Read Word of Honor Online

Authors: Nelson Demille

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Suspense, #War stories, #Vietnam War; 1961-1975, #Vietnamese Conflict; 1961-1975, #Mystery fiction, #Legal

Word of Honor (37 page)

"In my pocket. Cut the inquisition. I'll need to borrow the Volvo in the morning and some money. I'll bring you a makc, to clean and fillet."

She seemed pensive, then asked softly, "You didn't try to . . . you know?"

Tyson began to reply in the negative, then said, "I don't know. . . . I think I just wanted to swim. I was swimming here actually."

She nodded dubiously.

He said, "I came about as close as you can get and still WORD OF HONOR 0 289

get back. Now that I've caught a glimpse of the far shore my curiosity is satisfied. I don't want to go there. Not for some time."

"I hope not." Marcy stood and went to the French doors leading to the balcony. She looked out into the cove as she spoke. "How are you making out in the big city?"

"Okay. Paul Stein has a nice apartment. You were there once before he got divorced." He added, "It's a little lonely. How about you?"

"I'm doing fine. Lots of people we know are here. Coincidentally, Paul stopped by, and we had dinner. He wanted to let me know he wasn't promoting our separation by loaning you his apartment. "

"That was thoughtful."

She turned from the window and faced him. "Also, Jim, my boss, came by.

We went swimming. And Phil Sloan was out last weekend."

"Sounds like a public rest house. I thought we were hiding out."

"I'm not hiding." She took a step toward him. "It's idiotic and sneaky.

And it doesn't work. Those two guys who are renting next door knew who I was right away."

Tyson didn't reply.

Marcy inquired in a neutral tone, "What are you doing with yourself9"

Tyson shrugged. "Not much. Reading, exercising, walking a lot. I've never been unemployed. What am I supposed to do?"

"Are you keeping out of trouble?"

He smiled.

She frowned in return, a mock-annoyed frown. "I don't like you out of my sight, Tyson."

He didn't respond, but he felt a little happier. Against his better judgment he asked, "Are you keeping out of trouble?"

She shrugged.

Tyson waited.

Marcy moved to the side of the bed. She said, "Jim came with his wife.

So did Phil. Paul Stein had his girlfriend with him, and the two guys next door are married-4o each other. "

290 * NELSON DEMILLE

She laughed. "God, it's true that all the men are taken, gay, mental basket cases, too young, too old, or sexual deviates. "

"Don't rule out the sexual deviates."

She looked at him sternly. "Anyway, I'm not available. Yet. "

Tyson sat up straighter. He said, "It's best if you get used to not having me around . . . I mean, beyond the question of our recent problems is the possibility that I'll be in some sort of . . . custody for some time . so it's best if you get used to-"

"I want you here for just that reason. I want you to be with your family until this is resolved."

Tyson didn't respond.

Marcy drew a deep breath, then said, "Look, Ben, I understand why you left.

Your wife became an embarrassment, the locker-room talk got smutty, people were laughing behind your back. So you did what all self-centered males do.

You said, 'Look, guys, I left the slut.' Is that about it?"

Tyson said unconvincingly, "I told you your past is your business. My past is not. I left to save you embarrassment. "

"Bullshit." Still standing beside the bed, she leaned closer to him. "How do you feel about me? In your heart?"

"I love you."

"Then fuck the world, and especially fuck the past. Let's go away from here."

Tyson shook his head. "I have orders to report to Fort Hamilton day after tomorrow."

"Don't. Do you still have your passport?"

"Yes-"

"Then go, for God's sake. Go while you can. I'll tie up all the financial ends here. Give Phil power of attorney. We can clear a nice sum on our house. David and I will join you in a few months."

"Where do you propose I go?"

"Who cares? Anyplace where they'll leave us alone."

"I'm an American. This is my country."

She snorted. "The last refuge of a patriot is somewhere without extradition."

Tyson smiled grimly. He stared at Marcy awhile, and WORD OF HONOR 0 291

their eyes met. He said, "Fight or flight? That is the question. I think I'd rather fight. "

She sat again on the edge of the bed. "Let me ask you something. If I was the one who was facing a jail term, would you consider leaving the country with me?"

