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〃Right。 Unfortunately； we don't have the time to interview all the men in her diary。 And I'd hate to think of the FBI doing that； because they'll write a two…hundred…page report on every one of them。 Kent is a possible suspect； but I don't want him to be a convenient suspect like he…and some others here…tried to make of Colonel Moore。〃
〃I understand that。 But it just struck me at some point that Kent fits。〃
〃When did it strike you？〃
〃I don't know。 In the shower。〃
〃I'll pass on that。〃
〃Do you think he'll join us for a drink？〃
〃He was vague。 But if he's the murderer； he'll be there。 I've never seen it fail yet。 They want to be close； to see； to hear； to try to manipulate the investigation。 And the bright ones are not obvious about it。 I certainly wouldn't say that if Kent joined us for a drink he is the murderer。 But if he doesn't show up； I'd bet money that he isn't。〃
〃I understand。〃
In my years in the CID； I had managed to avoid every Department of the Army mandated personnel management class； sensitivity session； race and gender relations course； and so on； which was obviously why I was having problems in the new Army。 But I did take lots of leadership classes； and within those classes was everything you needed to know about human relations； such as： respect subordinates and superiors； don't ask your people to do anything you wouldn't do； earn respect； don't demand it； give praise when it's due。 So； in that spirit； I said to Cynthia； 〃You're doing a fine job； you've shown good initiative； good judgment； and poise under pressure。 You're very professional； very knowledgeable； and very hardworking。 It's a pleasure to be working with you。〃
〃Is this a recorded message？〃
〃No； I…〃
〃No feeling； Paul。 pletely atonal。 Speak from your heart； if you have one。〃
〃I resent that。〃 I pulled into the Officers' Club parking lot and nosed into a space。 〃That's judgmental； very…〃
〃I love you。 Say it。〃
〃I said it last year。 How many times…？〃
〃Say it！〃
〃I love you。〃
〃Good。〃 She jumped out of the Blazer； slammed the door； and began walking across the parking lot。 I followed and caught up。 We didn't exchange another word until we got into the main lounge。 I found an empty table in the corner and checked my watch； which gave me the civilian time of eight…fifteen P。M。 The dining room was full； but the lounge was half…empty now that half…price Happy Hour was over。 The new Army officially frowns on half…price Happy Hour； but the clubs are quasi…independent； and some of them still honor the ancient and honorable tradition of cheap whisky for an hour or two； a minor reward for putting up with bullshit that no civilian…except a recent immigrant from a military dictatorship…would put up with。 But the Army has its moments。 Unfortunately； there are fewer of them these days。 A waitress came around； and Cynthia ordered her bourbon and Coke； and I ordered a Scotch with a beer chaser。 I said； 〃I'm dehydrated。 God； it's hot out there。〃
〃You've been sweating like a pig all day；〃 she agreed。 She smiled。 〃You need a shower。〃
〃Do we have time？〃
〃We might have to share it again。〃
〃This is a demanding job。〃
The drinks came and we toasted。 She said； 〃To Ann Campbell。 We'll do our best for you； Captain。〃
We drank。
I said； 〃This case is getting to me。 Is that because of the case； or because I'm tired and old？〃
〃It's because of the case； Paul。 Because you care。 Because it's not just a case。 It's a human tragedy。〃
〃What other kind of tragedies are there？ We're all a heartbeat away from tragedy。〃
〃Right。 When we find the killer； it won't be a time to celebrate。 It will be another tragedy。 It will be someone who knew her。 Maybe loved her。〃
〃Like Kent。〃
〃Yes。 I keep thinking of something I read once 。。。 something I think about when I'm interviewing a woman who's been raped。 It goes like this…'pared to shame； death is nothing。' I think that's what happened here； starting with Ann Campbell's shame and humiliation at West Point。 I mean； think of it； Paul。 They teach officers to be proud； to be assertive； to stand tall。 People like Ann Campbell are already predisposed to this type of personality； so they gravitate toward someplace like West Point。 Then； when something like that happens； a rape； a humiliation； they can't handle it。 They don't bend like most people。 They stand tall； then snap。〃
I nodded。 〃I see that。〃
〃Right。 They pick up the pieces and go on； but they're never the same again。 I mean； no woman is after a brutal rape； but someone like Ann Campbell can't even begin to heal inside。〃
〃I understand that some people think that the only cure for shame and humiliation is revenge。〃
〃Correct。 So take that a step further and think of the average male officer。 He's been seduced by Ann Campbell in about twenty minutes； including drinks； he's been led into a sex room and encouraged or coerced into engaging in kinky acts； then at some point he's either discarded or asked by Ann to bend a few rules for her。 He has a mix of emotions…starting with a little male vanity at his conquest； but eventually； if he's married and if he takes any of this officer stuff seriously； he feels shame。 Most men would not feel a great deal of shame for a consensual sex act； but some men…officers； clergy； pillars of the munity…will feel shame。 So we get back to 'pared to shame； death is nothing。' Or call it dishonor； to put it in a military context。 This could apply to Ann Campbell； General Campbell； and to any number of men who either wished themselves or Ann Campbell dead。 That's why I think it was someone she knew； someone who felt that the act of murder was a way to end the shame and dishonor of the victim as well as of the murderer。 Kent； as a ramrod kind of cop； an officer； might well fit that theory。〃
I nodded again。 I'd thought something similar； though with a different slant。 But it was interesting that we both had a psychological profile of the killer that could fit Kent。 Then again； there's nothing like hindsight。 〃Kent；〃 I said； 〃Kent。〃
〃Speaking of whom 。。。〃
In walked Colonel Kent； and a few heads turned。 Any post's top cop usually gets a few heads to turn； a few side glances。 But now； at Hadley； with a sensational murder still hot news； Kent was the man of the hour。 He saw us and walked over。
Cynthia and I stood； as was customary。 I might shove it up his butt in private； but in public I gave him the respect he was supposed to deserve。
He sat and we sat。 A waitress came over and Kent ordered drinks for us and a gin and tonic for himself。 〃On me；〃 he said。
We chatted awhile； everyone agreeing what a strain this had been and how tempers were getting short； sleepless nights； hot days； and all that crap。 As casual and chatty as Cynthia and I were； Kent was a pro and he smelled the rat； or perhaps felt like the rat being maneuvered into the corner。
He said to us； 〃Will you stay on awhile after the funeral； and brief the FBI？〃
〃I think that's what we're supposed to do；〃 I replied。 〃But I'd like to be gone by nightfall tomorrow。〃
He nodded； then smiled at us。 〃You two getting along？ Or is that a leading question？〃
Cynthia returned the smile。 〃We're renewing our friendship。〃