| Subject: 'Dissonance' - Part Two |
Author:
Daenar
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Date Posted: 14:50:42 07/24/02 Wed
In reply to:
Daenar
's message, "'Dissonance' (sequel to 'Carnival') - Part One" on 14:47:44 07/24/02 Wed
Title: 'Dissonance' - Part Two
Author: Daenar
Disclaimer: See Part One
“Did you hear anything about the program yet, Lt. Sims?” Tiner asked as they had found their seats. They had gotten very good tickets in the tenth row, near enough to the stage to see details but far away enough not to have to take up their heads. The whole concert hall was sold out, the audience obviously being very exclusive and ready to open their bursting purses for whatever charity was asked of them.
“No, Tiner. I tried to do some research but I’m as clueless as any of us.” Harriet smiled apologetically.
“Not entirely clueless, though,” cut in Sturgis.
“What do you know that we don’t, Cmdr. Turner?” Jackie Mattoni leaned forward, eager to learn some details.
Sturgis smiled. “Not much, actually. Bobbi’s been appointed host for the event and she let slip that we’ll get a program put together of very different pieces of music. But the interesting thing’s not so much what, but who will exhibit. It seems that for every governmental institution or military branch that participates one artist has been chosen. She won’t give me any further hints, telling me that even she gets her information on stage, opening envelopes, you know, like that Oscar stuff. But obviously whoever organized this mega event, thought it would add to the fun having the surprise moments secured. It will, definitely, for TV public.”
‘This is going to be fun,’ Mac thought. But before she could ask Sturgis for any further information, the orchestra appeared on stage and tuned their instruments. Somewhere a cell-phone started to beep. Angry “ssshhh”-noises caused a bustle in the audience as everyone double-checked their own electronic devices. Then the lights above the audience faded and a single spotlight appeared on stage, following the woman that was walking up to the center, obviously enjoying her warm welcome applause.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” Congresswoman Bobbi Latham gently greeted the public. “Let me welcome you to today’s government charity concert. Thank you for joining us in such big numbers. Let’s hope this fact will show some effects on the bank account we opened for today’s fundraising.” At Bobbi’s smile low chuckles were heard in the public. Mac watched Sturgis silently admire the beautiful African-American congresswoman in her smashing red dress. Bobbi continued. “A very warm welcome, too, to the many, many people who are with us today in front of their TVs with ZBS broadcasting live to you from D.C. During the interval we’ll provide you with a phone number where you can place your donations. As for the recipients of today’s fundraising, I now ask to come on stage someone who’ll explain the details to all of us. Representing the organizing institution of today’s concert, the Central Intelligence Agency,” (astonished murmurs were heard in the audience), “Please welcome Undersecretary of State, Mr. Clayton Webb.”
Mac sat bolt upright. A suspicion began to rise in her mind – but no, this couldn’t be true. Maybe he had met with Harm and would meet him again afterwards to blur their traces in their secret mission. But still... She cast a quick look at AJ who remained seated as quietly as he had been before. Maybe she was just imagining things.
Led by applause, Webb stepped onto the stage and greeted Bobbi charmingly with two pecks on the cheeks. ‘Tell me about the Oscars,’ Mac thought, frowning.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Clay began as the crowd had digested their astonishment, “I am very much aware that normally the CIA would be one of the last institutions in this country to ever organize a major public event like this. We ‘spies’,” he let the word sink in with a sly look around and at once had all the sympathies on his side as soft laughter was heard from the public, “We spies tend to cover our tracks wherever we go and if we ever come to medial attention it’ll surely be some misdirected operation that the media got a hint of. Anyway, we felt it was time to let people know that we actually do more good than they seem to believe. That is why we organized this event and we were surprised at the degree of cooperation we encountered with all congress and government authorities. You know, normally things don’t always go too smoothly...” Webb artfully let his voice trail off with a half-smile. ‘He is good at it!’ Mac conceded with a grin as the audience was laughing more openly, obviously liking the charming ‘spy’.
