Ghost Writer(88)

Despite the pain and a muzzy feeling that my brain wasn't working properly yet, I managed to make a small intuitive leap. “But you suspected Tim. You had Sergeant Dippel following him.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kirby. Neville was placed on your team to report on, and possibly hinder, your progress. I suspected he had other orders, but it took a while for me to confirm that he was working from his own agenda.”

One of my hands had gone back to holding the cold pack on my jaw. The other held the first arm up by the elbow. I tried to convey the idea that I would wait forever for a complete explanation. In fact, I was ready to keel over any time now.

“I think Jen deserves to hear what you just finished telling us,” said Franchot to Tinsdale. “I also think we should invite her to sit. Chief, if you could pick up that chair, you can help her to my seat.”

Gravell picked up the fallen chair and held it for me. As I sat back, I felt his knuckles graze my shoulder blades, and I pressed against them for reassurance. His thumb gave me the tiniest stroke before he straightened no doubt to stand at parade rest.

“I'd like to check on the gunny, with your permission, Captain. I’ll leave you fill in the details.”

The captain nodded, first to Tinsdale, then to Gravell.

“I anticipated your request, sir,” said Gravell, not moving from his self-appointed post behind me. “I have a man standing by to escort you to sick bay.”

Franchot took the seat Tinsdale left. He gave me the shadow of a smile and shot a concerned look over my shoulder at Gravell.

Campbell passed Franchot his drink and offered one to me. I shook my head. I was already feeling weak and achy. Alcohol would not help.

Finally the captain sat and addressed himself to me. “Tim Neville is with US Naval intelligence. As Captain Tinsdale mentioned, he was placed with your documentary crew to keep them informed.”

I caught Franchot’s eye.

He gave me a sheepish grimace. “It was a surprise to me too, Jen. Tinsdale only told me about Neville because it was the only way to keep him with the team. Reuben and Dora were all for laying him off with the rest of the documentary crew. I couldn’t tell anyone though. Sorry.”

Campbell swished the ice around in his glass, a summons for our attention.

“In addition to Neville, Captain Tinsdale had two investigators from the Judge Advocate General's office reporting to him. One of them was injured in the control room when the explosions went off.”

“That charge was new,” I said.

Campbell looked surprised.

Francot nodded. “That’s what made Tinsdale suspicious. The only people who could have laid the charge were the divers who did the precheck. He couldn’t see one of my divers doing it. That left Neville.”

“As you no doubt remember, Ms. Kirby, he was talking to you when you were cut off,” Campbell said. “He was on board when the barrier was tampered with, and on the émil Gagnan when your diving gear was sabotaged, then again, on the station. By that time, he was being watched by Dippel.”

“But he gave Dippel the slip by attaching himself to me.”

Campbell gave me an apologetic grimace. “We didn't know he was trying to kill you, only that he wanted to scuttle the station. The two most likely places to accomplish that were in engineering or the torpedo room.”

“So, you were kept in the loop?” I asked Franchot.

“Alex and I knew that Neville was a suspect.”

“And you, Chief Gravell?”

I stood, shaky on my feet, but determined to watch him when he answered. He was, as I had guessed, standing at parade rest, hands behind his back, eyes forward. Without otherwise breaking his pose, his eyes lowered to meet mine.

“I was the one who alerted the others to the possible danger to you. Neville was, as I told you, a suspect. I had no knowledge of the plan to use you as bait.”

“But you did,” I said, turning to Captain Campbell.

“The plan was worked out between Captain Tinsdale, Sergeant Dippel, and me.” He set down his whisky, still untouched. “Neville was to be given the opportunity to create another accident. To do that, it was necessary to keep Chief Gravell out of the way, make you seem more vulnerable. No one expected him to attack you directly in your quarters. I have no idea why he would expose himself that way.”

“I do.”

I wobbled and steadied myself on the chair. A warm hand on my lower back steadied me. I resisted the urge to turn and thank Gravell and kept my gaze fixed on Captain Campbell.

“Must be almost dinner time. Think I'll wait until we're at the table.”

Campbell shook his head. “You can't be serious, and I can't believe Doc would allow it. In any case, I can't allow it.”

Though my voice was level, it was getting a bit slurred from the swelling on my jaw. I made the effort to speak clearly, though it hurt to do so. “With all due respect, Captain, if you want to know what I know, you'll have to allow it.”

I was angry, and I felt betrayed, but years of dealing with temperamental clients made me back-peddle a little, for diplomacy's sake. “If the skipper and chief would give us a moment alone. I think I can make a case you will accept.”

Campbell nodded.

Franchot nodded and gave my shoulder a pat on the way out.

Gravell hesitated, then he too complied, leaving me alone with a man with whom, a few days ago, I was thoroughly infatuated. I sat, only because standing was no longer a viable option.