"Yes.-

"Well, I'm willing to go with you. You're not dragging me. I'm suggesting it. I won't ever hold it against you."

"Easy to say now."

"Ben, why are you staying?"

"I'm optimistic. I think I can win."

"You once said to me, on the day this began, that this will be the Army's game, with their rules. That was good insight. Don't forget you said that."

"I've come to respect military justice now that I see it and remember it."

"You know what I think? I think the Army has already sent a memo to the commander of Leavenworth instructing him on the sort of accommodations they want for you."

Tyson cleared his throat. He replied, "Well, if that happens, when I get out I'll have paid my debt to society. And I can live a normal life."

"What society? This society doesn't give a rat's ass about what you did or didn't do in some benighted non-country over two decades ago. Half the nation doesn't care if you're guilty or not, and the other half is ecstatic that you bagged a hundred gooks in one day."

"No, that's not my country you're talking about."

She looked at him curiously, then replied, "I'm afraid it is. It's poor Picard's blood the country wants, not yours.

"Nonsense."

"is it? You're out of touch."

"You sound like me when I was a member of the silent majority twenty years ago."

"I've woken up a bit. In fact, a curious incident happened to me about a week ago. I was in the American Hotel bar with Gloria Jordan, Melinda's mother. Now, this is not one of your blue-collar reactionary pubs. Not at four bucks a pop. There are city people and local gentry in there. And what do you think the subject of conversation was at the bar?"

292 * NELSON DEMILLE

"The resurgence or decline of the Broadway stage."

"No, Sir. The subject was you."

"No kidding?"

"And the consensus was 'guilty, but who caresT Also ,guilty with loads of extenuation and mitigation.' A few people suggested that you might be innocent as a result of temporary insanity. "

"There's nothing temporary about it. I'm still married to you. "

"One gentleman suggested you be given a medal, though he didn't specify which one he thought appropriate."

"I already got the Vietnamese Cross of Gallantry for that action. Let's not overdo it. "

"One lady seriously doubted that such a good-looking man could do anything like that."

"Did you get her name and phone number?"

"Point is, Tyson, the public, if that was an accurate sampling-and I think you'd find even more support at the Sandpiper--4he public thinks you're getting a raw deal whether or not you and your soldiers murdered a hundred men, women, and children. They think Picard is a shit.

"Poor Picard. What were you doing in a bar?"

"Getting drunk."

"You're supposed to say, 'Looking for my dog.' How did you vote?"

"I was very tempted to deliver my standard lecture on the immorality of the Vietnam War, but I remembered I couldn't testify against my husband. So I took Gloria's arm, and we slipped out."

"Before they recognized you and carried you down Main Street on their shoulders."

"It was very embarrassing. With Gloria there, I mean." She rubbed her chin contemplatively, then said, "But public opinion will not get you acquitted any more than it will get Picard indicted. It's not that kind of democracy.

"I guess not."

She glanced at her husband, then said, "Someone told me that federal agents are watching Picard's house-to protect him. Did you know that?"

"No. How would I know that?" But he should have WORD OF HONOR * 293

known, he realized. He should have suspected that Picard's coolness in inviting him in was a result of having some heavy artillery on call.

Interesting. He had to keep reminding himself that this was not a personal problem but a national one; that there were unseen players in the wings and people like Chet Brown who entered the stage for a moment, then faded back into the shadows, and their numbers were legion. He said, "Is anyone watching us?"

She shrugged. "If they are, it is not to protect us from an angry lynch mob. We have not been harassed by anyone except the media, and we've been threatened by no one. What does that tell you about your country?"

"It tells me I am innocent until proven guilty."

"Yet Picard is guilty. Guilty of smearing the name of a war hero. You, my friend, like your former boss, Westmoreland, are a sacred cow. You fought for your country, you were wounded in battle, and you are being persecuted by an ungrateful Army and a biased press. Well, that is the perception. The truth, as we both know, is that the government is actually doing its job in spite of the unpopularity of its course of action. The press, for all its faults, is seeing that the government doesn't lose its nerve.

Tyson said, "Whose side are you on?"