“The recipients of your donations live in a country that right now holds many dreadful memories and fears for Americans. They may seem to stand on the other side but they are still way too innocent to raise anything else than our compassion for their situation. Let us give a financial hand today to UNICEF’s projects in Afghanistan. Thank you.” Roaring applause filled the auditorium as Clayton Webb was led off the stage by Bobbi.
Mac turned to see a pained expression quickly cross Harriet’s face. She took her hand and squeezed it, earning a reassuring squeeze in return, telling her that her friend was all right.
“Today’s artists volunteered to stand up on stage. Every participating institution is sending a very gifted musician for you to enjoy today,” Bobbi explained, a white envelope in her hand. “So let’s just start, thanking the Washington Symphony Orchestra to have volunteered as well to accompany them.” Bobbi opened the envelope and quickly scanned the words on the card inside. “The conductor of our concert is a young special agent, normally specialized in profiling. He’ll open the program with the “Overture 1812” by Piotr Ilyitch Tchaikovsky. Let us all welcome, representing the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Special Agent Raymond Burns.” Bobbi made a wide gesture with her microphone-less arm and left the stage. A young, tall man walked up to the conductor’s podium, solemnly bowed and took up his baton. The concert began.
Soon everybody in the audience was silently wondering how governmental or military personnel could possibly find the leisure to exercise in a way that led them to the musical standards they were showing on stage. Burns had an excellent feeling for the orchestra’s needs. He would stay unobtrusive, let the professional musicians use their experience, but be present and a firm leader every time a passage needed it. And standards were kept high by every soloist that followed after the orchestral opening. An Air Force Captain provided a stunning interpretation of the first movement of Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy’s violin concerto in e minor. Then a state senator of Rhode Island would show her talent in the great aria of Pamina, taken from Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s ‘Magic Flute’. Then a high diplomatic officer from the State Department played a sweet little harpsichord concerto by Antonio Vivaldi.
As his applause faded away Bobbi again stepped on stage, like all other times before with yet another white envelope in her hand. “Before we grant you your well-deserved interval,” she began, interrupted by laughter from the audience who was enjoying the event to a great extent, “We have one last piece for you in store. I’ve been briefed that the artist who will now come to exhibit, has done a huge favor to all of us by stepping in for a colleague with only four days’ knowledge. We all owe him for that sacrifice.”
Mac felt her mouth go dry. This couldn’t be possible. Holding her breath, she saw Bobbi open the envelope and all of a sudden barely contain her surprise. The congresswoman swallowed, re-plastered her now somewhat strained smile to her face and announced: “We’ll now hear the second movement of Joaquín Rodrigo’s guitar concerto. And here is for you, representing the United States Navy, former naval aviator and now lawyer with the Judge Advocate General Corps, Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr.”
A loud ‘cloc’ indicated that Harriet had let her purse slip and fall on the ground in pure astonishment. For the JAG family the scene played in slow-motion: Jackie turned to Alan Mattoni who turned to Claire who turned to Fred who turned to Harriet who turned to Tiner who turned to Sturgis who turned to Mac who, feeling all their inquisitive gazes lingering on her, only lifted her hands in an I-was-as-clueless-as-you movement and turned to AJ who met all their glances with a huge smirk on his face.
Just then applause began to rise as a tall figure in immaculate dress whites slowly crossed the stage to the soloist’s chair near the conductor’s podium. Carrying his guitar in his left hand, Harm shook hands with the concertmaster in the first violins’ front row and then slowly bowed to the public, his eyes wandering.
Harm was desperately searching the audience for any sign of Mac. He was feeling dreadful and knew that his only source of strength to help him stand through this affair would be a reassuring look from her. Finally he saw her and his friends sitting in the tenth row, open-mouthed and staring up to him. ‘At least they didn’t know beforehand,’ he told himself, looking at Mac. His Marine finally seemed to realize that she had no reason whatsoever to fear for his physical well-being, and this realization, paired with the expression of rising pride of her best friend, painted to her features one of the most beautiful smiles Harm had ever seen on her. ‘I’ll play for you, Mac, only for you,’ he thought, answering her with a barely noticeable smile of his own, suddenly feeling much more at ease than he had all day.
