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[FOUR]
The Warwick Hotel 1701 Locust Street Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 0725 9 June 2005
Castillo looked up and down Locust Street, his eyes falling on a life-sized statue of a man with an umbrella erected almost directly across the street. Then he heard two beeps of a horn and when he looked for the sound saw Miller’s arm waving from the front seat of a dark blue Buick sedan parked fifty feet from the hotel entrance.
He walked quickly toward it, and, as he approached, Miller opened the rear door from the inside.
The driver was a small, wiry, light-skinned man with a precisely manicured mustache.
“Good morning, General,” Castillo said, courteously.
Major General H. Richard Miller, Sr., USA, Retired, turned on the seat and pointed a finger at Castillo.
“The first time I saw you, Castillo—you were a plebe at the time—I knew you were going to be trouble.”
“Sir, if the general is referring to Dick’s . . . return . . . from Africa. That situation has been taken care of, sir.”
“ ‘Taken care of’? What the hell does that mean? Good God, a Miller relieved for cause!”
“How, Charley?” Major H. Richard Miller, Jr., asked.
“The president is sending you a letter of commendation, via the Defense Intelligence Agency CG,” Castillo said. “Secretary Hall called last night to tell me.”
“What that will do,” General Miller said, not at all molli fied, “is cause Dick’s records to be flagged ‘political influence. ’ That’s almost as bad as the comment ‘relieved for cause.’ ”
General Miller moved his icy glare from Castillo long enough to look for a break in the traffic, found one, and pulled away from the curb.
Major Miller turned on the seat, and with a combination of facial expressions, shrugged shoulders, and other body language managed to convey to Castillo that he was sorry his father had attacked Castillo, but, on the other hand, that Charley knew the general and thus what to expect.
Charley used a combination of gestures to signal that he understood the situation and that he didn’t mind.
Castillo thought: Jesus Christ, thank God I didn’t go home with Dick last night! If I had, I would have had non-stop General Miller in an outrage. This will be over as soon as we get to Police Headquarters, and, no thank you, Dick, I will not go home with you later to at least say hi to your mother.
Their route to Police Headquarters took them around City Hall and toward the Delaware River. Castillo thought he remembered that Constitution Hall and the Liberty Bell were somewhere in the area but he wasn’t sure.
Jesus, here I am, trying to keep a bunch of lunatic terrorists from crashing an airplane into it and I don’t even know where it is!
Police Headquarters turned out to be a curved building a couple of blocks off Market Street. The parking lot into which General Miller drove the Buick had a sign reading POLICE VEHICLES ONLY. General Miller pulled the car into a parking slot with a sign reading CHIEF INSPECTORS ONLY, turned off the ignition, and opened the door.
Then he put his head back in the door and announced, “Let’s go, Castillo! We don’t want to keep the commissioner waiting, do we?”
My God, he’s going with us!
“Sir, are you going with us?”
General Miller’s response was a shake of the head, indicating his disgust with a stupid question, followed by an impatient hand gesture meaning, “Let’s go, let’s go!”
There is absolutely nothing I can do about this.
What the hell is he up to?
A policeman walked up to them.
“Sir, you can’t park there, that’s reserved for chief inspectors. ”
“I’m General Miller, here to see the commissioner,” the general replied. “He advised me to park there. I’m surprised you weren’t so notified. If there is a problem, I suggest you call him.”
The policeman looked at General Miller carefully and then nodded and walked away.
