Title: 'People vs. Chegwidden' - Part Three
Author: Daenar
Disclaimer: See Part One
From part two:
Singer's mouth showed the thinnest of cynical smiles. "I suppose you're surprised that I did, sir. Actually, I'm surprised myself. But I did attend the Academy once, too, Commander, and I haven't been as completely unreceptive to the Code of Honor as you may think. The admiral may not like me. But he's always been fair. And, frankly, I don't think he did kill Doctor Walden. So I won't be the means of some personal revenge crusade that some navy captain unknown to me seems to want to pull against him. And his defense counsels, for that matter."
Harm had to admit he was impressed. He could tell from Singer's expression that, had the person in question been someone else, she would immediately have taken the opportunity to advance her career. But she seemed to value the admiral as a just person and obviously didn't like the idea of being used for ulterior, personal motives of whoever it was who took the prosecution. 'Wait a minute,' he suddenly told himself, 'A captain? She? A personal revenge crusade against certain members of this office? It couldn't be...' He sat up straight in his chair and locked his gaze with Singer's.
"What was the name of the captain who called you, Lieutenant?"
"Captain Allison Krennick, sir."
Part Three:
Tue, Feb. 16th 1534 ZULU Walden residence
Yellow tape, reading 'Police - do not cross', was fluttering in the strong wind. The police had secured a vast area all around Sydney Walden's house. The street where she lived had been blocked, keeping out any onlookers and any journalists, too, which was fortunate as the case had already begun to attract public attention. The U.S. Navy's JAG arrested for murder - ratings had gone up for the news networks ever since word of the affair had leaked out.
The clouds hanging over Harm were just as thick and gray as the ones currently coming in from the north, telling of a nearing blizzard. Harm carefully steered the navy blue JAG sedan through the crowd of zealous reporters, keeping the windows shut tightly. No way would he issue a single comment right now.
The whole of yesterday afternoon and a good part of the evening he and Mac had spent reading Daniel Walden's service record, the process files of his drug-dealing trial, information about the background of his former friends, general information about the latest developments on the narcotics market, everything. They had had long and frustrating telephone conversations with the police investigators, trying every possible way to come up with an idea of where to look for further evidence, but it all came to nothing. No traces, no clues, nothing on the list of telephone calls Sydney or Danny, who was on leave right now, had made, no unusual developments or events connected to Sydney's medical practice or to her or Danny's financial situation. Danny's service record still remained clean even after triple scrutiny. The seemingly obvious solution to this case was that the admiral had killed her - at least according to the DCPD.
They had tried to find out what Sydney might have wanted to tell AJ. Harm had gone to her practice and questioned all the nurses. None of them had the slightest idea of what the nature of her news might have been. And none of them had even noticed that she might have been troubled by something. She seemed to have concealed it well. Without much hope, he and Mac would now try to find something in her house, although it had already been searched several times by the local investigators. Webb was in Afghanistan and out of reach. Damn. Of course, he would have to be gone the one time they really needed him.
And then there was Krennick. 'Captain' Krennick. Harm frowned. Sure, she had always been his superior in rank, but somehow he couldn't help wondering how on earth a disagreeable person like her would succeed in getting herself promoted. It couldn't have been for outstanding professional success. He'd have heard about that. Opposing her in court would be difficult, though. He was the more skilled lawyer, matched only by his wife, but Krennick was cunning and potentially dangerous. She tended to have aces hidden up her sleeve. At least this time he would be spared her non-too-subtle personal approaches. Harm cast a quick look at his left hand on the steering wheel. The thin gold band on his fourth finger still amazed him every time he saw it. The hint of a smile for a moment softened the lines on his forehead. Everything seemed half as hard to endure if you knew you had Sarah Mackenzie at your side.
"Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie-Rabb and Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., from the JAG corps," Harm told the policeman at the cordon, showing him their IDs. "We're Admiral Chegwidden's defense counselors." If the policeman was astonished to see that one of the lawyers was obviously very pregnant, he didn't show it. He let them pass, shooing off the reporters that, for the present, had to be content to have at least caught the names of the defendant's attorneys. And they were married. Might be worth the while to do a little research on the admiral's and his officers' personal background. Family stories always worked well.
Harm parked the car in front of the house and quickly went to help his wife get out. He was glad that Mac had somehow overcome her stubborn Marine pride after the insulin attack she had suffered back at the naval college. The few dreadful moments of insecurity, not knowing if her child would live, had taught her to accept the help of others for the sake of her daughter. So, whenever Harm would now offer her a hand or an arm to help her get up, sit down or anything, she would always take it and give him a grateful smile in return. And Harm was glad to be able to play the gallant knight. But he also knew that, in a few weeks' time, it would all be over. As soon as their daughter would be born, he was sure that Mac would instantly take up her stubborn Semper-Fi attitude again. The same stubborn Semper-Fi attitude he had fallen in love with so many years ago.
They entered the house and were at once greeted by a tall man in a dark suit. "Colonel, Commander, I am Special Agent Colin Spearman, FBI. I'm conducting this investigation."
Harm and Mac exchanged a surprised glance. The Feds? "Cmdr. Harmon Rabb, Jr., JAG corps. And this is my partner, Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie-Rabb," Harm introduced them.
Spearman cast a quick glance at Mac's maternity uniform and then at the wedding bands the officers wore. Then he looked up and flashed them a puzzled, but sincere smile. "Congratulations."
With his most charming flyboy-grin, Harm simply replied: "Thank you, Agent Spearman." And the topic was passed over.
"Tell me, Agent Spearman," Mac spoke up, curious, "When did the Bureau take over? And why?"