He carefully re-tuned his instrument, took a firm seat and nodded to Burns to begin. It was the first time Mac ever heard the piece with its orchestral accompaniment. And the incredible amount of emotion and longing the piece held was underlined in every single note. Soon even the toughest coughers in the audience were silenced, holding their breath and listening to the tall navy officer who in an instant had succeeded in capturing their attention with the extent of emotion that his interpretation conveyed.
Instead of looking into the great nowhere or closing his eyes in concentration, Harm locked his gaze with Mac’s, his eyes never leaving hers, telling her that all that was inside the music was inside his heart as well, waiting for her to see. She seemed to read his music, and through it his mind, her glance confirming to him his hopes that her mind was a mirror to his own.
“This is incredible,” Mac heard Harriet whisper in awe. Had she been able to take her eyes away from Harm’s, she would have seen Alan and Fred taking the hands of their wife and fiancée, Harriet wiping away a tear from her cheek, Tiner sitting open-mouthed, staring, and AJ and Sturgis exchanging a look, having traced the line connecting Mac and Harm’s eyes.
When the piece finally came to an end there was nothing but deep silence. Harm held his hands on the chords for some endless moments, Burns never taking down the baton. Only after what seemed entire minutes but in reality were about ten seconds, Harm would take down his right hand and cast a smile up to the young conductor who returned it, letting drop his hands.
Then the hurricane broke loose. Tiner was the first to jump to his feet and with all the force his voice was able to bring up he yelled: “Braaavooo!!!” At once the whole auditorium joined in, cheering, whistling, clapping their hands wildly at this musical hallmark moment.
Harm rose and bowed, a smashing flyboy-grin spreading on his face, showing clearly his relief. His eyes never left Mac who was on her feet, applauding wildly with the whole JAG staff. ‘I love you!’ she mouthed, and he gave her a quick wink to show her he had understood.
He then left the stage, Burns following him, both reappearing after some moments. Burns made the orchestra stand and Harm again shook hands with the concertmaster. Bobbi came to join him, bringing with her the other soloists of the first half of the concert. All received flowers and congratulated each other. Then all musicians left the stage and the public streamed out of the concert hall, immediately crowding the bistro areas outside.
Mac turned to AJ who was walking behind her. “Excuse me, sir, but I’d like to go behind the stage for a moment.”
AJ smiled, his eyes full of pride for his officer who had saved the honor of the navy. “Then off you go, Colonel. We’ll see the commander after the concert. Bring him our compliments, will you?”
“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir.” And Mac was already on her way.
As she reached the soloists’ dressing-rooms behind the stage she stopped short in her tracks, seeing an enormous queue of dedication hunters in front of Harm’s door. Not wanting to cause any uproar, she quietly got in line. ‘They all have to be back in when the concert continues,’ she thought, smiling to herself. ‘I don’t.”
She enjoyed herself watching the people and listening to their conversation. Two teenage girls in very grown-up dresses were giggling and dancing on their feet in front of Mac.
“Oh my God,” she heard one of them say, “Isn’t he a dish! When I saw him walking on stage... wow!”
“And his grin is soooo cute!” the other cut in excitedly.
“And this uniform. I bet he’s a real hero.”
“He’s a pilot. I’m sure he’s gotta be so tough up in the air. And then he’s got a heart for music, that’s sooo cool!”
Mac could hardly bite back her laughter. They were talking about Harm, not about Robbie Williams!
“He was concentrating so hard when he played. And he was staring in the same direction all the time. I just hope it wasn’t his wife sitting there!” one of them took up the topic that both of them were most interested in.
“His girlfriend would be bad enough,” the other girl complained.
“What do you think is his age?”
“Dunno. Something between 35 and 40?”
