“Really? I’m not a pilot but I’ve certainly flown a lot. I love it.”
“I could take you up sometime. Wonderful views of the area.”
“That’d be great. So long as you avoid the airspace over Camp Peary, I suppose.”
“Don’t worry. Those parameters are programmed into my flight computer.” He paused. “You seem to be showing me a lot of attention.”
“You’re an interesting person.”
“And a possible suspect.”
“I understand you have an alibi for the time Len Rivest died.”
“I was working, yes.”
“And how is it all coming?”
“With luck we’ll have a rudimentary prototype ready early next year.”
“And then the world ends, at least that’s what Sean said he was told.”
“Hardly. No, that computer will only be able to do very basic calculations. We’re still several years away from really shocking the world.”
“That’s a long time to wait.”
“In the world of physics that’s actually pretty fast.” He finished his wine.
“And so how are things coming with Viggie?”
“She’s a good kid. I like her. And I feel for her situation too. It can’t be easy.”
“Monk wasn’t an easy fellow to read. As the Brits say he kept himself very much to himself.”
“Speaking of the Brits, I understand he traveled to England recently.”
“Right. He said he needed to attend to some family matters.”
“Did he say anything to you when he got back? About what other countries he might have visited?”
“Not really. I guess if you have his passport that will tell you where he traveled.” Champ snapped his fingers. “Wait a minute. I can’t believe I didn’t remember it before. He brought me a present. It was smart of him because his leaving at that point wasn’t convenient.”
“Present. From where? England?”
“No, it was a beer stein from Germany.”
“Germany? You’re sure?”
“I have it back at my cottage if you want to see for yourself.”
Champ’s cottage wasn’t as sloppy as his office, but it wasn’t exactly in the class of a Sean King operation either. She found herself giving the physicist high marks for his untidiness.
He led her into a small book-lined study. On one shelf sat a large elaborately decorated blue beer stein. He handed it to her.
“This is it. Pretty nice, although I’m not really a beer drinker.”
Michelle examined the stein closely. It had a hinged pewter top with famous venues from major German cities painted on the side in raised relief. She turned it over and looked at the bottom. “It doesn’t say where it’s from. Just that it was made in Germany.”
“Right. I guess it could have come from anywhere.”
“Can I hold on to this?” she asked.
“Be my guest, if it’ll get us closer to the truth. I wish I could help somehow.”
“There is something you can do,” she said. He looked expectant. “You can let Horatio Barnes stay at Babbage Town.”
Champ looked taken aback by this and Michelle added quickly, “Just room and board. It would mean a lot to me.”
“Well, I guess it can’t hurt,” he said slowly.
“Thanks, Champ, I appreciate it. By the way I saw the martial arts outfit on the door of your office. Which one are you into?”
“Tae Kwon Do. Black belt. You?”
“No,” she lied.
As they walked outside into the sunshine, Champ said, “I can pick you up day after tomorrow around nine if the weather holds.” He adjusted his glasses. “Uh, on the way back I know a nice little restaurant that actually has a pretty decent menu.”
Michelle eyed the man’s tall, lanky frame. He would certainly have had the physical strength to kill Rivest by using a plunger to hold the drunken man underwater until he drowned. But as Sean had said, Champ had an alibi for the time of the murder.
Or did he?
CHAPTER 59
“YOU SEEM TO BE the resident expert on Camp Peary around here,” Horatio said. He was seated across from South Freeman in the latter’s office.
“Yeah, but these days nobody wants to listen,” South said bitterly. “Let the CIA do whatever the hell it wants to. I just keep my head down now before it gets blown off.”
“Well, most Americans want to be safe by any means possible.”
“Yeah? Don’t get me going on that logic; it won’t be pretty.”
Horatio went over briefly what Sean had filled him in on when he and Michelle had visited South Freeman. “Now he wants to know what other history there is about the place that might not be widely known.”
“That fellow’s interested in Monk Turing’s death, right?” Horatio nodded. “Well, I am too. And if anything I tell you helps break that case, I want an exclusive. And I mean exclusive. Put my weekly rag back on the map, man, I’m telling you.”
“I’m not sure I can speak for Sean on that.”
Freeman immediately scowled. “Then you can get the hell out of here. I don’t hand out favors for nothing; goes against all my principles.”
Horatio hesitated only for an instant. “Okay, I’m making an executive decision. We break the case using something you gave us, you get the story first. I can put it in writing if you want.”
“Writing doesn’t mean shit with slick lawyers hovering around.” South held out his hand for Horatio to shake. “I like to look a man in the eye and press the flesh on it. You screw me later I’ll come and kick your ass.”
“What a sweet-talker you are.”
South said, “So what are you really interested in?”
“Well, why don’t you go through it chronologically? I know some about the CIA and Camp Peary, but what about before that? I understand the Navy trained Seabees there for World War II but was there anything else going on?”
“Oh, yeah, a lot going on. Like I told your buddies, there were two towns over there, Magruder and Bigler’s Mill. Magruder was named after, what else? A Confederate general; seems to have been a trend down this way.” He snorted. “My parents obviously had different reasoning when they named me South.”
“South Freeman,” Horatio said. “Clever.”
“Yeah. Anyway, Bigler’s Mill was built on the site of a Civil War hospital. So the stage was all set when the Navy came knocking on the door.”
“I wonder why the military picked that area?”
“You mean aside from it being occupied by colored folks who didn’t have any voice? Well, you got a lot of cheap land, water nearby-we are talking the Navy after all, and the C amp;O Railway ran a spur track down from Williamsburg and made Magruder’s Station.”
“Why was that? For bringing sailors and supplies down?”
“Yep. Most folks don’t realize that back then the railroad was how most troops got around in this country. But there was another reason for the spur.”
“What was that?”
“When the Navy operated the place it also held a military stockade.”
“Stockade? You mean a prison for American soldiers who’d committed crimes?”
“Nope. It was for German prisoners of war.”
“Germans?”
“They were sailors mostly. They came from subs and ships that were sunk off the East Coast. Crazy man Hitler thought these fellows had been killed of course. That’s why all the secrecy. The government didn’t want anybody to know those Germans were being held there.”
Horatio said, “Why? What was the big deal?”
South pointed at him and grinned. “Now that’s the sixty-four-thousanddollar question, ain’t it?”
“You’ve obviously thought about it. What’s your take?”
“Well, there’s an obvious one. If we were getting those boys to talk, spill secrets or capturing them with Enigma codebooks the German navy was using, then Hitler and his cronies would move heaven and earth to kill them. And make no bones about it, there were a lot of German spies and assassins over here then. At the very least it seemed that the tide in the Atlantic war turned about the time those POWs showed up at Camp Peary, so I’m betting our boys got them to talk about the Enigma code.”