Word of Honor (12 page)

Berg looked toward Van Arken. The General shook his head and offered, "We are right now in a tenuous legal position. "

Neither Truscott nor Berg replied.

Van Arken expanded on his opinion. "You must understand that a recall to duty would place Mr. Tyson not only under the jurisdiction of the Uniform Code of Military Jusfice but under its protection as well. As you noted in our first meeting, Mr. Truscott, the Army cannot court-martial a civilian.

So, by extension, the Army cannot investigate a civilian. Such an investigation by my office or the Army Criminal Investigation Division would certainly be a violation of the man's civil rights."

Berg nodded to himself. Clearly, Van Arken had thought this out. Clearly, too, Van Arken was making a power play. Berg turned to Truscott.

Peter Truscott was rubbing his chin. "Well, this is difficult. . . .

Perhaps the White House could order my office or the FBI to begin an investigation, then we could pass the findings on to the JAG --Van Arken interrupted, "I cannot accept the fruits of a civilian investigation in a case like this. Gentlemen, if you want this case killed or weakened because of procedural errors, then you are doing a fine job of it."

Berg glared at Van Arken for a few seconds but said nothing. Obviously, they'd reached an impasse.

Van Arken said suddenly, "I suspect that the White House doesn't want Mr.

Tyson in uniform."

Berg stood and poured himself some mineral water. "Well, they see that as a point of no return."

"We've already reached and passed that point. Read the newspapers.

Berg ignored this and continued, "Also, from a legal point of view, wouldn't it be prejudicial to Mr. Tyson if he was recalled to duty before we even assembled the facts? It seems to me that would be premature and ominous. TrusCott?"

Truscott answered, "Well ... no more so than if a sus-90 0 NELSON DEMILLE

pect were extradited from a foreign country. The government has to take certain steps in some cases to establish its jurisdiction. That shouldn't be construed as a presumption of guilt."

Berg remained standing and sipped on his mineral water. His eyes unconsciously went to the window, and he stared at the White House. He looked away and said, "Well, if we do that-recall Tyson to duty-it will make every newspaper in the country. I'd still like to retain the option of keeping a lid on this. - He turned to Van Arken. "Let's address the human element. What if Tyson spends six months or a year in the Army and it turns out he's innocent? You can't fool around with a man's life like that because of unfounded suspicions. Why can't we let this man go about his daily life until we are more certain there is reason to put him back in uniform?"

Van Arken replied, "I told you why. And I don't think Mr. Tyson is going about his daily life. A recall might be merciful. I'm human, too."

Berg snapped, "An Army induction notice in the mail is about as welcome and merciful as a public health notice regarding your last sexual partner."

Truscott chuckled.

Van Arken's normally florid face turned redder. He moved to the center of the room, as though he were on the verge of walking out. He seemed to be trying to control his voice as he spoke. "We have sufficient information to suspect that a crime has been committed. We have a suspect. We either take steps to bring the suspect under our jurisdiction, or we drop the case. But keep in mind that if we turn our backs on two hundred alleged victims, as Tyson apparently did at the time, then we are as guilty as he is." Van Arken added ominously, "We can probably count on appearing before a congressional inquiry."

Berg exhaled a long breath and said, "I'll speak to the President personally about what we've discussed."

Van Arken, still standing, said, "Why don't you ask the President to sign an order as Commander in Chief recalling Tyson? It would be less subject to challenge than an Armydirected recall."

Berg's tone was sharp. "General, you know damned well the President does not want to do that. This is purely an

WORD OF HONOR * 91

Army affair, as we all agree. So let's leave the President out of it. This is a simple murder trial, not an international incident, all right? Now, how long do you think it will take the Army to get Tyson back in the saddle?"

Van Arken drew a short breath, then replied curtly, "I can't prophesy that.

It depends on how hard Tyson fights the recall order."

Truscott added, "He can fight it all the way up to the Supreme Court."

Berg sat back in his chair. He wondered if a long legal battle over recall and jurisdiction would be such a bad thing. It would take the pressure off the executive branch and put it into the judiciary where it belonged.

Truscott seemed to sense what Berg was thinking. He said, "We can contact Tyson's attorneys or even Tyson directly. "

Berg looked at him. "Why?"