“Nah... he’s younger than that. Too cool to be so old.”
Mac couldn’t hold back a snort. Quickly turning, she managed to hide her amusement from them.
“But I wanna know sooo much who he was staring at!” the first one said fiercely.
“Yeah. Me, too.” They were about to be called in next. “I just wish they had printed pictures of the artists in the program,” the second girl sighed, preparing her pen and paper. “Oh, I’d so much hate to learn he’s got a girlfriend! Just who was it he was looking at? And then casting a smile that made my knees turn to jell-o?” The other girl nodded eagerly at this comment.
Mac felt she couldn’t resist any more. “Me,” she stated matter-of-factly as the girls were about to go in. They turned and stared at her as they would at an alien. To prove that she wasn’t kidding, Mac added with a sly smile: “And by the way, he’s 40 and already taken.”
The girls snapped their mouths shut, gulped visibly at the sight of the tall, gorgeous brunette that was addressing them and hurried to get inside the dressing-room as Harm, with a smile that seemed just a little exasperated, led out the elderly lady who had been waiting for a dedication in front of them. Seeing Mac standing next in line, Harm’s eyes lit up for the fraction of a second before being all politeness again for the trembling girls.
As they finally came out, the interval nearing its end, all other admirers who had been in line behind Mac had left. Harm graced the girls with his patented grin and then let his smile grow to a real heartfelt one as Mac stepped to greet him. She gave him a ‘Let’s-make-a-good-show’ grin and he instantly understood.
“Hey, my darling,” he cooed, an irresistible smile sparkling in his eyes. He pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her passionately for the stunned girls to see. So the lady had been right in telling them that he was taken! As the bell announced the beginning of the second part, they turned and reluctantly strolled back into the hall.
“Are they gone?” Harm whispered against Mac’s mouth.
“Yeah,” she replied, never breaking the kiss.
Harm moved backward, dragging her with him into the dressing-room and closing the door behind them. The kiss stretched until they ran out of air.
“You’re wearing me out, Marine,” Harm grinned, leaning his forehead against hers, gasping.
“I’d say our acting was... breathtaking,” Mac commented dryly, deeply inhaling herself.
He drew back and smiled at her, one eyebrow up high. “So your kiss was just part of our little show?”
“’Course,” she replied carelessly. “Don’t overestimate the effect you have on me, squid.”
Their eyes held for some long moments. Then Mac’s mouth twitched, causing Harm to snort and together they broke out laughing, hugging tightly, feeling the tension finally slip away.
“You had me worried all day,” Mac admitted softly when their laughter had quieted down.
Harm gave her a loving grin and, cupping her face, caressed her cheek with his thumb. “I promised I wouldn’t be in any physical danger, right?”
Mac returned his smile. “Yup. And as always I should have known that I could rely on your word. Harm, you played wonderfully. You swept me away.”
Harm felt himself blush. “It was okay, I guess, given the fact that I had four days...”
“Stop denying your success! You know you were great!” Mac slapped him on the chest, smirking.
“Okay, okay,” he held up his hands in defense. “I admit it went very well, but that’s because I had you to inspire me, my favorite Marine.”
“You’re so sweet.” She quickly kissed him on the lips, smiling broadly to hide her emotion. “But tell me one thing: Why didn’t you tell anyone what you were about to do?”
Harm smiled a little sheepishly. “I didn’t want anyone to come with great expectations. And I would have had to explain why I had to fill in and that would have caused new questions and speculations about why I wouldn’t have been able to answer them.”
Mac’s face sobered. “What’s this all about?”
“I don’t know.” Harm sat down on the chair in front of the dressing-table, pulling her to his lap. “The admiral told me the information was classified. Maybe Webb wanted this to be treated with discretion because they suspect something behind the suicide of the person who was supposed to play for the navy.”
“Webb...” Mac sighed, exasperated. “Suicide, right? And who was supposed to stand up for the navy?”
“Classified.”
“Oh bother.”
They sat in silence for some minutes, enjoying their closeness.