"When your husband called the PD yesterday and informed them about a possible connection to drug-trafficking and dealing, the investigators decided to contact us, ma'am," Spearman explained. "Although we still can't establish any hints between the actual case and the Daniel Walden trial by now," he added, casting an almost excusing look in Harm's direction. "But if you would like to take a look around... maybe you can find something that we didn't." He didn't sound too convinced.
Mac turned to follow Spearman upstairs whereas Harm decided to examine the ground floor. He knelt down as he reached a spot where the carpet was covered with large stains of dried blood and footprints that he easily recognized as the admiral's. Few people in D.C. wore original Italian Valleverde shoes. After a moment, a shadow fell over him. He looked up and willed himself to refrain from groaning.
"Hello Commander. Nice to see you again. It's been too long." Allison Krennick's smile hadn't changed for the better. It still seemed calculated and threatening.
Harm rose and came to attention. "Captain..."
"At ease. So, you and your partner are storming to the rescue of your friend?" She gave him a small, not unfriendly, pitying frown. "Might very well turn out to be a hopeless case."
"I don't think so, ma'am," Harm answered evenly.
Krennick moved a little closer and lowered her voice. "It might depend on the negotiating qualities of the admiral's lawyers."
Inwardly swearing, Harm still managed to smile. He wouldn't be impolite. But if he had to be direct, he sure as hell would. Bless Mac for her excellent timing. At that very moment she descended the stairs again and, with a smile that everyone except Harm would have judged brilliant, neared the two navy officers and came to attention.
"Captain Krennick, ma'am."
"At ease." Krennick let her gaze wander openly up and down Mac's body. "I guess congratulations are in order, Colonel," she stated in a guarded voice.
"Thank you, ma'am." Mac's smile never faltered. Harm tried hard to hide his grin.
"Well, who is the lucky one?" Krennick smugly winked at her, casting Harm a quick See-other-people-aren't-as-stiff-as-you glance.
At this Harm stepped up to Mac and put his arm around her shoulders. "Captain, I guess you already know my wife, Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie-Rabb?"
Krennick's eyes popped open for a fraction of a second but she quickly controlled her reaction. "Yes, I do. Only that I wasn't aware that you were married. On the file it only read 'Mackenzie'. Well, Colonel, seems you've tamed the lone pirate. My compliments. Harm..." With a nod to both of them, she quickly turned and went to find Spearman.
Having saluted the captain, Harm gave his wife a quick loving smile. She returned it, squeezing his hand. Then they turned back to business.
"Did you find anything upstairs?"
"No. Seems Sydney didn't keep many things in her bedroom. Mostly clothes and a few toiletteries. No documents. Danny's room is practically empty. He only sleeps there and keeps his belongings on the Coral Sea. I don't think football equipment and old toys are what we're looking for. The third room's a guestroom. Nothing to see. And you?"
Harm sighed. "Nothing down here. I was just examining the bloodstains when Krennick appeared. If you take a look at the kitchen and the living room, I'll go over the folders on her desk in the little home studio," he proposed.
"Okay with me." Mac disappeared into the kitchen and Harm went over to Sydney's desk to lower himself on the chair and open the drawers.
Two hours later they were on their way back to Arlington. Harm wanted to drop Mac off at home, leaving her safely on the sofa, legs up, a cup of tea by her side and lots and lots of pages he had found in Sydney's desk for her to read. Harm didn't really expect that Mac would find anything in the files he had taken with him. But as she hadn't been able to discover any hints, either, on what must have troubled their CO's former girlfriend, the documents were their final thread of hope. Both officers were rather silent; frustration and worry once again clouding their good humor. Suddenly, Mac's cell-phone rang. Frowning, she attached it to the car's intercom and flipped it open.
"Rabb."
"Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie-Rabb? This is Kimberly Archer, 'People' Magazine. Colonel, our readers remember you and the commander from our news coverage regarding the Dwayne Myers band concert at Carnegie Hall. They are keenly interested in the Chegwidden affair and in how you and Cmdr. Rabb deal with the situation that must be hard for you, especially in your state. We would like to set a date for an exclusive interview with the two of you, say, next week?"
Mac and Harm exchanged a quick, incredulous stare. How on earth had that woman gotten Mac's private cell-phone number? Surely Tiner had been fooled by some make-believe explanation, stressing the importance of reaching the colonel.
"Colonel? Are you still with me?" Kimberly Archer was getting a little impatient as the silence lingered on.
"Uhm... yeah." Mac cleared her throat. "Miss Archer, we..."
She didn't get any further. The journalist, probably smiling widely and signaling 'thumbs up' to her colleagues, cut in. "Great. So, what do you say? How about Monday? That would leave us another two days for a few nice cover photos."
"Miss Archer..." Mac tried to be patient.
"We could also do it all in one day if that's more convenient for you. I could drop by at your house with my photographer so people would get a nice impression, too, of how you live."
"Excuse me, Miss Archer, but..." Mac's articulation was decidedly more pointed this time but the reporter went on, obviously not even noticing that the subject of her article had something to say.
"So I guess, we'd have to schedule our meeting for the evening, so your husband's at home, right? We could..."
"I beg your pardon!!!" Mac yelled in boot-camp voice, causing the joyful babble to stop immediately. Mac earned herself an appreciative flyboy-grin as she went on, very calmly, very clearly and deadly serious. "Miss Archer, I don't know how you've come by this number but let me point out a few facts to you. First: my husband and I are 'not' interested in any interviews whatsoever. Second: the way you drag people's private lives into public while - or worse, because - one of the Navy's finest officers is fighting unjust charges is simply disgusting. And third: don't - you - ever - dare - call - this - number - again!! Do I make myself clear??" Harm grinned as he imagined the journalist holding her cell-phone at a two-feet distance from her ear, wincing.
"You did indeed, ma'am," came the very quiet answer.