"Sometimes," said Truscott, "the direct approach is best. If we informed him or his attorney that a recall was being considered in order for us to proceed with an investigation, we might get some indication of how he intends to . . . respond. "

Berg glanced at Van Arken.

Truscott added, " If I were Tyson's attorney, I'd urge him to try to make a deal. In exchange for not challenging a recall order, I'd ask the Judge Advocate General's office for . . . well, something. " He turned to Van Arken. "What would you offer?"

"Nothing. "

Berg said, "Well, you'd offer him a fair court-martial, wouldn't you?" Berg wondered about Van Arken's actual motivations in pursuing this so aggressively. Berg had researched the General's psyche and philosophy, and on the surface the man appeared to be a staunch moralist and lawand-order advocate. Privately, he led a rather austere life, was unmarried, and lived in Army housing. It was rumored he owned two civilian suits: summer wool and winter wool. Both blue.

Berg stood. "All right, gentlemen, before we adjourn, I'd like to make a personal comment, and it is this: To some degree, society feels a shared sense of guilt and culpability

92 " NELSON DEMILLE

with their armed forces that they don't feel with the common criminal. So, if we eventually court-martial, convict, and imprison Benjamin Tyson, we should not expect to be national heroes. "

Van Arken's jaw hardened. "I'm not concerned with my popularity in the Army. And I'm not running for public office. "

Truscott stood. "Well, let's not have a row over this." He turned to Berg.

"Basically, the General is correct, and you ought to tell that to the President. Cover-ups don't work anymore. I'd rather do something unpopular than face a charge of conspiracy."

Berg nodded in agreement. "I'm not suggesting a coverup. I'm suggesting we balance whatever good a court-martial would do against the harm it will cause the nation."

Van Arken replied, "If we don't-or can't-see this through, then the system will have failed. And I can't think of a greater harm to a nation founded on law than that its justice system should fail-except perhaps that its public officials should have failed to try. I think, too, that if Mr. Tyson were in this room and he were objective, he'd agree. "

Berg smiled without humor. "Benjamin Tyson is fighting for his life, and he is not going to be objective. He is going to cause his government and his country great embarrassment. And I don't blame him." Berg picked up his attach6 case. "This is going to open old wounds, and those wounds will run with fresh blood. That facking war is going to come home again. God help us." Berg turned toward the door. "Meeting adjourned."

At 7:30 on a Tuesday morning, Benjamin Tyson walked into the

den City Golf Club, known unofficially as the Men's Club. The present building had been erected in 1899, the same year the women had been invited to leave, and the premises had developed, thought Tyson, that unique, ripe flavor peculiar to masculine establishments. Women, however, were invited to play the course once a year, though few availed themselves of this dubious honor.

Tyson surveyed the lounge area and saw a few men playing poker dice around a coffee table. He walked on, passed down the length of the bar, and entered the cathedral-ceilinged dining room. He walked through the room, nodded to a few people at the breakfast tables, and exited onto the rear terrace.

93

94 0 NELSON DEMILLE

Phillip Sloan sat at a small round table under a bluestriped umbrella, reading a newspaper. Tyson took the chair opposite. Sloan looked up. "Good morning." He poured Tyson a cup of coffee from a pewter pot.

"Thanks." Tyson drank the coffee black. He observed that Sloan's golfing attire contained all three primary colors, plus orange. Tyson looked out across the fairway. Men in bright plumage performed the repetitive rituals of ball and club. A hundred years before, when these acres had been pristine glacial outwash, the Carteret Gun Club had set up pigeon shoots, massacring a thousand birds at a shoot. And the Meadow Brook Hunt Club had also galloped through from time to time, hounds barking, horns blaring:

"the unspeakable in full pursuit of the uneatable. " Golf was tamer, but so were the times.

Golf was not Tyson's favorite sport, and neither was bird shooting or fox hunting. But he felt somehow that these Elysian fields had been sanctified by a century of hedonism; that regardless of what social changes enlightened the world and defined American democracy, there ought to be a few acres set aside for gentlemen to make asses of themselves. At least until the next glacier came through.

Sloan looked up from his newspaper, apparently just noticing that his companion was wearing a suit. "I thought you were going to play a round with me?"

"No, I'm catching the eight-forty-two. So let's wrap it up by eight-thirty."