“Did I tell you how wonderful you look, Sarah?” He looked up to her with a half-smile.
Mac blushed slightly. “Not yet. But I was hoping you would because I had an artist helping me with my make-up this morning. See it?”
He faked a thoughtfully scrutinizing look. “Yeah, right. Good work.” Then he cast her a king size flyboy-grin.
Mac took her purse and pulled out her wallet, opening it to reveal a black-and-white portrait photo of him that had been taken two years back. “Maestro, would you mind writing me a dedication?”
Wed, May 13th
0012 ZULU
Harm’s apartment
North of Union Station
Washington, D.C.
“Phooo!” Harm shut the door behind Mac’s back, strode over to the kitchen counter, put down the heavy grocery bags he had been carrying and then took off his cover, threw it on a nearby barstool and wiped away the sweat from his forehead. Mac followed close by, relieving herself with a loud ‘thud’ of the weight of a case of mineral-water bottles that she had been carrying. Then she, too, took off her cover and uniform jacket, went to hang them up near the door and bent down to where Harm’s unopened mail was still lying (he had slept at her apartment the previous night) while he was busying himself putting away the groceries.
“Two bills and a letter,” she told him, walking over to him and sitting down on a stool, thankfully accepting the glass of water he handed her with a smile. “Thanks.”
“Drop the bills, who’s the letter from?”
Mac turned it over several times in her hands, frowning. “It’s got no sender’s address on it. Only yours written in type letters. Stamp says New York.” She examined it more closely searching for any hint of dangerous material. Eventually she decided it was safe to open it. “Want me to look inside?”
“Yeah, please, my hands are sticky with tomato juice. The pack must have leaked all the time.” He made a face and began to clean up the traces it had left.
“Okay, here we go.... Harm, look, this is so strange!”
He turned, frowning, to find her looking at – a sheet of music. “Just this?”
“Yes. No words. Just music.”
“Let me see.” He wiped his hands and took the sheet from her hand, examining it closely. Then, without saying anything, he went to the bedroom and returned with his guitar. “Hold the sheet up... yeah, like that, thanks, Mac.”
He studied the pentagrams. “It’s a melody, like in a song without words, and something that seems a guitar accompaniment, actually.” Taking another close look at the lines Harm began to play, yet leaving out the melody.
The piece rang a bell somewhere back in Mac’s mind. She frowned and tried to concentrate on where she had heard it but couldn’t place it. Having finished, Harm looked up to find her thoughtful. “You know the piece, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess, but right now I can’t remember what it was. Do you know it?”
“No. But I’ll play it again and try to hum the melody. Maybe that’ll help you.”
Mac closed her eyes and tried hard to figure out the song’s title. It was a country song, though rather modern, and it had a somewhat urging and quietly menacing sound. She knew it, she was sure of it, but what the hell... “Garth Brooks!” she suddenly blurted out as she finally recognized it. Harm stopped playing somewhere in the middle of the piece and only raised his eyebrows, a huge question mark on his features.
“The song’s called ‘The night will only know’. It’s got rather frightening lyrics. If I only had my CD here with me. Then we might find a hint on what this is all about.” Mac began to pace up and down agitatedly in front of the kitchen counter.
Harm was just as curious as she was. “Tell you something: it’s way too hot for the clothes you have stored at my place, anyway. Why don’t you go home and bring over some summer clothes? There’s still some room for your stuff in my cupboard and you could get the CD as well. In the meantime I’ll cook dinner.”
Mac was already on her way. “Back in a minute!” she yelled before closing the door.
An incredibly short time later Mac let herself back in with her key, wearing a light summer dress and carrying her uniform and some light garments in a laundry basket. On top lay the CD.
“Hey, a fairy just came to visit,” Harm said with a smile when her dress caught his eyes.
“Just felt like celebrating the first real hot day of the season,” she replied, putting the CD into the stereo. Harm immediately recognized the song as the piece from his letter and, beginning from the second stanza, the lyrics slowly made the hair on the back of his neck stand up ever more.
