The General's Daughter by Nelson DeMille Read Free Book Online Page A

sometimes even effective. Bottom line on this one, though, I was going to have
     to get real creative, and I was going to piss off a lot of important people. That’s the fun part.
    I said to Kent, “I need Captain Campbell’s personnel and medical files sealed and in your office before noon.”
    “Okay.”
    “And I need an office at your place, and a clerk.”
    “One desk or two?”
    I glanced at Cynthia. “I guess two desks. But I’m not committing to this yet.”
    “Don’t blow smoke up my ass, Paul. You in or not?”
    “I’ll see what they say at Falls Church. Okay, delay notifying the public information officer until about ten hundred hours.
     Send two guys to Captain Campbell’s office and physically remove her desk, furniture, and all her personal possessions, and
     have everything locked up in your evidence room. And have Sergeant St. John and PFC Robbins remain in the provost marshal’s
     office until I can see them. I don’t want anyone speaking a word of this until they’ve spoken to me. And it is your unpleasant
     duty, Colonel, to pay an official call on General and Mrs. Campbell at their home. Go unannounced and with an appropriate
     chaplain and a medical officer in case anyone needs a sedative or something. They may not view the body at the scene. Okay?”
    Kent nodded and let out a long breath. “Jesus Christ…”
    “Amen. Meanwhile, instruct your people not to say a word about what we found here, and give forensic a set of disqualifying
     fingerprints from PFC Casey, and disqualifying bootprints from everyone here at the scene, including yourself, of course.”
    “Right.”
    “Also, tape off the latrine sheds and don’t let anyone use them. Also, the latrines are off limits to forensic until I have
     a chance to check them out.”
    “Okay.”
    I walked over to Cynthia, who was now putting everything back in the handbag, still using a handkerchief. “Anything interesting?”
    “No. Basic stuff. Wallet, money, keys, and everything appears intact. Here’s a chit from the O Club. She had dinner last night.
     Salad, chicken, white wine, and coffee.” She added, “She was probably there in the dining room about the same time we were
     having a drink.”
    Kent had joined us and he asked, “You two had drinks together? You know each other?”
    I replied, “We had drinks separately. We are nodding acquaintances.” I asked Cynthia, “Campbell’s address?”
    “Off post, unfortunately. Victory Gardens on Victory Drive in Midland. Unit forty-five.” She added, “I think I know the place—a
     town-house complex.”
    Kent said, “I’ll call Chief Yardley—that’s the Midland police chief, and he’ll get a court order and he can meet us there.”
    “No. We’ll keep this in the family, Bill.”
    “You can’t go search her off-post house without a civilian search warrant—”
    Cynthia handed me the keys from Ann Campbell’s bag and said, “I’ll drive.”
    Kent protested, “You can’t go off post without civilian authority.”
    I detached Ann Campbell’s car keys from the key chain and gave them to Kent, along with the victim’s handbag. “Find out where
     her car is and impound it.”
    As we walked toward Cynthia’s Mustang, I said to Kent, “You should stay here to direct things. When you write your report,
     you can write that I said I was going to the Midland police. I’ll take responsibility for my change of mind.”
    “Yardley is a tough, redneck son-of-a-bitch,” Kent informed me. “He’ll get your ass, Paul.”
    “He has to stand in line and wait his turn.” To get Kent squared away so he didn’t do anything stupid, I said, “Look, Bill,
     I have to have first look at Ann Campbell’s place. I have to remove anything that might embarrass her, her family, the Army,
     or her military colleagues and friends. Right? Then we’ll let Chief Yardley have his shot at the house. Okay?”
    He seemed to process this correctly and nodded.
    Cynthia got behind the