"Fine. Have a nice day, Miss Archer," Mac said in a honeyed voice and, grinning, snapped the cell-phone shut.
"You could have made an appointment and then shot her, you know..." Harm chuckled softly.
"I'm one of the impatient kind," Mac replied with a lopsided grin.
"Thanks for reminding me."
For a while they rode on in silence. Mac from the corner of her eye looked over at her husband. His concern showed clearly on his face, from the frown on his forehead to his narrowed eyes and the thin line of his tightly set mouth. She sighed.
"Any ideas what we tell Judge Helfman tomorrow morning?"
"No."
"I'll go over all those pages until you come home. I'll have them done when you get back," she offered, wanting to ease his worries. Not that she didn't share them, far from it. She was extremely worried about the case. But her Marine shell would at least prevent her from being eaten up alive by her fears. Harm, on the other hand, was at the verge of plunging himself into the matter so deeply that he once again threatened to drown in it. Like with his father. Like with Darlyn Lewis. Like he maybe would have with her own trial or with Sergei's case, had the matters not been resolved relatively quickly. It was in his character to overstep the boundaries of his own strength if anyone he cared about was involved. And it was a trait of his personality that she deeply loved, although it scared her.
He echoed her sigh. "Thanks, Mac. Let's hope there's something in it."
Her heart ached, hearing the sadness in his voice.
Wed, Feb. 17th 1357 ZULU JAG Headquarters Falls Church, VA
Admiral Chegwidden nervously wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, then squared his shoulders and tightly smiled at his attorneys. "Let's get it over with, guys."
Harm and Mac exchanged a quick, uneasy glance that didn't go unnoticed by AJ. "Pull yourself together!" he rumbled in a low voice and added with the same strained smile: "I know there isn't much to be said in my favor right now. I don't expect the impossible." He shrugged, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "In a few weeks, when it gets to the actual trial, you'll hopefully have dug up something substantial, right?" It was meant to be a joke, but it failed to make the officers smile. A low, sad "Aye, sir." was his only answer. He frowned, but thought it better not to say anything.
AJ wasn't aware that not even one of the four-hundred-plus pages that Harm and Mac had taken home from Sydney's desk had given them so much as the hint to a hint about who might be involved in the affair. Mac, true to her word, had been finished examining them when Harm had returned from the office the day before. But he'd only had to look into her huge, incredibly sad eyes to get the answer to his unspoken question if she would be able to give them hope. Silently she had stepped up to him and embraced him tightly.
None of them had had the heart yet to tell their CO of their newest failure. They could still do it after the hearing when they would talk about a strategy for the court-martial. By now, none of them doubted that there would be one.
"Okay, let's go," Harm finally agreed as the bailiff opened the huge oak doors and they stepped into the courtroom.
The whole JAG office had to be deserted as all of their coworkers were quietly sitting in the audience. Lt. Singer was the only one among them that somehow managed to look relaxed. But even she wore a sober expression on her face. Harriet was chewing her lower lip and tightly holding on to Bud's arm. Fred was subconsciously folding and unfolding his handkerchief over and over again in his lap until Sturgis laid a gentle but firm hand on his arm. Mattoni was staring at the prosecution desk, barely able to contain his anger about seeing Krennick sit there, quietly arranging her files.
Next to the captain was sitting a young man that had earlier been presented to them as Lieutenant Melvin Hobbes, of the Great Lakes JAG office. A quick call to Carolyn Imes had informed Harm - and the rest of the staff that had been listening to the loudspeaker - that Hobbes, like Harm, was an ex-pilot turned lawyer. Only that his change of designator had been of his own free will. He had, at some point, come to the conclusion, that being a lawyer might turn out to be an easier life. Nevertheless, he was still in full possession of his flyboy ego and, being a good-looking, blond giant, displayed an amount of self-confidence that Mac found disturbing and Harm considered plain disgusting. He himself had never been like that, had he?
Upon announcement, all rose as Judge Amy Helfman and her staff entered the courtroom, looking grave and somehow uncomfortable. Mac noticed that, unlike her usual easy attitude, the judge stuck strictly to protocol and only looked up when it was necessary. As the preliminaries were dealt with, she turned her attention to Krennick and requested the captain to bring forth her charges.
Exchanging a quick, confident smile with Hobbes, Krennick rose, let her gaze quickly meet Harm's, and walked in front. "This case is plainly obvious. When it goes to trial, prosecution will prove that Rear Admiral AJ Chegwidden, JAG of the Navy, on Sunday, February 14th, went to see his former girlfriend, Doctor Sydney Walden, assaulted her in her house and killed her. We have the testimony of her son, P.O. Daniel Walden, who confirms that the admiral had previously interfered in their lives and that Doctor Walden feared seeing him. And P.O. Walden furthermore claims to have dissuaded his mother from contacting him in a certain matter yet unknown to all parties, as he fully shared her concerns regarding the admiral. We have evidence at hand that Admiral Chegwidden had indeed been in the victim's house at the time of her death. Her son testifies to having witnessed seeing his mother die in the admiral's presence. We have the admiral's fingerprints on the murder weapon, no other fingerprints were found. We have a police statement that says that Doctor Walden must have known her assaulter and admitted him to her house. We can prove that the admiral and Doctor Walden did not end their relationship on friendly terms and that he has been observing P.O. Walden's career in the Navy carefully ever since. Therefore, prosecution maintains that it is necessary to press murder charges against Admiral Chegwidden and to convene a court-martial against him."
Casting one last satisfied look in the direction of the defense, Krennick nodded at Judge Helfman and returned to her seat. The judge turned her attention to Harm who now rose and stepped in front.