That night will live forever
Their first time to lie together
They were finally where desire dared them to go
Both belonging to another
But longing to be lovers
Promising each other that the night will only know
Parked on some old back-street
They laid down in the back seat
And fell into the fire down below
But they would pay for their deceiving
For a deadly web was weaving
Why they picked that spot that evening
Lord, the night will only know
Well within the innuendos
Just outside the steamy windows
The night was shattered by a woman’s scream
Motionless and frightened
The grip of fate had tightened
And with trembling hands they wiped away the steam
They saw a woman pleading
Stumbling, begging and retreating
‘Til she became the victim of her foe
And they watched her fall in silence
To save their own alliance
But the reason for the violence
Just the night will only know
And every paper ran the story
She was stripped of all her glory
And they told exactly how the woman died
Abandoned and forsaken
Too many pills were taken
And they ruled the woman’s death a suicide
Bound by their behavior
They could have been her savior
Now guilt becomes the endless debt they owe
But another crime was committed
And it’s never been admitted
Have the guilty been acquitted
Lord, the night will only know
“Suicide,” Mac whispered, letting the booklet that she had been following the lyrics in slowly sink to her lap.
Harm had visibly paled as the song had revealed its dreadful story. He, too, had at once understood the connection it held with the charity concert. “Someone seems to think it wasn’t,” he replied slowly.
“Or someone knows,” Mac added, “And feels this is the only way to speak for whatever reason.”
Harm took the letter and examined it yet another time. Nothing, no words, no hints, no signs except the music. “There’s got to be some indication to I don’t know what on this thing,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair. He scrutinized every note... and suddenly had a suspicion.
“Mac, I didn’t finish playing it when you had found out what it was. I think I just noted something interesting in the melody line near the end. You familiar with the morse code?”
Mac looked up from the booklet in surprise. “I’m a Marine, Harm. Why?”
Harm intensely studied the paper. “Write down the rhythm I’ll knock on the counter and tell me if it makes any sense. It’s in the last few bars and musically it just doesn’t make any sense. Far too many little notes.”
Mac took a pen and a piece of paper and noted what Harm was reading in the rhythm, being able to make out the end of each letter by a pause written in the melody.
“.-- / . / -.. / .---- / ...-- / ----- / ..... / ----- / ----- / .-. / .--- / .- / --. / .... / --.-“
“Harm,” she gasped when she understood the meaning of the encoded message, “Someone wants to meet you.”
“What?” he asked, incredulous, as he put down his guitar and bent over her shoulder to read for himself. “WED130500RJAGHQ,” he murmured slowly, feeling his stomach tighten. “You’re right, Mac. Whoever wrote this wants to meet me tomorrow morning at 0500 ROMEO at JAG Headquarters. He or she must have been sure I could figure this out.”
“They probably saw you play on TV and understood you could read music,” she guessed, “Well, we’d better go and find out who it is and what he or she wants.”
“Wait a minute, Mac,” Harm ventured, frowning, inwardly preparing himself for the discussion that he was sure would follow. “I’m going, not you. This letter was directed to me. I’m sure the sender wants to meet me alone.”
Mac stubbornly crossed her arms in front of her chest. “No way. Someone’s got to be there to watch your six, flyboy. I’m coming. Damn sure I am.”
“Mac...”
“Don’t ‘Mac’ me, Harm. My mind is made up.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” He sighed, knowing she wouldn’t give in and secretly loving her for this trait of her character. “Okay, you win. But stay hidden in the car and come out only if necessary. Can we come to an agreement on these grounds?”
She smiled, enjoying her victory. “Alright for me. Now let’s eat that risotto you made and get some sleep. We gotta get up early, you know, squid?”
“Aye, ma’am,” he chuckled, going to get the steaming bowl.
