0200 ZULU
Over the Atlantic Ocean
I hate planes. I'm sure Harm would spite me for saying it, but I do. I don't mind short two hour flights, or the few times I felt adventurous enough take a ride in Harm's stearman, but I'm put off by those that are multiple hours. But, I don't complain. It comes with the job.
I can just imagine the hell that Harm's going through right now, all 6'4" of him. He's stretching his legs precariously into the aisle, politely making sure he doesn't obstruct the pathway leading to the back of the aircraft. I suppose the 'joy' (if that's what you call it) of being up in the air makes up for it.
A blonde flight attendant is slowly making her way down the aisle, handing people their food. After what seems like hours, she gets to us.
She smiles widely, it's sickening really, "Chicken or beef?"
"Beef," I yawn. I swore to myself the moment I got on the plane that I wouldn't sleep until I got food, my stomach is in agony right now. I'm sure the pregnant woman three rows in front can hear its indignant grumbling.
She beams again, and hands me a small tray, with a thick slab of meat on it. A salad sits in the corner, along with one plastic cup filled with water. I resist the urge to wrinkle my nose. That's another reason I hate commercial flights. I know it's trite to say it, but the food is revolting.
Harm glances at the attendant's cart, "Any vegetarian?"
She shuffles through the trays for a moment, "Sir, you need to pre-order vegetarian meals. I'm afraid we only have enough for those who have asked prior to the flight. If I have any extra, I'll notify you."
She hands Harm a chicken tray and apologizes, "Maybe you could eat the other parts?" And with that, she's gone. I look at Harm, he's poking at the plastic on his tray gingerly, but turns his attention to his drink and takes a sip.
He glances back in the aisle, and snorts, a bit too loud, "I don't think she'll come back."
"Here," I say with a sigh. I feel sorry for my partner. I take his main course and push it to my side. I grab my salad and give it to him, "You'll be living like a rabbit for the next few hours, but I guess it's the best we can do."
"Thanks, Mac".
We eat in companionable silence. After a few moments, he's done his first salad. I can here his stomach protest as it gives out a low rumble.
Almost as if he's desperate to fill the void of silence, Harm starts to talk quite animatedly about Mattie and his first encounter with female hygiene products. I feel happy for him, he seems to have found something to look forward to when he comes home, unlike me. Wait, I have Clay, right?
Then all of a sudden, as if he's been reading my mind, the conversation is about me, "How are you and Webb? Hope Chegwidden didn't pull you out of an important plan with him."
I'm prodding at the piece of chicken that was previously in front of Harm with my fork. I swear it's jiggling more than any normal chicken should, "We're fine."
"You love him?" Harm says. He looks at me from the corner of his eye and forks the last cherry tomato from his salad. We haven't talked about it since the drug raid on the Wake Island. I don't like the trail we're on.
I tentatively swallow the first piece of chicken; I'm tired of talking about my personal life, "Harm…" I use a tone that'll discourage him.
"Sorry, it's none of my business, I…" he looks down. The flight attendant comes around and collects our trays.
"It's alright." Actually, it isn't, but I'll let him think it is.
I take the tiny, thin pillow graciously provided by the airline and lean against the window with it. I adjust my body so it's angled just slightly away from him, "Get some sleep Harm, we'll be arriving in about four more hours." I don't hear him respond, and I don't look at him to see if he's acknowledged my remark. Eventually, my body gives in to the torpor and I drift off.
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We've been notified that we're going to rendezvous with the authorities at 1400 today, they've been kind enough to give us a few hours to get ourselves freshened up and familiar with the case.
I come out of the bathroom and wrap myself up in a robe, and material is fluffy, it feels nice against my skin; I felt indescribably grimy after the flight, I thank God for letting me have a shower. I quickly change into the first thing I can grab from my luggage and make my way to the bed. Once there, I lie down on my back, and stretch myself out while curling my toes; I feel like a cat.
The hotel room is a bit small, but has a well-sized bathroom, a king sized bed with an oak dresser at the side. There's a fairly large television at the front of the room. I've been in much worse.
There's a soft knock on my door, and I give out a great sigh when I nearly roll off the bed to answer it. I know I should have a better work ethic, but I shrug it off. It's Harm, and he's already changed, he's wearing a pair of khakis and a gray button-up shirt – he looks nice.
"Want a peek at the files?" he says, holding up said folder in his right hand.
Oh, the files I've so conveniently cleared my mind of. I move aside and give Harm entrance to my room, "You've already seen them, right?"
He steps inside my room and nods, "Just a glance," he goes and sits on the couch located directly in front of the bed, "Hey, your room is bigger than mine."
I sit beside him and grin, just like old times. For a moment, I can forget all of the drama in Paraguay, and my contradicting emotions. Harm has placed the folder on the coffee table in front of me. I open it prudently, and am met with a number of gory pictures. I look away for a moment, "Why do people do this do this?"
"Read the autopsy reports. That's the only thing I've looked at in detail, I've steered clear of the photographs," he's shaking his head.