"Your honor, if this case should go to trial, our defendant will proclaim himself not guilty. It is true that he went to see Doctor Walden at the time of her tragic death but he did it because she had asked him to come and meet her. Admiral Chegwidden and Sydney Walden had been completely disconnected for several years by the time the murder occurred. Therefore their private lives cannot be considered a motive for this crime. AJ Chegwidden did not murder the doctor." Knowing he had to stick to the hard facts, Harm swallowed the fiery defense discourse that his mind urged him to make, and turned to sit down. But he was interrupted by the judge's voice.
Knowing well that for an Article-32 hearing her interference might be a little unorthodox, Captain Amy Helfman couldn't refrain from speaking up. Incredulous, she had listened to the commander's weak attempts to establish a defense. This was by no means the Harmon Rabb she knew. She had been glad to hear that Rabb and Mackenzie had taken the JAG's defense, knowing that if there were anyone who could get him out of this mess, it would be the HQ wonder team. But what on earth had happened to their faculties? Judge Helfman knew that the commander and the colonel had to be aware that their strategy - if there was one - wasn't worth the paper it was written on. But what had really shaken her was the expression of defeat and resignation that she had detected in the eyes of the tall officer and his partner who were known to her as two of the toughest fighters on earth. If even those two had already given up the fight...
"Commander?"
Harm stopped short and turned, noticing at once the barely hidden concern in the judge's voice. "Your honor?"
"Do you have witnesses who confirm that Doctor Walden called the admiral?" Judge Helfman felt strange in the role of the investigator but she couldn't just let the commander walk away.
"The whole JAG office witnessed him receive a call, ma'am." Harm had immediately understood what the judge was trying to do. He bit his lip to refrain from yelling at her that whatever she would come up with would lead to nothing but frustration. So he just waited and concentrated on his breathing, willing himself to keep his rage in check.
The judge sighed. "Did anyone overhear the admiral actually talking to Doctor Walden?"
"No, ma'am."
"Did the admiral mention to anyone that he was about to go to Doctor Walden?"
"No, ma'am."
"Does the admiral's cell-phone show that Doctor Walden called?"
"The call was made from a public payphone, ma'am."
"Is there anything the defense might want to add?"
"No, your honor."
Judge Helfman closed her eyes for a brief moment after Harm's monotone answers, sighing. Then she resolutely grabbed the gavel and looked at the congregation.
"Take your place, Commander. A court-martial will be convened regarding the murder charges against Rear Admiral AJ Chegwidden. The date will be set in a few weeks' time. Taking into consideration the gravity of the crime in question, the accused will remain in custody. Court is in recess." The gavel fell so vigorously that it broke upon impact. Judge Helfman frowned, rose and left the courtroom.
"See you soon, Commander, Colonel," was all that AJ said gruffly as the guards were about to accompany him out of the courtroom.
"Aye, sir." Mac's hand sought Harm's as she tried to steady her voice. Then she left the room together with her colleagues, knowing that Harm wanted a minute to himself.
Harm let himself fall onto his chair, letting out his breath and burying his face in his hands, supporting his head by resting his elbows on the table before him. Like this, he just sat there for three whole minutes, trying to come to terms with this nightmare. The quiet solitude of the deserted courtroom slowly helped him to calm down. Suddenly, the sound of a voice made him jump.
"I told you it wasn't going to work, Commander." Allison Krennick shut the door behind herself and walked up to Harm's table. Sighing, he pulled himself up and came to attention.
"Ma'am..."
"At ease." She frowned. "Oh, come on, Harm, there's no one here. Drop the formalities."
"Aye, ma'am." He folded his arms in front of his chest, waiting.
"You are pretty desperate, right?" Her words were open and sincere. Harm thought he would have felt more at ease had she been gloating over his defeat.
"Yes." Unemotional honesty might work, he decided.
Krennick stepped closer, lowering her voice. "We might be able to work out a deal, though, if your client cooperates."
Stiffening, Harm warily eyed the blond captain. She was good-looking, he had to admit. And it was clear that she knew it. He tried not to let his anger rise. He was married, damn it! Didn't that mean anything to her?
"I don't see any room for negotiations, ma'am."
Krennick lightly put her hand on Harm's arm, looking up to him. "Oh, I do. I could explain my ideas to you in private. I'm sure your wife, in her state, needs to rest a lot and would even be glad to have her husband leave her in peace for a little while."
Harm felt his hand clench the lapel of his uniform jacket as he tried to stay calm. "My wife happens to sit second chair," was the only thing he said.
Krennick frowned slightly and decided to try the direct approach. Rabb was a pilot. He had always been flattered by female attention. A fighter pilot never let an easy prey slip away. Not even a wedding band could change that. "You could always inform her about any deals once they are made. Negotiating is your prerogative as primary defense counsel. And..." Krennick let her voice drop an octave, stepping still closer to him, "You might thank me for providing you with an opportunity to get a break from female pregnancy roller-coaster and to have some of the fun you must have been missing for some time now." She invitingly raised one eyebrow.
Fuming, Harm grabbed his folders, tugged them tightly under his arm and raised himself to full height. He hated having to answer anything to her bold request, especially as their private lives were of no one else's concern, let alone Krennick's. But he had to be plain, once and for all. His stare might have stabbed the female officer when he calmly replied.
"I have been married for more than half a year now, ma'am. Very happily married. My wife is the most extraordinary woman I have ever met in my whole life and she means everything to me. I am missing nothing whatsoever and, with all due respect, Captain: should you feel inclined to engage into any social contact with a pilot turned lawyer, you might want to consider turning to Lt. Hobbes. May I be dismissed?"
Krennick's stare had turned as angry as his own. "Dismissed, Commander." Her words were sharp and cold. Harm turned and walked out of the courtroom, knowing well that the situation hadn't become any easier for their CO just now.
The blond captain watched as the object of her hidden desires left the room. 'Damn you, Mackenzie,' she silently swore.