Wed, May 13th
0959 ZULU
JAG Headquarters
Falls Church, VA
Harm slowly pulled into the parking lot, glancing around for any hints of someone who might be waiting for him. He was in dark sweats, his sidearm ready to be pulled out from the waistband at his back. Mac, dressed in black, was lying in the back of the car, her weapon in her hands. Harm shut down the motor and exited the car. Crouched low on the back seat, Mac watched him walk up slowly in the direction of the entrance. But just before he came into sight for the guards she saw him stop and turn his head as if he were listening. She felt a shiver creep over her back. ‘Please, God, don’t let anything happen to him,’ she silently prayed, clutching her gun more firmly still.
Harm wasn’t sure if he had been wrong but as he stood perfectly still and listened, he heard it again. Someone was very softly whistling ‘The night will only know’. He turned in the direction that the sound came from and made sure he was always walking within Mac’s sight. Then he saw a small figure emerge from the shadows of a tree. He stopped and waited. The other figure very slowly approached him, hands held up as if to say ‘Don’t shoot, I just want to talk.’ When the person was only a few feet away Harm, to his astonishment, noted that it was a young woman, maybe even a girl still, petite and fragile-looking. Harm could tell that she was frightened to death.
“Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr.?” she asked in a whisper, her voice shaking.
“Yes,” he said very low. Did she fear that they were watched by someone?
“Oh my God, I’m so glad to see you, sir,” she whispered. He could tell she was at the verge of crying with relief.
“Who are you?”
“Cadet Jeannine Stiller, sir, from Dwayne Myers Naval College, New York.”
“Wait a minute,” he whispered incredulously, “You came all the way from New York to see me in the middle of the night?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you so much for coming. There’s no one with you, right?”
Harm began to feel pity for the young girl. “No, I’m alone.”
“Let’s walk around a little while we talk, please, sir. I’m not sure if I’ve been followed.”
“All right,” Harm said, signaling to Mac behind his back that he thought the situation was safe. “Tell me, Cadet Stiller, what’s this all about?”
“Sir, I saw you on TV, the concert, you know. I’m sure you know whom you’ve been filling in for, right?”
Harm was getting curious. “Actually I don’t. All I know is that whoever it was committed suicide.” He saw the girl wince at the last word.
“No, sir, she didn’t.” Her voice was barely audible.
Stopping short in his tracks, Harm asked: “She, Cadet?”
Forcing him to go on by never slowing down her pace, Stiller answered: “Yes, sir. Cadet Meryl Waters, second year, my roommate. She was supposed to play the second movement of Mozart’s clarinet concerto at the charity event.” She couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. Without thinking Harm embraced the trembling girl and let her cry for some moments until she quieted. Then Stiller stepped back, sniffing embarrassedly. “I’m sorry, sir, I sincerely apologize for my behavior.”
“Apology accepted, Cadet. What makes you think Cadet Waters didn’t commit suicide?” he ventured carefully.
“I saw it, sir.”
“Saw what?”
“How he... the man... he made her swallow something. She didn’t want to. She struggled, sir, she cried. She begged but he succeeded. She almost instantly fell to the ground in convulsions and then she stopped moving...” Stiller tried to suppress a sob but it came out nevertheless. Harm put a reassuring hand on the poor girl’s shoulder. She gave a start but then slowly relaxed.
“Could you see him, Cadet?”
“No, it was dark, sir. They were on the parking lot at the back of the college, sir. And we... I... well, I was in a car with...”
“Your boyfriend?” Harm was careful to keep his voice as neutral as possible.
“Yeah,” she admitted, leaving out the rest. “My... boyfriend had to go away and I got out of the car. He drove away and I walked back to the campus’s back door. The parking lot has two parts, you know, rectangular to one another. When I walked around the corner I saw them. The only thing I could make out was that she seemed to know him. When Meryl was... dead he would look up and see me standing there. Sir, I was like... frozen. He had his face covered. And he...” she gulped visibly and went on barely whispering, “He started to come in my direction. Sir, I only ran until I reached my dorm. I bolted my door and cried all night.”
“Why didn’t you call the police or tell anyone?”
