“Does he strike you as suffering from the same problems you suggested his sister was suffering from?”
“To some extent… but he chose to distance himself from the family. That’s how he deals with it. During the Gulf War, for instance, when some California TV station wanted to interview him, they couldn’t find him.”
Cynthia asked, “Would you describe him as alienated from his parents?”
“Alienated? No… just distant. When he’s home, they all seem quite happy to see him, and then sad that he’s left.”
“And how was the relationship between brother and sister?”
“Very good, from what I could see. Ann Campbell was very accepting of him.”
“In regard to his… what? His life-style?”
“Yes. John Campbell—that’s his name—is gay.”
“I see. And did General Campbell accept this?”
Fowler thought a moment, then replied, “I think he did. John Campbell was always discreet—never brought male lovers home, dressed pretty much mainstream and all that. I think if the general hadn’t had his hands full with his daughter and her indiscretions, he might have been more disappointed in his son. But compared to Ann, John is a solid citizen.”
“I understand,” Cynthia said. “Do you think that General Campbell perhaps pushed his daughter into a traditional male role—I mean West Point and the Army—to make up for his son’s lack of interest in those pursuits?”
“That’s what everyone says. But, as with most of life, things aren’t that pat. In fact, Ann was a very enthusiastic cadet at West Point. She wanted to be there and she did very well. After her four-year active-duty obligation, she stayed in. So, no, I don’t think the general pushed her or coerced her, or withheld affection from her as a child, if, for instance, she showed no interest in going to the Point. That’s what this psychologist suggested, but it was very much the opposite. Ann Campbell, as I remember her in high school, was a tomboy, and a good candidate for a military career. In fact, she wanted to continue the tradition. Her father’s father was a career Army officer as well.”
Cynthia thought a moment, then reminded him, “You said she hated the Army.”
“Yes… I said that, but, as you pointed out, it was her father she hated.”
“So you were in error when you said that?”
“Well…”
It’s always good to highlight a lie, even a small one, during an interrogation. It puts the suspect or witness on the defensive, where he or she belongs.
Colonel Fowler sought to correct his original statement and said to Cynthia, “She originally liked the Army. I can’t say with certainty how she felt about it recently. She had too much anger, and she had other motives for staying in the service.”
“I think I have that clear now.” She asked him, “Can you give us some idea of the relationship between Ann Campbell and her mother?”
Colonel Fowler considered this a moment, then replied, “They had a decent relationship. Mrs. Campbell, contrary to what some people think, is a strong woman, but she’s chosen to defer to her husband in terms of his career, his various postings around the world, including ones where she could not accompany him, and in terms of entertaining people she may not personally care for, and those sorts of things. I use the term ‘chosen’ because that’s what it is—a choice. Mrs. Campbell is from the old school, and if she makes a commitment to the marriage, she will stick with it, or leave the marriage if she changes her mind. She will not gripe and complain and sulk as so many modern wives do today who want to have their cake and eat it, too.”
He glanced at Cynthia, then continued, “She will not embarrass her husband with breaches of conduct, she will take the good with the bad, she will recognize her own worth as a wife and partner, and will not get a job selling real estate downtown in a pathetic attempt to declare her independence. She does not wear the general’s stars, but she knows that he would not be wearing them either if it weren’t for her help, dedication, and loyalty over the years. You asked me about Ann’s relationship with her mother, and I told you about Mrs. Campbell’s relationship with her husband, but now you can figure out the answer to your question.”
I nodded. “Yes, I can. And did Ann try to change her mother’s behavior or philosophy?”
“I think she did at first, but Mrs. Campbell basically told her to mind her own business and stay out of her marriage.”
Cynthia commented, “Good advice. But did it strain their relationship?”
“I’m not very attuned to mother-daughter relationships. I came from a family of four boys, and I have three sons of my own. I can’t fathom women in general and I’ve never seen a mother-daughter relationship up close. But I know they never did things together, such as shopping or tennis or planning parties. But they would dine together, alone, at times. Is that good enough for you?”
Cynthia nodded, then asked, “Did Mrs. Fowler know Ann Campbell well?”
Colonel Fowler replied, “Fairly well. It comes with the social territory.”
“And of course Mrs. Fowler knows Mrs. Campbell well, so perhaps I can speak to Mrs. Fowler—about the mother-daughter relationship.”
Colonel Fowler hesitated for a beat, then replied, “Mrs. Fowler is very upset, as you may have noticed. So unless you’re insisting, I’d have to say wait a few days.”
Cynthia inquired, “Will Mrs. Fowler be available? Or is she so upset that she may go somewhere for a rest?”
Colonel Fowler looked at Cynthia and replied, “As a civilian, she can come and go as she pleases, if I read your subtext correctly.”
“You do read me correctly, Colonel. I don’t want to have to get a subpoena. I’d like to speak to her today. I don’t have a few days, as it turns out.”
Colonel Fowler took a deep breath. Obviously, we were more than he’d bargained for and he wasn’t used to this kind of pressure from subordinates. I think the fact that we were in civilian clothes helped him put up with this crap and kept him from throwing us out, which is why the CID often chooses mufti for the dirty stuff. Fowler replied, finally, “I’ll see if she’s up to it this afternoon.”