To be continued... (Feedback always appreciated!)
From part two:
Singer's mouth showed the thinnest of cynical smiles. "I suppose you're surprised that I did, sir. Actually, I'm surprised myself. But I did attend the Academy once, too, Commander, and I haven't been as completely unreceptive to the Code of Honor as you may think. The admiral may not like me. But he's always been fair. And, frankly, I don't think he did kill Doctor Walden. So I won't be the means of some personal revenge crusade that some navy captain unknown to me seems to want to pull against him. And his defense counsels, for that matter."
Harm had to admit he was impressed. He could tell from Singer's expression that, had the person in question been someone else, she would immediately have taken the opportunity to advance her career. But she seemed to value the admiral as a just person and obviously didn't like the idea of being used for ulterior, personal motives of whoever it was who took the prosecution. 'Wait a minute,' he suddenly told himself, 'A captain? She? A personal revenge crusade against certain members of this office? It couldn't be...' He sat up straight in his chair and locked his gaze with Singer's.
"What was the name of the captain who called you, Lieutenant?"
"Captain Allison Krennick, sir."
Part Three:
Tue, Feb. 16th 1534 ZULU Walden residence
Yellow tape, reading 'Police - do not cross', was fluttering in the strong wind. The police had secured a vast area all around Sydney Walden's house. The street where she lived had been blocked, keeping out any onlookers and any journalists, too, which was fortunate as the case had already begun to attract public attention. The U.S. Navy's JAG arrested for murder - ratings had gone up for the news networks ever since word of the affair had leaked out.
The clouds hanging over Harm were just as thick and gray as the ones currently coming in from the north, telling of a nearing blizzard. Harm carefully steered the navy blue JAG sedan through the crowd of zealous reporters, keeping the windows shut tightly. No way would he issue a single comment right now.
The whole of yesterday afternoon and a good part of the evening he and Mac had spent reading Daniel Walden's service record, the process files of his drug-dealing trial, information about the background of his former friends, general information about the latest developments on the narcotics market, everything. They had had long and frustrating telephone conversations with the police investigators, trying every possible way to come up with an idea of where to look for further evidence, but it all came to nothing. No traces, no clues, nothing on the list of telephone calls Sydney or Danny, who was on leave right now, had made, no unusual developments or events connected to Sydney's medical practice or to her or Danny's financial situation. Danny's service record still remained clean even after triple scrutiny. The seemingly obvious solution to this case was that the admiral had killed her - at least according to the DCPD.
They had tried to find out what Sydney might have wanted to tell AJ. Harm had gone to her practice and questioned all the nurses. None of them had the slightest idea of what the nature of her news might have been. And none of them had even noticed that she might have been troubled by something. She seemed to have concealed it well. Without much hope, he and Mac would now try to find something in her house, although it had already been searched several times by the local investigators. Webb was in Afghanistan and out of reach. Damn. Of course, he would have to be gone the one time they really needed him.
And then there was Krennick. 'Captain' Krennick. Harm frowned. Sure, she had always been his superior in rank, but somehow he couldn't help wondering how on earth a disagreeable person like her would succeed in getting herself promoted. It couldn't have been for outstanding professional success. He'd have heard about that. Opposing her in court would be difficult, though. He was the more skilled lawyer, matched only by his wife, but Krennick was cunning and potentially dangerous. She tended to have aces hidden up her sleeve. At least this time he would be spared her non-too-subtle personal approaches. Harm cast a quick look at his left hand on the steering wheel. The thin gold band on his fourth finger still amazed him every time he saw it. The hint of a smile for a moment softened the lines on his forehead. Everything seemed half as hard to endure if you knew you had Sarah Mackenzie at your side.
"Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie-Rabb and Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., from the JAG corps," Harm told the policeman at the cordon, showing him their IDs. "We're Admiral Chegwidden's defense counselors." If the policeman was astonished to see that one of the lawyers was obviously very pregnant, he didn't show it. He let them pass, shooing off the reporters that, for the present, had to be content to have at least caught the names of the defendant's attorneys. And they were married. Might be worth the while to do a little research on the admiral's and his officers' personal background. Family stories always worked well.
Harm parked the car in front of the house and quickly went to help his wife get out. He was glad that Mac had somehow overcome her stubborn Marine pride after the insulin attack she had suffered back at the naval college. The few dreadful moments of insecurity, not knowing if her child would live, had taught her to accept the help of others for the sake of her daughter. So, whenever Harm would now offer her a hand or an arm to help her get up, sit down or anything, she would always take it and give him a grateful smile in return. And Harm was glad to be able to play the gallant knight. But he also knew that, in a few weeks' time, it would all be over. As soon as their daughter would be born, he was sure that Mac would instantly take up her stubborn Semper-Fi attitude again. The same stubborn Semper-Fi attitude he had fallen in love with so many years ago.
They entered the house and were at once greeted by a tall man in a dark suit. "Colonel, Commander, I am Special Agent Colin Spearman, FBI. I'm conducting this investigation."
Harm and Mac exchanged a surprised glance. The Feds? "Cmdr. Harmon Rabb, Jr., JAG corps. And this is my partner, Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie-Rabb," Harm introduced them.
Spearman cast a quick glance at Mac's maternity uniform and then at the wedding bands the officers wore. Then he looked up and flashed them a puzzled, but sincere smile. "Congratulations."
With his most charming flyboy-grin, Harm simply replied: "Thank you, Agent Spearman." And the topic was passed over.
"Tell me, Agent Spearman," Mac spoke up, curious, "When did the Bureau take over? And why?"
"When your husband called the PD yesterday and informed them about a possible connection to drug-trafficking and dealing, the investigators decided to contact us, ma'am," Spearman explained. "Although we still can't establish any hints between the actual case and the Daniel Walden trial by now," he added, casting an almost excusing look in Harm's direction. "But if you would like to take a look around... maybe you can find something that we didn't." He didn't sound too convinced.