Sloan seemed disappointed, then regarded Tyson thoughtfully. He said, "What is your status there?"

Tyson poured himself more coffee. "Where? On the eightforty-two?"

"Your job.

Tyson sipped on his coffee. Women, he noticed, alluded to the strains on his marriage. Men usually inquired about his job. Nearly no one was solicitous of his psyche. Tyson replied, "Hard to say, Phil. I mean, on the one hand you have the famous Japanese paternalism. On the other hand you have Japanese efficiency. I'm not very efficient these days. Added to that is the Nipponese obsession with appearances, face, and that sort of thing.

I embarrass them. " He smiled and added, "As a former samurai who has been WORD OF HONOR 0 95

disgraced, I should take the honorable way out. But American managers haven't yet embraced Japanese necrophilia. "

Sloan seemed uncomfortable with this line of conversation.

Tyson's tone was bitter. "You know, if old man Stutzman were still in charge, he'd have offered me the corporation's law firm to fight this."

Sloan waved a dismissive hand.

A waiter came to the table, and Tyson ordered eggs and orange juice. Sloan ordered sweet rolls and another pot of coffee. It struck Tyson that he had an irrational dislike for men who ate sweet rolls for breakfast.

Sloan reached into his briefcase and pulled out a folded newspaper page, handing it literally under the table to Tyson.

Tyson unfolded it and saw it was the front page of the American Investigator; not the one featuring Marcy, but the most recent edition of the weekly tabloid. One of the numerous headlines read: MR. PRESIDENT, WILL

JUSTICE BE DONE? That interrogatory headline, Tyson observed, was a sly way of suggesting to the American Investigator's readership that the Chief of State received a copy of the rag on the White House doorstep. Tyson noticed another frontpage story titled MARCY'S FRIENDS AND LOVERS TELL ALL. Tyson refolded the page without reading the text and handed it back to Sloan.

"So?"

"Well, the story about Marcy goes beyond the bounds of common decency and journalistic ethics. Even for this scandal sheet. The fellow Jones who's been covering the story has interviewed some of Marcy's college friends and

... people who claim to have been intimate with her."

Tyson poured cream into his coffee.

Sloan continued, "The article is libelous. Filled with titillation, sarcasm, innuendos, and suggestions of radical activities of a violent nature. Marcy was radical, as we know, but to the best of my knowledge, never violent. There are also gratuitous remarks about drugs. " Sloan hesitated, then added, "There is also a guarded mention of marital infidelity. "

Tyson didn't reply.

"Sleaze," Sloan continued. "Pure sleaze. And damned 96 0 NELSON DEMILLE

sure libelous. Look, this has gone on long enough. I think she ought to bring suit. I'm talking to you man-to-man, Ben. You don't have to get involved in the suit, but I thought I'd speak to you first. Now, we both know that Marcy is an independent woman, and she doesn't need her husband's permission to enter into a lawsuit. But tradition and common courtesy dictate that I speak to you first."

"Don't let her hear you say that."

Sloan affected a smile. "Well, we'll keep this conversation to ourselves.

But she is my client, and I'm going to speak to her. "

"That's your prerogative."

The breakfasts came, and Tyson buttered a slice of toast. Sloan bit into a sticky bun. Tyson asked, "Good?"

Sloan nodded as he chewed. "Want one?"

"No, thank you." Tyson took a forkful of eggs.

Sloan lifted a packet of sugar from a bowl and emptied the contents into his coffee. Tyson said, "They don't use sugar cubes anymore. Everyone uses those idiotic packets now. I'm going to speak to the manager."

"These are more sanitary-"

"But you can't build things with packets. I was going to show you the battle of Hue. Here, I can do it with paper and pen." Tyson took a pen from his inside pocket. "Give me one of those yellow pads you people always carry."

Sloan's eyes rolled slightly as he retrieved a legal pad from his briefcase.

Tyson began drawing as he ate.

Sloan glanced around the terrace and noticed a few people turn away. Both men ate in silence for a while as Tyson drew, then Sloan said, "Let's speak about your suit for a moment. All right, you have been libeled in print and slandered on TV and radio. All the damage that could be done is done. You have suffered acute personal embarrassment, irrevocable harm to your career and your character, causing you great psychological damage-"