“Thank you,” Cynthia replied. “It would probably be better if she spoke to us, rather than her having to speak to the FBI.”
Colonel Fowler got the message and nodded.
I asked him, “For the record, Colonel, can you tell me your whereabouts on the night that Captain Campbell was killed?”
He smiled and said, “I thought that was the first question you were supposed to ask. Well, where was I? I worked until about 1900 hours, then attended a going-away party for an officer in the grill at the O Club. I excused myself early and was home by 2200 hours. I did some paperwork, made some calls, and Mrs. Fowler and I retired at 2300 hours.”
It would be silly of me to ask him if Mrs. Fowler would verify that, so I asked instead, “And nothing unusual happened during the night?”
“No.”
“And you awakened at what time?”
“At 0600 hours.”
“And then?”
“Then I showered, got dressed, and was at work at about 0730 hours.” He added, “Which is where I should be now.”
“And you called Captain Campbell’s house at about 0800 hours and left a message on her answering machine.”
“Correct. General Campbell called me from his home and asked me to do that.”
“He didn’t want to call her himself?”
“He was annoyed and he knew Mrs. Campbell was disappointed, so he asked me to place the call.”
“I see. As it happens, however, we were in her house before 0800, and when we got there, the message was already on the machine.”
There was what you call a moment of silence, and in microseconds, Colonel Fowler was going to have to guess if I was bluffing, which I wasn’t, or if he had a better story. He looked me in the eye and said, “Then my time is wrong. It must have been earlier. What time were you in her home?”
“I’
ll have to check my notes. Can I assume you didn’t call her before 0700 hours to say she was late for a 0700-hour breakfast?”
“That would be a logical assumption, Mr. Brenner, though I’ve often called her prior to such an appointment to remind her.”
“But on this occasion, you said, ‘Ann, you were supposed to stop by the general’s house this morning.’ Then you said something about breakfast, followed by, ‘You’re probably sleeping now.’ So if she got off duty at, let’s say, 0700, and you called at, say, 0730 hours, she’d barely be home, let alone asleep.”
“That’s true… I suppose I wasn’t thinking very clearly. I may have forgotten she was on duty, and I meant that she was probably not awake yet.”
“But you mentioned duty in your message. The whole sentence was, ‘You were supposed to stop by the general’s house this morning after you got off duty.’ ”
“Did I say that?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, put it down to my error in times. I may have called as early as 0730. I know I called right after the general called me. Captain Campbell apparently agreed to meet her parents at 0700 hours, and though she would normally have been relieved at about that time by the officer designated to arrive at 0700 for work, it wouldn’t have been unusual for her to leave early and leave the duty sergeant in charge until relieved.” He added, “Are you having a problem with this, Mr. Brenner?”
“No problem.” Not for me; big problem for you. I asked, “Considering that Captain Campbell and her father were not on good terms, why was she having breakfast with him?”
“Well, they did dine together now and then. I told you, she saw her mother fairly often.”
“Could this breakfast meeting have been for the purpose of Ann Campbell delivering her answer to the general’s ultimatum?”
Fowler considered a moment, then replied, “Yes, it could have been.”
“Do you find it curious that only hours before she had to reply to his ultimatum, she was found dead? Do you think there’s any connection?”
“No, I think it’s coincidence.”
“I don’t believe in coincidence. Let me ask you this, Colonel: is there anything further that General Campbell required of his daughter as part of his ultimatum?”
“Such as what?”
“Well, such as names. Names of the men on post she’d slept with. Was General Campbell going to make a clean sweep?”
Colonel Fowler thought about that, then replied, “That’s entirely possible. But Ann Campbell didn’t care who knew and would have been delighted to tell her father.”
“But the married officers who she slept with cared very much and would not have been as delighted.”
“I’m sure they did care,” Fowler replied. “But most, if not all, of them realized they couldn’t count on her discretion.” He said, “You know, Mr. Brenner, most married men have ambivalent feelings about sexual indiscretions.” He looked at Cynthia, then continued, “On the one hand, they are terrified of being found out by their wives or families, or certain friends or superiors. On the other hand, they are proud of their exploits and actually brag about their conquests. When the conquest is the beautiful daughter of their boss, they can barely contain themselves and tend to shoot their mouths off. Believe me, we’ve all been there.”
I smiled. “Indeed we have, Colonel.” I added, “But talk is one thing; photos, lists, and affidavits are another. What I’m suggesting is that somehow, perhaps through Ann Campbell herself, some of her lovers learned that General Campbell had had enough and was demanding from his daughter a full accounting of her seductions. Someone may have decided that it was time to get rid of the evidence. To get rid of Ann Campbell.”
Fowler nodded. “That thought crossed my mind. In fact, I never thought it was a total stranger who killed her. But can you explain to me why someone who wanted to shut her up would kill her that way and draw attention to the sexual nature of the act and of the victim?”
Good question. I replied, “It may have been a cover to conceal the nature of the act. The perpetrator needed to kill her but added the rape to confuse the investigation. I’ve had two husbands who murdered their wives that way to make it look like a stranger did it.”