Mac turned to follow Spearman upstairs whereas Harm decided to examine the ground floor. He knelt down as he reached a spot where the carpet was covered with large stains of dried blood and footprints that he easily recognized as the admiral's. Few people in D.C. wore original Italian Valleverde shoes. After a moment, a shadow fell over him. He looked up and willed himself to refrain from groaning.
"Hello Commander. Nice to see you again. It's been too long." Allison Krennick's smile hadn't changed for the better. It still seemed calculated and threatening.
Harm rose and came to attention. "Captain..."
"At ease. So, you and your partner are storming to the rescue of your friend?" She gave him a small, not unfriendly, pitying frown. "Might very well turn out to be a hopeless case."
"I don't think so, ma'am," Harm answered evenly.
Krennick moved a little closer and lowered her voice. "It might depend on the negotiating qualities of the admiral's lawyers."
Inwardly swearing, Harm still managed to smile. He wouldn't be impolite. But if he had to be direct, he sure as hell would. Bless Mac for her excellent timing. At that very moment she descended the stairs again and, with a smile that everyone except Harm would have judged brilliant, neared the two navy officers and came to attention.
"Captain Krennick, ma'am."
"At ease." Krennick let her gaze wander openly up and down Mac's body. "I guess congratulations are in order, Colonel," she stated in a guarded voice.
"Thank you, ma'am." Mac's smile never faltered. Harm tried hard to hide his grin.
"Well, who is the lucky one?" Krennick smugly winked at her, casting Harm a quick See-other-people-aren't-as-stiff-as-you glance.
At this Harm stepped up to Mac and put his arm around her shoulders. "Captain, I guess you already know my wife, Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie-Rabb?"
Krennick's eyes popped open for a fraction of a second but she quickly controlled her reaction. "Yes, I do. Only that I wasn't aware that you were married. On the file it only read 'Mackenzie'. Well, Colonel, seems you've tamed the lone pirate. My compliments. Harm..." With a nod to both of them, she quickly turned and went to find Spearman.
Having saluted the captain, Harm gave his wife a quick loving smile. She returned it, squeezing his hand. Then they turned back to business.
"Did you find anything upstairs?"
"No. Seems Sydney didn't keep many things in her bedroom. Mostly clothes and a few toiletteries. No documents. Danny's room is practically empty. He only sleeps there and keeps his belongings on the Coral Sea. I don't think football equipment and old toys are what we're looking for. The third room's a guestroom. Nothing to see. And you?"
Harm sighed. "Nothing down here. I was just examining the bloodstains when Krennick appeared. If you take a look at the kitchen and the living room, I'll go over the folders on her desk in the little home studio," he proposed.
"Okay with me." Mac disappeared into the kitchen and Harm went over to Sydney's desk to lower himself on the chair and open the drawers.
Two hours later they were on their way back to Arlington. Harm wanted to drop Mac off at home, leaving her safely on the sofa, legs up, a cup of tea by her side and lots and lots of pages he had found in Sydney's desk for her to read. Harm didn't really expect that Mac would find anything in the files he had taken with him. But as she hadn't been able to discover any hints, either, on what must have troubled their CO's former girlfriend, the documents were their final thread of hope. Both officers were rather silent; frustration and worry once again clouding their good humor. Suddenly, Mac's cell-phone rang. Frowning, she attached it to the car's intercom and flipped it open.
"Rabb."
"Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie-Rabb? This is Kimberly Archer, 'People' Magazine. Colonel, our readers remember you and the commander from our news coverage regarding the Dwayne Myers band concert at Carnegie Hall. They are keenly interested in the Chegwidden affair and in how you and Cmdr. Rabb deal with the situation that must be hard for you, especially in your state. We would like to set a date for an exclusive interview with the two of you, say, next week?"
Mac and Harm exchanged a quick, incredulous stare. How on earth had that woman gotten Mac's private cell-phone number? Surely Tiner had been fooled by some make-believe explanation, stressing the importance of reaching the colonel.
"Colonel? Are you still with me?" Kimberly Archer was getting a little impatient as the silence lingered on.
"Uhm... yeah." Mac cleared her throat. "Miss Archer, we..."
She didn't get any further. The journalist, probably smiling widely and signaling 'thumbs up' to her colleagues, cut in. "Great. So, what do you say? How about Monday? That would leave us another two days for a few nice cover photos."
"Miss Archer..." Mac tried to be patient.
"We could also do it all in one day if that's more convenient for you. I could drop by at your house with my photographer so people would get a nice impression, too, of how you live."
"Excuse me, Miss Archer, but..." Mac's articulation was decidedly more pointed this time but the reporter went on, obviously not even noticing that the subject of her article had something to say.
"So I guess, we'd have to schedule our meeting for the evening, so your husband's at home, right? We could..."
"I beg your pardon!!!" Mac yelled in boot-camp voice, causing the joyful babble to stop immediately. Mac earned herself an appreciative flyboy-grin as she went on, very calmly, very clearly and deadly serious. "Miss Archer, I don't know how you've come by this number but let me point out a few facts to you. First: my husband and I are 'not' interested in any interviews whatsoever. Second: the way you drag people's private lives into public while - or worse, because - one of the Navy's finest officers is fighting unjust charges is simply disgusting. And third: don't - you - ever - dare - call - this - number - again!! Do I make myself clear??" Harm grinned as he imagined the journalist holding her cell-phone at a two-feet distance from her ear, wincing.
"You did indeed, ma'am," came the very quiet answer.
"Fine. Have a nice day, Miss Archer," Mac said in a honeyed voice and, grinning, snapped the cell-phone shut.
