Killing Hour - Lisa Gardner [124]
“Nope,” she said. “Never heard a thing.”
“That little birdie must be pulling your leg,” Quincy told Kaplan.
Kaplan raised a brow. In a surprisingly quick move for a big guy, he swiped the cell phone clipped to Quincy’s waist, eyed its lack of power, and grunted. “Smart. Well, as long as they’re fucking their own people, welcome to my happy little club. I got a body, I still have jurisdiction, and I’m not giving it up.”
“Amen,” Quincy said. Rainie merely yawned.
Kaplan remained scowling. “So why do you want to reinterview my sentries? Think I couldn’t possibly have gotten it right the first time?”
“No, but now we have new information on the suspect.”
That seemed to appease the special agent. He shook out his shoulders, indicated for them to climb into his car, then headed back out onto the base. “Guys were out training this morning,” Kaplan filled them in. “I had their CO pull them aside. Both should be waiting for us at the school. They’re young, but good. If they know anything that can be of help, they’ll tell you.”
“Any more activity around here?”
“Dead bodies? Thankfully, no. Ads in the Quantico Sentry? None that has crossed anyone’s desk. I met with Betsy Radison’s parents late last night. That’s been about it.”
“Tough business,” Quincy said quietly.
“Yeah, it is.”
Kaplan turned into the cluster of buildings that marked Marine TBS—The Basic School. Sure enough, two young recruits sat to the side, dressed in jungle camo with hats pulled low to shield their faces and thick black utility belts strapped around their waists. Kaplan, Quincy, and Rainie climbed out of the car, and immediately the two snapped to attention.
Kaplan made the introductions, while the recruits held their rigid stance.
“This is civilian Pierce Quincy. He is going to ask you some questions regarding the night, fifteen of July. This is his partner, Lorraine Conner. She may also ask you questions regarding the same evening. You will answer all of their questions to the best of your ability. You will accord them the full respect and cooperation you would give any Marine officer requesting your assistance. Is that clear?”
“Sir, yes sir!”
Kaplan nodded at Quincy. “You may proceed.”
Quincy raised a brow. The pomp and circumstance was a little extreme. Then again, Kaplan had taken a lot of hits recently. The FBI had forced him out of their world. Now he was showing off the power he still wielded in his.
Quincy approached the two Marines. “You were both on duty for the night shift, July fifteenth?”
“Sir, yes sir.”
“Both of you stopped each vehicle and checked each driver for proper ID?”
“We stopped all incoming vehicles, sir!”
“Did you check passengers for proper identification?”
“All visitors to the base must show proper identification, sir!”
Quincy shot Rainie another dry look. She didn’t dare meet his eye or she would start giggling or burst into tears or both. The morning had already taken on a surreal quality, and now it felt as if they were interviewing two trained seals.
“What kind of vehicles did you stop that night?” Quincy asked.
For the first time, no immediate answer was shouted forth. Both recruits were still staring straight ahead as procedure dictated, but it was clear they were confused.
Quincy tried again. “Special Agent Kaplan said you both reported heavy traffic that night.”
“Sir, yes sir!” both Marines cried out promptly.
“The majority of this traffic seemed to be National Academy students returning to the dorms.”
“Sir, yes sir!”
“Is it fair to say that these people mostly drove rental cars or their own personal vehicles? I would guess you saw a lot of small, nondescript automobiles.”
“Sir, yes sir.” Not quite as vehement, but still an affirmative.
“What about vans?” Quincy asked gently. “Particularly a cargo van arriving in the early morning hours?”
Quiet again. Both sentries wore a frown.
“We did see a few vans, sir,” one finally reported.
“Did you happen to note these vehicles in your logs, or glance at the license plates?”
“No, sir.”
Quincy’s turn to frown. “Why not?