“I, I was told that, that you’re a good detective and, um, um, honest.”

“By whom?” I asked, using my best English.

“A man named Larker. Kirkland Larker.”

“I don’t know anybody by that name.”

Kilian stared at me, a deer frozen in the headlights.

“Is he a vet?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“What war?”

“’Nam.”

“I wasn’t ever there. He a black man?”

“Can you help me?” Craig asked instead of answering the question.

“I take it you need somebody honest because there’s something questionable that needs investigating.”

“Why you say that?”

“The bruise on your head. You dragging your feet instead of telling me why you’re here. The fact that you won’t look me in the eye.”

“I need somebody I can trust,” he said, looking directly at me.

“To do what?”

The question could have been two live wires pressed against the hinges of his jaw. His face went through exaggerated contortions like a cartoon bad guy who, for all his brutish strength, could not crush Popeye to dust.

All of this was simply prelude to the sudden, thunderous aftershock of the explosion that reverberated in the room.

3

3

The windowpanes behind me rattled in their frames. I could feel the air bulging against my eardrums.

It was just another sonic boom, a military jet breaking the sound barrier. I’d heard it so many times that it meant nothing. But for the recent graduate from Vietnam University it was life-and-death.

In an instant Craig was flying over the broad desk straight at me.

I moved to the right, but not fast enough.

Craig’s powerful left arm ensnared me and for a moment I believed that I was going to experience my last moments at the hands of a battle-hardened vet who had lost his sanity in the jungles of Vietnam. But instead of knifing, choking, or battering me, the young lion backed into the nearest corner, pulling me along as a kind of shield. He was shivering, and a low moan, almost a growl, emanated from his chest.

Pushing free, I turned to face him, to provide cover from the imagined attack. He had his head buried in his arms. A preternatural stillness set upon him.

“It’s okay, soldier,” I said calmly to the top of his head. “It’s okay. It was just a sonic boom. A sonic boom. You’re safe. Safe.”

“How many, Sergeant?” he asked softly. “How many are there?”

“They’re all dead, soldier. They’ve been dead a long time. You’re safe, safe and sound.”

I placed a hand on his right shoulder, causing him to jerk away and gasp.

“It’s all right,” I said. “They’re all dead. Dead and gone.”

When I laid my hand on him this time he didn’t resist.

“I can hear ’em,” he said. “I can hear ’em in the night when everybody else is sleepin’. I hear ’em.”