I skim over the Lisa Harper's report. Strangulation was determined to be the cause of death, but five stab wounds were made prior to death on the abdomen, and neckline. Fortunately, Rossi's body was not in as horrid condition, he was shot once and killed instantaneously.
All I can do is nod, "No sign of rape…have they found out why Rossi and Harper were in there together?"
Harm shakes his head and glances back at the pictures, most of which have been scattered on the table, "No, but you and I are going to find out. The knife was found, no prints. The gun isn't accounted for." He intakes his breath sharply, "Why don't you get some rest, we'll leave in a couple of hours."
I get all the papers and put them safely in the folder, "Alright. You get some sleep too, Harm."
Once Harm has left, I don't go to bed. I read up on Harper and Rossi. Harper graduated from university two years ago, and joined the Navy shortly after. In all twenty-five years of her life, her record was spotless, no juvenile cases or recent problems. I see her file photo, she was a pretty girl with light brown hair and a pale complexion; she is smiling back at me like nothing is wrong, I feel a bit sick.
Rossi, thirty-one, on the other hand was involved with two drug arrests and seems to have had a violent streak. He was apprehended once in a case of domestic violence, but all his problems seem to have dissipated four years ago. He seems like a prodigal son to me, leeching off his rich parents and getting in trouble more often the naught.
I put the folder on the bedside table and give a feeble yawn. Harm's right, we will find out what happened to that girl.
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I rap on Harm's door impatiently, and he doesn't answer. I knock a bit harder this time. I'm full up with some wholesome Italian food courtesy of the hotel's excellent room service, and I'm sure Harm is too; there's no reason for him to be late, he's had hours to get himself ready. The door swings open and I nearly thwack him with my fist as I go in for a third assault."Sorry," he says. He runs back in to the room and grabs his cover.
"They're waiting downstairs. We aren't going to be making the best impression if we're late," I say dryly as he closes his door.
He sighs and nudges me forward slightly, "Yes, I know. Just hurry now, alright?"
"What? You're telling me –" I'm cut off by another jab by Harm.
When we reach the lobby, a balding man in a dark suit and sunglasses puts out his hand. He is extremely thin, and has a large nose. He speaks in a thick Italian accent, but his mouth moves rapidly as he talks in fluent English, "Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie I presume? Lieutenant Carlo De Luca, I'll be your correspondent during this case. I trust you've read up on the case information?"
Harm shakes his hand, "Yes we have Lieutenant."
"Good. I think you will like to speak to the other crew members on ship?" De Luca breaks the contact between he and Harm. He seems very aloof.
I catch Harm's eye and give a slight nod before turning my attention back to the officer, "Yes, but first, where's Larson? I want to speak to him."
De Luca examines me for a moment, almost as if he forgot I was there, "He's being held by the authorities. I can take you to him."
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Harm and I enter the tiny jail cell, and the heavily armed guard (I don't see why his weapons are necessary in a local police station) locks the door behind him. A young man with blonde hair, an average build and a dirty Navy uniform looks up at us from behind a tiny table in the center of the cell. He stands at attention immediately.
Harm and I sit down in the two chairs in front of Larson in succession, "At ease, Petty Officer, I'm Commander Rabb, this is Colonel Mackenzie. We need you to tell us everything about the night of May thirteenth."
Larson is nervous. He sits back down and drums his fingers against the plastic table, creating a dull, pattering noise, "Sir, Ma'am, I had just come back from a bar a few miles away in town."
"Alone, Petty Officer?" I say incredulously.
He looks at me, "Yes Ma'am. The guys didn't want to come back to port, wanted to enjoy themselves a bit more. I thought I'd had enough for one night, so I came home alone." He pauses and looks down, breaking eye-contact, "I heard a scream Ma'am. So, I ran into the warehouse where it came from and saw Lisa."
"Only her?" Harm says quietly.
Larson nods, "She was in really bad shape Sir, I knew she was dead…so I ran out and went back onto the Iowa," he manages to choke out.
"It seems that you notified the authorities two hours after you discovered her body," I glance down at the file.
"Yes Ma'am, I was…Lisa and I were friends, it was just a really big shock. First thing I did after I got on board was throw up in my quarters," Larson says, straightforward. He wipes at his eyes with his sleeve.
"Did you see anyone else in that building, or leaving the building?" Harm says after giving Larson a moment to compose himself.
Larson shakes his head. The only noises in the room are his shaking sobs. I don't know what to say, and neither does Harm.
I start to clear our things, "Thank you Petty Officer, we'll come see you again after we get our bearings. We just arrived this morning," I say with a much-needed smile.
"Well, I hope you get the opportunity to do that Ma'am," he stands up again, with a bit of difficulty.
Harm and I leave the building, and the moment we're out, he touches my shoulder gently, "We need to talk to the guys he went to the bar with."
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USS Iowa
"Andy and Lisa were real close," Petty Officer Second Class Henry Marks replies softly, looking at the floor, "The only reason he went to the bar with us and not her was because she said she was sick, Ma'am."
