The Edge

Chapter 70

Devine phoned Campbell and told him about the video.

“Benjamin Bing had a Purple Heart pinned to his chest. Presumably, he was in the military at some point and was wounded. I need you to find out all you can about his service record.”

“On it,” said Campbell before clicking off.

Devine locked up the house and walked back to the truck fingering his West Point graduation ring. The United States Military Academy had been the first school to issue class rings. They were awarded to cadets right after the start of their senior year at the Point. After that ceremony was the “hop,” a formal dinner and dance for cadets and their guests during “Ring Weekend.” Devine had invited his family, but none of them had shown up. He had hung out with a fellow cadet and his parents and siblings. Not the way he had envisioned this career milestone playing out, but life was always taking swings at you, he had found. And you couldn’t always duck in time. But Bing didn’t have a ring on. And a man who wore a Purple Heart around certainly would have worn his West Point or other service academy ring.

So he presumably hadn’t gone through West Point. But he still might have been an officer since there were other paths of commissioning in the Army.

Devine pulled off the road while the rain poured down, turning the roads a muddy brown from all the runoff. Off the coast the Atlantic thundered against the rocky shore with all it had, and still the Maine coast stood firm against every punch.

He looked down at his ring. It was more than an accessory or a prize to show off. It represented a connection to the Long Gray Line and the cadets’ opportunity to join that esteemed group on graduation day. He remembered one of his instructors telling him that while Devine continued to work toward his commissioning as an officer in the world’s most powerful military, his past, present, and future were all wrapped up, at least symbolically, by this thin band on his finger. It was an eternal bond to the Corps, to the Long Gray Line, allegiance to Duty, Honor, and Country.

Well, my “eternity” turned out to be a lot shorter than most.

There was an annual ring melt ceremony held at Eisenhower Hall Theatre. Rings from Army officers were donated and placed into a crucible. There were photos and information about the donors. Every donor, or their family, received a handwritten letter from a cadet in appreciation. The rings were then taken to Bartlett Hall Science Center, where they were melted into a gold ingot.

Devine had dreamed about his ring being donated one day, either as the last full measure given by him on the battlefield, or many decades into the future as he died of old age. Technically, he could still donate it, he supposed. But he no longer thought he had the right to do so. And it wasn’t like his family cared one way or another.

Okay, that’s enough self-pity for one day.

So Bing was former military. Devine wondered why no one had mentioned that to him. He wasn’t sure how it exactly figured into all of this. But someone with military ties could presumably get access to an experimental Norma round easier than most.

He checked his watch and pulled back onto the road. When he drove up to Jocelyn Point, Alex was waiting for him out front with a small bag.

She settled next to him and they headed to Bangor.

“Thanks for driving me,” she said.

“No problem. Do you even drive? I’ve just seen you on your bike.”

She looked out the windshield. “I never saw the point,” she replied.

He snatched a glance at her at the same moment she looked at him.

She then said, “Last night was wonderful.”

“Yes, it was.”

“I haven’t, that is to say, I...”

“I... I really wanted to be with you that night. I had to be with you. But, I’m afraid I might have taken advantage. You were in a vulnerable position.”

“If anything I took advantage of you, Travis. And so what? We’re human beings. Sometimes... sometimes, you just can’t help yourself.”

She turned away and they drove for a bit in silence as they headed inland.

He finally said, “I was watching a video of Wilbur Kingman’s funeral.”

She turned to him. “A video?”

“It was at Earl’s place. I don’t know where it came from. You were in it, along with pretty much everyone else in town.”

“It was all very sad. Wilbur was a good man.”

“Who wrecked his boat on a shoal he should never have hit?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Does anyone really know what happened out there?”

“Of course. Earl told us.”

“And now Earl’s dead.”

“Wilbur’s death was years ago. That can’t be connected to anything happening now.”

“I wish I was as sure of that as you are. Benjamin Bing was in the film. He was seated next to Earl. Bing was talking and Earl was listening, and he didn’t seem too happy about what was being said. They went off together. You know anything about that?”

“No, how could I?”

“I thought you might have seen or heard something. You walked out right after they did.” He paused to see if she might annotate his statement with what she might have been feeling that day, while in the vicinity of Benjamin Bing.

Like terror.

But she said nothing.

“Bing was in the military,” he said.

“Wait, he was?”

“You didn’t know that about him?”

“Um... maybe, I... I don’t remember. I just remember him as the police chief.”

“You remember nothing else about him?”

“Didn’t you ask me that before?” she said, a bite to her words.

“Sometimes you get new information when you keep asking the same question over and over, because people recall more.”

“I don’t want to talk about him. What you said before gave me the creeps.”

The rest of the drive went by in silence.