The Simple Truth by Baldacci. David

Author:Baldacci. David [Truth, The Simple]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-01-01T21:10:06+00:00

"Could you check and see if there's any case at the Court with the name Harms as one of the parties?"

The clerk nodded and started tapping buttons. After about a minute he shook his head.

"I'm not finding anything. When was it filed?"

"Recently. Within the last couple of weeks or so."

"I've gone back six months - there's nothing coming up. Didn't you ask me about this a while ago?"

Before Sara could answer, another voice spoke.

"Did you say Harms?"

Sara stared at the other clerk. "Yes. Harms was the last name."

"That's strange."

Sara's skin started to tingle. "What?"

"I got a call early this morning from a man asking about an appeal and he used that name. I told him we didn't have any case filing with that name."

"Harms? You're sure?" The clerk nodded. "How about a first name?" Sara asked, trying to suppress her excitement.

The clerk thought a moment.

"Maybe starting with anR ?" Sara prompted.

The clerk snapped his fingers. "That's right. Rufus, Rufus Harms. Sounds like a hick."

"Did the caller identify himself?"

"No. He got pretty upset."

"Anything else you can remember?"

The man thought a bit longer. "He said something about the guy rotting in a stockade, whatever that meant."

Sara's eyes opened wide and she started to race out.

"What's this all about, Sara? Does this have anything to do with the murders?" the clerk asked. Sara kept going without answering. The clerk hesitated for a moment and then looked around to see if anyone was watching. Then he picked up his phone and dialed a number. When it was answered, he spoke quietly into the receiver.

Sara almost sprinted up the stairs. The reference to thestockade had shown her that there was a big hole in Fiske's list. She reached her office, grabbed a card from her Rolodex and dialed the number. She was calling Military Police Operations. Fiske had covered both the federal and state prison populations, but he had not thought of the military. Sara's favorite uncle had retired from the Army as a brigadier general. She knew very well what a stockade was: Rufus Harms was a prisoner of the United States Army.

She got through to Master Sergeant Dillard, the corrections specialist on duty. "I don't have his prison ID number, but I believe he's incarcerated at a military facility within four hundred miles or so of Washington," she said.

"I can't give you that information. The official procedure is to send a written request to the deputy chief of staff for operations and plans. Then that department, in turn, will send your request to the Freedom of Information Act people. They may or may not answer your request depending on the circumstances."

"The thing is, I really need the information now."

"Are you from the media?"

"No, I'm calling from the United States Supreme Court."

"Right. How do I know that?"

Sara thought for a moment. "Call directory assistance for the general number for the Supreme Court. Then call the number they give you and ask for me. My name is Sara Evans."

Dillard sounded skeptical. "This is highly unusual."

"Please, Sergeant Dillard, it's really important.

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