“I don’t know, sir,” she girl sobbed, “At first I was too scared to move and the next day the letters started.”
“What letters?”
“Anonymous letters, sir. They were menacing me, saying they could get to me wherever I went. And the letters held detailed schedules of what I was supposed to be doing during the day and where and what I’d done in between the day before. Sir, I don’t know how they get the information but they seem to follow my every move. I brought you one letter, sir.” She handed him an envelope.
“So why did you come here, Cadet? And how do you know they won’t get to you on your way back?”
“I read an article about you on ZBS.com, sir, after the concert. And I knew if there was one person who could possibly help me it would be you, sir. I had figured that with them knowing of my every move I wouldn’t be able to leave the college during the day or to make phone calls. Thinking of what I’d seen, the Garth Brooks song came to my mind and I knew you’d figure it out. But if the letter would get into the wrong hands maybe they wouldn’t know what it was supposed to mean. I wasn’t sure of that but I felt it was my only option. My boyfriend is a computer crack, sir. He once showed me how to leave traces on the Internet for someone else to find. I’m sure whoever writes to me knows how it works but they surely don’t suspect me to know as well. So I managed to get a message to my boyfriend who sent you the music, sir. And he arranged for me to be smuggled outside the college by a friend of his who does grocery deliveries. We drove all night and he dropped me off here. He’ll come and get me in,” she glanced at her watch, “Six minutes exactly. I’ve got lessons only at 1400 today, so I locked my door and hope they think I’m in, sleeping. People leave me pretty much alone since Meryl’s death so I hope they won’t notice I’m missing. Please, sir,” she urgently begged him, “Help me and find out who did this to her and why.”
Harm had listened in unbelieving silence. This girl was obviously going through hell. “Do you have any idea why someone would want to kill Cadet Waters?”
“Not really, sir. She just told me that she had found out something and it seemed to trouble her very much. She wanted to tell me when I got back, the evening she was murdered. She was a rather thorough person. I’m sure there’s somewhere she has written down or recorded what she found but I didn’t find it yet. After the police ruled Meryl’s death a case of suicide, knowing she had emotional problems – she’s... was a talented artist but her family didn’t want her to become a musician, you know – they left her things packed in cases until her family who lives in Oregon would come to get them at the end of the term. Sir, will you please, please help me?” she repeated, at the verge of crying again.
“I’ll have to tell your story to some people,” he began and at her shocked expression quickly reassured her, “But it will only be my closest co-workers and my C.O. After all, he must consent to my investigating. Don’t worry, Cadet, I have an excellent working relationship with the admiral. If I tell him I’m sure he’ll understand the situation. And my co-workers are the only people in the world whom I would trust with my own life. Be assured of their secrecy. Anyway, we’ll have help for you on the way ASAP. I promise, Cadet Stiller. Just you promise me to stick to your friends and never pull stunts like this again until you notice you’re being helped, okay? This is meant to be an order.”
“Aye, sir,” the girl sobbed with relief. Just then a grocery van slowly neared the entrance to the parking lot, the driver seeming to study a map, casually pulling to a halt on the sidewalk.
“Thank you eternally, sir,” Stiller whispered and carefully walked over to the waiting van that drove on instantly as soon as she had climbed up in the back.
Harm stood on the parking lot, staring after the fading rear lights. He needed a couple of minutes to fully digest the situation that he had just been dumped in. Then he slowly walked over to his SUV where Mac was anxiously waiting for him to return, having watched his exchange with the stranger.
“My God, sailor,” she said, concern showing on her face, as he climbed on board. “You look terrible.”
“I feel terrible, Mac,” was the little reassuring answer she got.
“What’s up? Tell me,” she urged him.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You got your cell-phone, Mac?”
“Sure. Why?”
“I’ll tell you everything on the way back. But now, please, get me Webb on the phone, will you?”
“’Course.” Mac speed-dialed Webb’s secret number, inwardly determining not to wonder about anything that might come up now.
To be continued...
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