"Yours, damn it." She thought a moment, then said softly, "The test of how we feel about our convictions is whether or not we stand up for them when we are personally involved. If your case was one that I was reading about, I'd be inclined toward wanting to see you tried and convicted. But you are my husband, and I love you. So I say you ought to run, to become a fugitive from justice, because . . . because I'm afraid you may be guilty . . . ...

She turned away from him, and Tyson could see she was near tears.

He waited, then said, "Somehow I don't see Marcy Clure Tyson aiding and abetting a suspected war criminal. But you're right: If the suspected criminal is the man you love, then you have to make a choice. Well, lady, I'm damned flattered. But I'm not running. I've run and run for nearly two decades, pursued by a hundred bloody ghosts. And they would have let me run until the day I died. That was my

294 * NELSON DEMILLE

punishment on earth. I don't know what they have in store for me when I finally join them, but I hope to God they are merciful when we meet."

"Stop it. Stop that."

"Well, anyway, the least I can do now is face this imperfect system of justice we've created. As I said, I've already had my punishment, and anything the Army does to me now is inconsequential."

"To you. Not to me." She put a cool tone in her voice and informed him,

"I will not wait for you."

Tyson felt a tightening in his stomach but replied lightly, "That's my girl."

She added, "I will not wait for a fool."

He said nothing.

Marcy lowered her head in thought, then spoke. "You said fight or flight.

But there are people who do neither. People who wait for the state apparatus to knock on their door in the middle of the night-"

"Oh, spare me your Kafka nightmares. I have enough nightmares of my own.

This is America. The only people who knock on your door here in the middle of the night are drunks. And I'm not waiting like a paralyzed rabbit. I'm fighting. "

"In your mind perhaps. But no one else sees any sign of it. Phil Sloan--

"Fuck him."

She drew away from him and said, "Why are you optimistic? Has Major Harper said anything?"

Harper's name caught him by surprise, though it shouldn't have. He said,

"Well, no. But I have a feel for the Army's case against me. It isn't strong. I think she may recommend that no charges be forwarded. "

"Do you?" Marcy stood, went to the dresser, and opened the top drawer.

She moved some underclothes aside and took out a newspaper. "I didn't want this lying around for David to see." She held up a copy of the American Investigator. "Have you seen this one?"

"Actually the supermarket was out of them. I bought toilet paper instead."

She laid the newspaper across his knees. "I know it's a rug, but this stuff seems to find its way into more respectable WORD OF HONOR * 295

publications. Worse, other publications dig deeper for any grains of truth."

Tyson looked at the inside page to which she had opened. The story was headlined: Splitsvillefor Tysons? A subline announced: Major Karen Harper Not the Cause, Soy Friends. Very sly, thought Tyson.

Tyson looked at the head-and-shoulders photo of himself and Marcy together. They were wearing evening clothes, and both had rather silly smiles. Tyson recognized it as the photo taken at the hospital charity ball. There was also a photograph of Karen in uniform, probably an Army PR handout.

Marcy said, "Can I get you something?"

Tyson looked up. "How about a glass of ice water?"

Marcy left.

Tyson scanned the article. He read a few lines at random: Marcy has taken up residence on the chic East End of Long Island, while Ben is living in a bachelor pad on Manhattan's fashionable East Side. Friends say they are not legally separated but "just living apart. " He read another line farther down the column: He was seen having drinks with her in the cocktail lounge of Washington's exclusive Four Seasons Hotel. A hotel spokesperson would not confirm that Tyson was registered there, but employees of the hotel said he was. We don't know who picked up the billfor Tyson's room orfor the cocktails with Major Karen Harper, but we hope it wasn't the taxpayer.

"Me neither," said Tyson aloud. "The nerve of those people flaunting their looks and money in exclusive cocktail lounges." He read a few more lines, getting the subliminal message that the American Investigator was trying to get across, and it had less to do with the American taxpayer getting screwed than with the possibility that Tyson and Harper were getting it on. He threw the paper aside, then opened the night-table drawer and found the pack of cigarettes he'd left there. He lit one with a paper match.

Marcy came into the room with a tray on which was a glass of ice water and a glass of white wine. She passed him the water and said, "I'm taking you to Southampton Hospital. "

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