Four Blind Mice

Chapter One Hundred and Ten

I climbed steep stone steps and let myself into the well-kept, redbrick building that housed the offices of the commandant of West Point. A soldier with a 'high and tight' haircut was sitting behind a dark wood desk that held a highly polished brass lamp and orderly stacks of papers and portfolios.

He looked up, cocking his head like a curious and alert grade-school student. “Yes, sir. Can I help you, sir?”

“My name is Detective Alex Cross. I believe General Hutchinson will see me. Please tell him that I'm here.”

The soldier's head remained tilted at the curious angle. “Yes, sir, Detective. Could you tell me something about your business with the general, sir?”

“I'm afraid that I can't. I believe the general will see me, though. He already knows who I am.” I went and sat on a stuffed chair across the room. “I'll be right here waiting for him.”

The soldier at the desk was clearly frustrated; he wasn't used to civil disobedience, especially not in General

Hutchinson's office. He thought about it, then he finally picked up the plain black phone on his desk and called someone farther up the chain of command. I figured that was a good thing, a necessary next step.

A few minutes passed before a heavy wood door behind his heavy wood desk opened. An officer in uniform appeared and walked straight over to me.

“I'm Colonel Walker, the general's adjudicator. You can leave now, Detective Cross,” he said. “General Hutchinson won't be seeing you today. You have no jurisdiction here.”

I nodded. “But I do have some important information General Hutchinson should listen to. It's about events that took place during his command in the An Lao Valley. This was in sixty-seven through seventy-one, but in particular sixty-nine.”

“I assure you, the general has no interest in meeting with you or hearing any old war stories you have to tell.”

“I have a meeting set up with the Washington Post about this particular information,” I said. “I thought the general should hear the allegations first.”

Colonel Walker nodded his head once, but he didn't seem impressed or worried. “If you have someone in Washington who wants to listen to your story, you should go there with it. Now please leave the building or I'll have you escorted out.”

“No need to waste the manpower,” I said, and got up from the cushy armchair. “I'm good at escorting myself.”

I went outside on my own steam and walked to my car. I got in and slowly drove up the pretty main drag that cuts through West Point. I was thinking hard about

'" 368

what to do next. Eventually I parked on a side street lined with tall maples and oaks that had a majestic view of the Hudson.

I waited there.

The general will see me.

A.V,