Harm cocks his eyebrow, "They were close?"
The other officer, Lieutenant James Thades glares at Marks but answers Harm's question, "It wasn't what you think, Sir. They were just good friends, Andy never showed interest in having another type of relationship with her," he stops, not knowing what to say next, "They would just spend a lot of time together when given the opportunity."
"Did you notice anything strange between them lately, over the past few weeks?" I tap my pen against the wooden desk and rest my gaze on Marks.
Marks is about to answer, but sees Thades and hesitates. After a moment, he continues, "Well Ma'am, about three weeks ago, I saw them late at night on deck. Andy had disappeared a few hours earlier, and I just wanted to know if he was interested in playing a few cards," he gives a little smile, "and I was about to call out to him when Lisa just started yelling at him."
He's silent again, continuously giving nervous looks towards Thades.
"Do you know what about?" I ask. This man certainly needs a bit of coaxing.
Marks looks at his hands, "I wasn't eavesdropping, Ma'am, I just overheard, that's all, 'cause it definitely wasn't any of my business. It was just awkward. I left as fast as I could," he shifts in his chair a bit, "sounded a bit like a lovers' quarrel to me."
"But the next day they seemed fine," Thades interjects. He obviously knows of Larson and Harper's little spat as well.
"Do you think they had more than just a platonic relationship?" Harm asks.
Thades finally speaks again, "They weren't doing anything Sir. I know that. Andy and I are good friends, he'd tell me if they did."
"But when they first met, Andy had a huge thing for her," Marks retorts, it seems the two young men are now arguing amongst themselves, "I wouldn't be surprised if they were contemplating the…possibilities of their relationship."
Harm's stare is stone hard, he's looking out the porthole that is behind the two officers; it gives a clear view of Naples from the docks.
I slide my chair back and get up, "Thank you Petty Officer, Lieutenant." Harm gets up as well, slowly.
Thades walks out the door, and Marks is about to do the same when he stops, "Ma'am?" I turn around, "Regardless of what I said about Lisa and Andy's relationship, he's a good man. He'd never hurt her."
I smile in acknowledgement and Marks leaves the room. I turn my head and see Harm has been surveying our conversation. He hastily grabs his cover and starts towards the exit but halts, "There's one thing I don't understand yet. Why did Harper leave the ship?"
I glance at the file, "Says here her cabin mate is Nancy Fawkes, she may have a thing or two to tell us."
Harm nods but doesn't move, "We'd better get going then."
"You okay?" I ask, concerned.
"Let's go ask where Fawkes is," he says, blatantly ignoring my question.
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Nancy Fawkes twirls her auburn hair around her finger as she fights to hold back sobs, "God, Lisa…I can't believe this happened to her. They told me four days ago, I just couldn't believe it until now."
Her emotions rush in as a torrent, and tears flow freely down her cheeks. She gets up, forgetting she's in the presence of senior officers, and walks to the porthole on the left side of the room.
Harm gets up and puts his hand on her shoulder comfortingly, "Were you two good friends?" he whispers.
"The best," she pulls away from Harm and sits back down, "Sorry about that, Ma'am."
I give her a reassuring smile, "Don't worry about it. I know it's hard, but I need you to answer a few questions."
Fawkes nods and sniffles a bit, "I'll do anything I can do to help you find the sick person who did this."
I take out some notepaper and ready myself, "Do you know Petty Officer Andrew Larson?"
Fawkes nods, "Andy? He and Lisa were friends, sometimes she'd spend more time with him than me," she adds with a chuckle.
Harm smiles, "How would you describe their relationship?"
"They were good friends, Sir. Sometimes…I don't know if I should be saying this…but she would talk to me about him. I think-I think she really liked him." I stiffen in my chair, Harper was in love with Larson?
"What did she say?"
"Sometimes, after spending time with him, she would talk about him," Fawkes laughs quietly, "but sometimes she'd be angry. One time, she said she tried to bring up taking their relationship to the next level. He just didn't say anything. She was furious. You know, that's what I really admired about Lisa, she never got teary over a man, she was always so strong."
"The night that she…" I wait, deciding the best word choice before I continue, "How was she acting before she left that night."
"I- she was fine…," Fawkes bites her bottom lip, "I asked Lisa why she didn't go with Andy to the bar, I mean, I needed to stay because I was feeling a bit under the weather, but she looked fine. She just said that she didn't feel like drinking or going out. Then I asked if she wanted to go to the mess, get a little something. She said that she had something to do later that night."
"So she planned to go out?"
"I guess so, Ma'am. That's what it sounded like then. I just thought she wanted to get some fresh air out on deck, and she left. I went out a little later, looking for her, and some of the others said they saw her leave. That was the last time I saw her," Fawkes starts breaking down again, "Why didn't she tell me anything?"
Harm quietly escorts Fawkes out of the room, and tells her to get some rest. He comes back in and stands at the door. He crosses his arms and exhales his breath slowly and turns his head to the side, "Why don't we get something to eat?"
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END CHAPTER II