Fowler commented, “This is your area of expertise, not mine. I see your point, but how many men would actually murder a woman just to shut her up? It’s a lot less risky to face a court-martial for actions unbecoming an officer than to face a court-martial for murder.”
“I agree, Colonel, but then, we’re rational men. In the irrational world, one of the prime motivators for homicide is to avoid disgrace and humiliation. Says so in the manual.”
“Well, again, that’s your area of experience, not mine.”
“But think about who among Ann Campbell’s lovers might consider committing murder to avoid disgrace, divorce, court-martial, and dismissal from the service.”
“Mr. Brenner, your prime suspect, Colonel Moore, was not involved with her sexually from what I hear. So he had no obvious reason for shutting her up. But he may have had many other reasons for raping her and killing her. So you ought to concentrate on his motivations if that’s all that is keeping you from arresting him.”
“I’m certainly following that avenue as well, Colonel. I like to conduct homicide investigations like infantry and armor commanders conduct a campaign—multiple avenues of advance—a feint, a probing attack, a main thrust, then a breakthrough and encirclement.” I added, “Surround ’em and pound ’em.”
He smiled wryly, as I knew he would, and said, “That’s a good way to squander your resources and to lose the initiative. Go right for the kill, Mr. Brenner, and leave the fancy stuff for the chalkboard in the tactics classroom.”
“Well, maybe you’re right, Colonel.” I asked him, “Did you happen to see the duty sergeant—Sergeant St. John—when you got to work that morning?”
“No. In fact, I heard later that a corporal of the guard was actually holding down the fort, so to speak, when the first officer arrived, and that caused a big stink. The corporal said that the duty sergeant left hours before and never returned, and he had no idea where the sergeant was or where the duty officer was. But I didn’t know that because no one brought it to my attention. Major Sanders, a staff officer, made the decision to call the MPs, and they informed him that the duty sergeant, St. John, was in their custody, though they wouldn’t say why. I learned of all this at about 0900 hours and I reported it to General Campbell, who told me to follow up on it.”
“And no one thought to ask where Captain Campbell had disappeared to?”
“No… In retrospect, it all ties together. But that morning it just seemed to me that Captain Campbell had left early, put the duty sergeant in charge, and he put a corporal of the guard in charge and took the opportunity to go somewhere—perhaps home to spy on his wife. That’s all too common—a man on duty gets it in his head that his wife is being unfaithful, then sneaks off duty and checks out his house. It’s a problem of military life.”
“Yes, I’ve had two homicides and one maiming that began that way.”
“So you understand. Well, that’s one of the things that occurred to me. But what I knew is that St. John ran afoul of the MPs and never made it back to headquarters. I didn’t push the inquiry because it was obviously Captain Campbell’s early departure that led to St. John’s dereliction of duty, and I knew that it would sort itself out. The last thing anyone thought is that St. John’s apparent arrest had anything to do with what we discovered later was the actual sequence of events.”
Sounded solid to me. But of course if I squeezed it, it had some soft spots. I reminded him, “You said you worked late at headquarters the evening before.”
“Yes.”
“Did you see Captain Campbell when she reported in for duty that evening?”
“No. My office is on the first floor, next to the general’s. The duty officer and sergeant use the large clerk-typist area on the second floor. They just pi
ck up the logbook and any special orders from a designated officer, then choose any desk and make themselves comfortable for the night. I don’t normally see any duty officer reporting in.” He asked, “Is that satisfactory, Mr. Brenner?”
“It’s reasonable, sir. I don’t know if it’s satisfactory until I can cross-check it. This is my job, Colonel, and I can’t do it any other way.”
“I’m sure you have some latitude, Mr. Brenner.”
“Just a tiny bit. An inch to the left, an inch to the right. More than that and I’m free-falling into the jaws of my boss, Colonel Hellmann, who eats warrant officers who are afraid to ask questions of superior officers.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, I’ll tell him you did a splendid job and showed no fear whatsoever.”
“Thank you, Colonel.”
“Do you enjoy this?”
“I used to. I’m not enjoying it today. Or yesterday.”
“Then we have something in common.”
“I hope so.”
We all sat a minute. My coffee was cold, but I didn’t care. Finally, I asked him, “Colonel, could you arrange an appointment for us to speak with Mrs. Campbell today?”
“I’ll do my best.”
I said to him, “If she’s as good a military wife as you describe, she’ll understand the necessity.” I added, “And we would like to see General Campbell today as well.”
“I’ll arrange it. Where can I contact you?”
“I’m afraid we’ll be all over the post today. Just leave a message at the provost office. Where can I contact you?”
“At Post Headquarters.”
“Are the funeral arrangements complete?”
“Yes. The body will be in the post chapel after retreat tonight, and also tomorrow morning, for those who wish to pay their last respects. At 1100 hours tomorrow, there will be a service in the chapel, then the body will be taken in a procession to Jordan Field for the ceremony, then placed aboard an aircraft and transported to Michigan for interment in the Campbell family plot.”
“I see.” Career Army officers usually have a will on file with the Army, and often there will be burial instructions included, so I asked Colonel Fowler, “Is that the wish of the deceased?”