for the two persons Capo Calvi just mentioned?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Riva rose and exited the room.
“Where did you go, Capo?” Mac again turned to Calvi.
“To ‘de Piazzetta, Colonello. A bar ‘datta is called ‘Chioggia’.”
“What happened there?”
Calvi seemed to sense he’d better not beat around the bush with the Marine colonel seated in front of him. “We meetta soma Americans and ave... conversazione. ‘Dey wanta to be Venetians. We tella ‘dem ‘dey needa to try Venetian... uhm... alcohol. ‘Den we go forr walk. ‘Den we tella ‘dem ‘dey needa to go on gondola. Eet was only joka, Colonello,” he eventually blurted out, unable to stay calm and control his fear.
By that time Riva had stepped back in, bringing with him two seemingly equally frightened petty officers. Mac immediately waved them off attention and motioned them to sit, again presenting the members of the investigating team.
“Go on, Capo,” she then said to Calvi.
“’Datta ees all I know, Colonello”, Calvi replied with an unsteady voice.
Mac let them see a small amount of a Marine colonel’s frown. “Are you sure, Capo? Nothing that might be of interest after the American sailors took off in the Navy Gondola? And, by the way, you did know the boat in question was that of the Venice Port Authority, right?”
“Yes, Colonello,” Calvi acknowledged, beaten, in a barely audible voice. That American female officer knew she had him.
“Excuse me, Col. Mackenzie,” Fred cut in. Then he turned to Calvi and shouted: “Risponda in modo percettibile, Capo! Dimostri il rispetto adeguato di fronte ad un ufficiale!” [Answer audibly, Capo! Show the respect that is due an officer!]
“Sì, Tenente!” Calvi shouted, jumping to his feet and coming to attention. Fred ordered him to sit down again and exchanged a quick glance of mutual amusement with Harm and De Carlo.
“Thanks, Lieutenant,” Mac said in Fred’s direction, believing to have understood what he had told Calvi. Then she again turned to Calvi, her frown slightly deepening. “Let me be straightforward with you, Capo. You induced someone to steal the Port Authority’s gondola. I am sure the Italian navy has some kind of jurisdiction against that.” She looked at Riva.
“You should ask Lt. Prumetti, ma’am,” the lieutenant answered. “He’s a lawyer.”
Mac’s eyebrows shot two stories high as she exchanged a glance with Harm, whose astonishment finally allowed him to breathe freely through his open mouth. De Carlo smirked to himself. Together Harm and Mac turned to face a very embarrassed Fred who gave them a pleading ‘tell-you-later’ look and then matter-of-factly answered: “Uhm... indeed we have, ma’am. As soon as we’ll have concluded the murder investigation, I will inform our legal department that we have a case at hand over here.” Mac and Harm didn’t miss the glare Fred shot Riva who seemed to wonder what he had done wrong.
“Well, then, Capo”, Mac drawled, putting on her best poker face, “As actually consenting to your inducement is still entirely the fault of the two American personnel, I think I could negotiate a lesser punishment for you with the Italian authorities” – she cast a sly glance at Fred who played along – “in exchange for detailed information on what happened after the gondola was gone. There is something you didn’t tell us yet, isn’t there?” She let her glance slowly wander to Corvo and Manin who shifted uneasily on their chairs. Finally Calvi spoke up.
“Yes, Colonello,” he said, defeated. “When ‘dey are gone wid’ ‘de gondola we wanta to taka ‘deir ‘tings and wanta to go forr coffee until ‘dey come backa. ‘De knife was wid’ ’de ‘tings. ‘Den we hearr woman crying and screaming. We ‘ide around ‘de corner. We leave ‘tings.” Calvi swallowed hard, obviously still digesting the dreadful view that must have opened before him and his colleagues. “’Den we see a man in bauta and ‘de woman.”
“In what?”
“Bauta, ma’am,” cut in Riva, “A traditional Venetian mask and costume.”
‘I’m beginning to get sick of masks,’ Mac thought. “Thank you, Lieutenant. What happened next, Capo?”