"You could have made an appointment and then shot her, you know..." Harm chuckled softly.
"I'm one of the impatient kind," Mac replied with a lopsided grin.
"Thanks for reminding me."
For a while they rode on in silence. Mac from the corner of her eye looked over at her husband. His concern showed clearly on his face, from the frown on his forehead to his narrowed eyes and the thin line of his tightly set mouth. She sighed.
"Any ideas what we tell Judge Helfman tomorrow morning?"
"No."
"I'll go over all those pages until you come home. I'll have them done when you get back," she offered, wanting to ease his worries. Not that she didn't share them, far from it. She was extremely worried about the case. But her Marine shell would at least prevent her from being eaten up alive by her fears. Harm, on the other hand, was at the verge of plunging himself into the matter so deeply that he once again threatened to drown in it. Like with his father. Like with Darlyn Lewis. Like he maybe would have with her own trial or with Sergei's case, had the matters not been resolved relatively quickly. It was in his character to overstep the boundaries of his own strength if anyone he cared about was involved. And it was a trait of his personality that she deeply loved, although it scared her.
He echoed her sigh. "Thanks, Mac. Let's hope there's something in it."
Her heart ached, hearing the sadness in his voice.
Wed, Feb. 17th 1357 ZULU JAG Headquarters Falls Church, VA
Admiral Chegwidden nervously wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, then squared his shoulders and tightly smiled at his attorneys. "Let's get it over with, guys."
Harm and Mac exchanged a quick, uneasy glance that didn't go unnoticed by AJ. "Pull yourself together!" he rumbled in a low voice and added with the same strained smile: "I know there isn't much to be said in my favor right now. I don't expect the impossible." He shrugged, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "In a few weeks, when it gets to the actual trial, you'll hopefully have dug up something substantial, right?" It was meant to be a joke, but it failed to make the officers smile. A low, sad "Aye, sir." was his only answer. He frowned, but thought it better not to say anything.
AJ wasn't aware that not even one of the four-hundred-plus pages that Harm and Mac had taken home from Sydney's desk had given them so much as the hint to a hint about who might be involved in the affair. Mac, true to her word, had been finished examining them when Harm had returned from the office the day before. But he'd only had to look into her huge, incredibly sad eyes to get the answer to his unspoken question if she would be able to give them hope. Silently she had stepped up to him and embraced him tightly.
None of them had had the heart yet to tell their CO of their newest failure. They could still do it after the hearing when they would talk about a strategy for the court-martial. By now, none of them doubted that there would be one.
"Okay, let's go," Harm finally agreed as the bailiff opened the huge oak doors and they stepped into the courtroom.
The whole JAG office had to be deserted as all of their coworkers were quietly sitting in the audience. Lt. Singer was the only one among them that somehow managed to look relaxed. But even she wore a sober expression on her face. Harriet was chewing her lower lip and tightly holding on to Bud's arm. Fred was subconsciously folding and unfolding his handkerchief over and over again in his lap until Sturgis laid a gentle but firm hand on his arm. Mattoni was staring at the prosecution desk, barely able to contain his anger about seeing Krennick sit there, quietly arranging her files.
Next to the captain was sitting a young man that had earlier been presented to them as Lieutenant Melvin Hobbes, of the Great Lakes JAG office. A quick call to Carolyn Imes had informed Harm - and the rest of the staff that had been listening to the loudspeaker - that Hobbes, like Harm, was an ex-pilot turned lawyer. Only that his change of designator had been of his own free will. He had, at some point, come to the conclusion, that being a lawyer might turn out to be an easier life. Nevertheless, he was still in full possession of his flyboy ego and, being a good-looking, blond giant, displayed an amount of self-confidence that Mac found disturbing and Harm considered plain disgusting. He himself had never been like that, had he?
Upon announcement, all rose as Judge Amy Helfman and her staff entered the courtroom, looking grave and somehow uncomfortable. Mac noticed that, unlike her usual easy attitude, the judge stuck strictly to protocol and only looked up when it was necessary. As the preliminaries were dealt with, she turned her attention to Krennick and requested the captain to bring forth her charges.
Exchanging a quick, confident smile with Hobbes, Krennick rose, let her gaze quickly meet Harm's, and walked in front. "This case is plainly obvious. When it goes to trial, prosecution will prove that Rear Admiral AJ Chegwidden, JAG of the Navy, on Sunday, February 14th, went to see his former girlfriend, Doctor Sydney Walden, assaulted her in her house and killed her. We have the testimony of her son, P.O. Daniel Walden, who confirms that the admiral had previously interfered in their lives and that Doctor Walden feared seeing him. And P.O. Walden furthermore claims to have dissuaded his mother from contacting him in a certain matter yet unknown to all parties, as he fully shared her concerns regarding the admiral. We have evidence at hand that Admiral Chegwidden had indeed been in the victim's house at the time of her death. Her son testifies to having witnessed seeing his mother die in the admiral's presence. We have the admiral's fingerprints on the murder weapon, no other fingerprints were found. We have a police statement that says that Doctor Walden must have known her assaulter and admitted him to her house. We can prove that the admiral and Doctor Walden did not end their relationship on friendly terms and that he has been observing P.O. Walden's career in the Navy carefully ever since. Therefore, prosecution maintains that it is necessary to press murder charges against Admiral Chegwidden and to convene a court-martial against him."
Casting one last satisfied look in the direction of the defense, Krennick nodded at Judge Helfman and returned to her seat. The judge turned her attention to Harm who now rose and stepped in front.
