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The man blew out concentrated rings of smoke, then he pushed himself off the floor and shuffled away. I wondered what in hell was going on. Had somebody arranged the fight at the bar? The whole thing tonight? Who was the guy who had come over to talk to me? To give me advice “for my own good”?
A short while later, a guard came and took him away. He glanced my way as he was leaving. Then Sampson and I got to spend the night in the crowded, foul-smelling holding cell. We took turns sleeping.
In the morning, I heard someone call our names.
“Cross. Sampson.” One of the guards had opened the door to the holding cell. He was trying to wave away the stink. “Cross. Sampson.”
Sampson and I stiffly pushed ourselves up off the floor. “Right here. Where you left us last night,” I said.
We were led back upstairs and taken to the front lobby, where we got the day’s very first surprise. Captain Jacobs from CID was waiting there. “You all sleep well?” he asked.
“That was a setup,” I said to him. “The fight, the arrest. Did you know about it beforehand?”
“You can go now,” he said. “That’s what you should do. Get your stuff and go home, Detectives. Do yourselves a big favor while you still can. You’re wasting time on a dead man’s errands.”
Chapter 27
THE AWFUL STRANGENESS and frustration continued the day I got back to Washington. If anything, it got even worse. An e-mail was waiting for me in my office at home. The message was from someone who identified himself as “Foot Soldier.” Everything about the note was troubling and impossible for me to comprehend at that point.
It began:
For Detective Alex Cross,
Your general interest: The Pentagon is currently taking steps to prevent some of the more than one thousand deaths each year in the “peacetime army.” The deaths come from car crashes, suicides, and murders. In each of the past three years, at least eighty army soldiers have been murdered.
Specifics to think about, Detective: An army pilot named Thomas Hoff stationed at Fort Drum near Watertown, New York, was convicted of the slaying of a homosexual enlisted man on base. The convicted man claimed his innocence right up until the moment of his execution. In his defense, Hoff wasn’t actually stationed at Drum until three months after the murder was committed. He had visited a friend at Drum prior to the murder, however. His prints were found at the murder scene. Hoff’s service record was clean before his conviction for murder. He had been a “model soldier” until the supposed murder.
Another case for your consideration, Detective. An army barber, known by his friends as “Bangs,” was convicted of murdering three prostitutes outside Fort Campbell in Kentucky. Santo Marinacci had no criminal record before the killings. His pregnant wife testified that he was home with her on the night of the murders. Marinacci was convicted because of fingerprints and DNA found at the murder scene and because the murder weapon, a survival knife, was discovered in his garage. Marinacci swore that the knife was planted there. “For God’s sake, he’s a barber,” his wife called out during the eventual execution of her husband. Santo Marinacci claimed that he was innocent and had been framed up to the moment he died.
Foot Soldier
I read Foot Soldier’s e-mail over again, then I called Sampson at home. I read him the message. He didn’t know what to make of it either. He said he’d contact Ellis Cooper as soon as he hung up with me. We both wondered if Cooper might be behind the strange note.
For the rest of the day, I couldn’t get the disturbing message out of my head, though. Information had been passed to me that someone thought was important. No conclusions were reached. Foot Soldier had left that up to me. What was I supposed to make of the murders at Fort Drum and Fort Campbell? The possible frame-up?
That night I took a break for a few hours. I watched Damon’s basketball team play a league game at St. Anthony’s. Damon scored sixteen points, and he was as smooth an outside shooter as some high school kids. I think he knew it, but he wanted to hear my opinion of his play.
“You had a real good game, Damon,” I told him. “Scored points but didn’t forget about the rest of your team. Played tough D on number eleven.”
Damon grinned, even though he tried to hold it back. I had given the right answer. “Yeah, he’s the high scorer in the league. But not tonight.”
After we talked, Damon took off with some of his teammates, Ramon, Ervin, Kenyon. That was a new one, but I knew I better get used to it.
When I got home, I couldn’t stop thinking about Ellis Cooper and the e-mail about other murders by army personnel. According to Sampson, Cooper swore he didn’t have anything to do with it. Who then? Someone at Fort Bragg? A friend of Cooper’s?
That night in bed I couldn’t stop thinking about the damn note.
Innocent men might have been executed.
Sergeant Cooper wasn’t the first.
This has happened before.
Who the hell was Foot Soldier?
Chapter 28
I DESPERATELY NEEDED to see someone at the Army Court of Criminal Appeals, and the FBI helped me get an appointment with the right person.