Calvi’s voice was very strained as he went on, a deep frown showing on his face. “’De man and ‘de woman... uhm... discussione, Colonello, ‘den ‘de man taka outa ‘de knife and firsta cutta face and ‘den begin to... uhm... uhh...” he looked up helplessly at Riva.
“Cominciava ad accoltellarla, Capo?” the lieutenant asked. [He began to stab her, Capo?]
“Sì, Tenente.”
“It seems ‘de man in ‘de mask began to stab ‘de woman, ma’am,” Riva addressed Mac.
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Next?”
”’De man kill ‘de woman, ‘den he taka his knife and ‘trow in ‘de canale. He see ‘de seconda knife ‘datta was atta ‘de sida of canale. He taka eet wid’ his... uhm... fazzoletto,” Calvi indicated the pack of fresh paper handkerchiefs that lay before Harm, “And putta blooda of woman on ‘de knife. ‘Den he pusha woman down ‘de steps to ‘de canale and leave ‘de knife in a ‘idden corner so polizia can finda. ‘Den he go away. ‘De body swim wid’...uhm...corrente to olda house entrance ‘datta ees no morr used and filled wid’ water. ‘De body stay behinda ‘alfa open gate, no one see. ‘Datta ees all, Colonello.” From the fear in his eyes Mac knew this time the petty officer was being honest.
“Excuse me, Colonel,” said De Carlo, anger showing clearly on his face. He turned to the petty officers. “Perché non siete andati dalla polizia?” [Why didn’t you go to the police?]
“A causa della storia con la gondola, Commissario,” Calvi replied. “Avevamo paura di essere messi al rapporto dal comandante.” [Because of the story with the gondola, Commissario. We were afraid we would be reported to the C.O.]
“Grande,” De Carlo just muttered to himself, leaning back in his chair, having translated his question and Calvi’s answer to Harm and Mac. [Great.]
Mac exchanged looks with her colleagues, then rose and waited until everyone else had done the same, all except Harm and De Carlo coming to attention before her. “That will be all for the present. Be prepared to be questioned again and to be called witnesses in court, Capi. Dismissed.”
“Sì, Colonello”, the petty officers shouted and were led outside by Riva and Fred.
“Ah... Lt. Prumetti,” Mac called behind him. Fred motioned to Riva to go ahead and reluctantly turned, knowing what was expecting him.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Why didn’t you tell us you were a lawyer?” Mac asked very slowly. Harm leaned forward, blowing his nose. He was curious to hear that one.
“Uhm... permission to speak freely, ma’am?”
“Granted.” Mac fought to keep her mouth from twitching.
“Well, I...” Fred looked down, smiling sheepishly, “I always keep myself informed about military law and its respective authorities in other countries, ma’am. Through the Internet. Of course I had been familiar with you, Cmdr. Rabb and Admiral Chegwidden and with your reputation when I learnt of your expected arrival. Ma’am, I was so excited about getting to know the U.S. Navy’s JAG and his top team but I was afraid of giving a bad image myself. You have to know, I only graduated seven months ago and currently I’m not even working for the legal department. They needed a replacement for the Venice liaisons officer and asked me to transfer over here. I accepted, of course, because you don’t get assignments in your hometown very often. So I thought if you and Cmdr. Rabb wouldn’t know that I’m a lawyer you wouldn’t ask for advice and I wouldn’t be in danger of making a beginner’s mistakes, ma’am.”
Harm felt his laughter threaten and buried his nose in a new handkerchief, coughing heavily. Mac still fought for her composure at Fred’s admission. Only De Carlo could allow himself a broad grin.
“Well,” Mac finally said with a smile and a cocked eyebrow, “Welcome aboard our little boat made of paragraphs, crossing the sea of crime.”
At that, none of them could contain their laughter. Harm and De Carlo burst out first, Mac followed and finally, seeing that obviously the JAG officers hadn’t taken offence, Fred, still embarrassed, joined in.
“O.k., ragazzi,” De Carlo said, when he had calmed himself. “I suggest we go and see if ‘de divers have some’ting to show to us.” With that they left the Naval College and walked over to the crime site.
To be continued...
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