"Your honor, if this case should go to trial, our defendant will proclaim himself not guilty. It is true that he went to see Doctor Walden at the time of her tragic death but he did it because she had asked him to come and meet her. Admiral Chegwidden and Sydney Walden had been completely disconnected for several years by the time the murder occurred. Therefore their private lives cannot be considered a motive for this crime. AJ Chegwidden did not murder the doctor." Knowing he had to stick to the hard facts, Harm swallowed the fiery defense discourse that his mind urged him to make, and turned to sit down. But he was interrupted by the judge's voice.
Knowing well that for an Article-32 hearing her interference might be a little unorthodox, Captain Amy Helfman couldn't refrain from speaking up. Incredulous, she had listened to the commander's weak attempts to establish a defense. This was by no means the Harmon Rabb she knew. She had been glad to hear that Rabb and Mackenzie had taken the JAG's defense, knowing that if there were anyone who could get him out of this mess, it would be the HQ wonder team. But what on earth had happened to their faculties? Judge Helfman knew that the commander and the colonel had to be aware that their strategy - if there was one - wasn't worth the paper it was written on. But what had really shaken her was the expression of defeat and resignation that she had detected in the eyes of the tall officer and his partner who were known to her as two of the toughest fighters on earth. If even those two had already given up the fight...
"Commander?"
Harm stopped short and turned, noticing at once the barely hidden concern in the judge's voice. "Your honor?"
"Do you have witnesses who confirm that Doctor Walden called the admiral?" Judge Helfman felt strange in the role of the investigator but she couldn't just let the commander walk away.
"The whole JAG office witnessed him receive a call, ma'am." Harm had immediately understood what the judge was trying to do. He bit his lip to refrain from yelling at her that whatever she would come up with would lead to nothing but frustration. So he just waited and concentrated on his breathing, willing himself to keep his rage in check.
The judge sighed. "Did anyone overhear the admiral actually talking to Doctor Walden?"
"No, ma'am."
"Did the admiral mention to anyone that he was about to go to Doctor Walden?"
"No, ma'am."
"Does the admiral's cell-phone show that Doctor Walden called?"
"The call was made from a public payphone, ma'am."
"Is there anything the defense might want to add?"
"No, your honor."
Judge Helfman closed her eyes for a brief moment after Harm's monotone answers, sighing. Then she resolutely grabbed the gavel and looked at the congregation.
"Take your place, Commander. A court-martial will be convened regarding the murder charges against Rear Admiral AJ Chegwidden. The date will be set in a few weeks' time. Taking into consideration the gravity of the crime in question, the accused will remain in custody. Court is in recess." The gavel fell so vigorously that it broke upon impact. Judge Helfman frowned, rose and left the courtroom.
"See you soon, Commander, Colonel," was all that AJ said gruffly as the guards were about to accompany him out of the courtroom.
"Aye, sir." Mac's hand sought Harm's as she tried to steady her voice. Then she left the room together with her colleagues, knowing that Harm wanted a minute to himself.
Harm let himself fall onto his chair, letting out his breath and burying his face in his hands, supporting his head by resting his elbows on the table before him. Like this, he just sat there for three whole minutes, trying to come to terms with this nightmare. The quiet solitude of the deserted courtroom slowly helped him to calm down. Suddenly, the sound of a voice made him jump.
"I told you it wasn't going to work, Commander." Allison Krennick shut the door behind herself and walked up to Harm's table. Sighing, he pulled himself up and came to attention.
"Ma'am..."
"At ease." She frowned. "Oh, come on, Harm, there's no one here. Drop the formalities."
"Aye, ma'am." He folded his arms in front of his chest, waiting.
"You are pretty desperate, right?" Her words were open and sincere. Harm thought he would have felt more at ease had she been gloating over his defeat.
"Yes." Unemotional honesty might work, he decided.
Krennick stepped closer, lowering her voice. "We might be able to work out a deal, though, if your client cooperates."
Stiffening, Harm warily eyed the blond captain. She was good-looking, he had to admit. And it was clear that she knew it. He tried not to let his anger rise. He was married, damn it! Didn't that mean anything to her?
"I don't see any room for negotiations, ma'am."
Krennick lightly put her hand on Harm's arm, looking up to him. "Oh, I do. I could explain my ideas to you in private. I'm sure your wife, in her state, needs to rest a lot and would even be glad to have her husband leave her in peace for a little while."
Harm felt his hand clench the lapel of his uniform jacket as he tried to stay calm. "My wife happens to sit second chair," was the only thing he said.
Krennick frowned slightly and decided to try the direct approach. Rabb was a pilot. He had always been flattered by female attention. A fighter pilot never let an easy prey slip away. Not even a wedding band could change that. "You could always inform her about any deals once they are made. Negotiating is your prerogative as primary defense counsel. And..." Krennick let her voice drop an octave, stepping still closer to him, "You might thank me for providing you with an opportunity to get a break from female pregnancy roller-coaster and to have some of the fun you must have been missing for some time now." She invitingly raised one eyebrow.
Fuming, Harm grabbed his folders, tugged them tightly under his arm and raised himself to full height. He hated having to answer anything to her bold request, especially as their private lives were of no one else's concern, let alone Krennick's. But he had to be plain, once and for all. His stare might have stabbed the female officer when he calmly replied.
"I have been married for more than half a year now, ma'am. Very happily married. My wife is the most extraordinary woman I have ever met in my whole life and she means everything to me. I am missing nothing whatsoever and, with all due respect, Captain: should you feel inclined to engage into any social contact with a pilot turned lawyer, you might want to consider turning to Lt. Hobbes. May I be dismissed?"
Krennick's stare had turned as angry as his own. "Dismissed, Commander." Her words were sharp and cold. Harm turned and walked out of the courtroom, knowing well that the situation hadn't become any easier for their CO just now.
The blond captain watched as the object of her hidden desires left the room. 'Damn you, Mackenzie,' she silently swore.
To be continued... (Feedback always appreciated!)