a moment, then pulled a library card from her wallet and held it up for Carmody to see. She didn’t hand him the card. Emma was screwing with Carmody and DeMarco waited for his reaction, but all Carmody did was smile, his lips twitching in amusement. Unlike most people, Carmody wasn’t intimidated by Emma; he seemed tickled by her attitude.
‘So what can I do for you?’ Carmody said.
Before DeMarco could say anything, Emma responded to Carmody’s question. Emma had a tendency to assume command whenever she and DeMarco worked together. ‘A congressman,’ Emma said, ‘received a complaint from one of his constituents regarding how much you’re charging the navy for the work you’re doing.’
‘You flew out here because of one complaint?’ Carmody said. He seemed to find that both astounding and amusing.
Emma ignored the question. ‘We’d like to understand what you’re doing, how much you’re billing, how long it will take, that sort of thing.’
‘That fuckin’ Whitfield,’ Mulherin muttered.
‘What did you say?’ Carmody said sharply to Mulherin.
‘Oh, there’s this guy I used to work with and he keeps bitching about how much I’m making. I’ll betcha he caused this. I mean, I explained to him—’
‘That’s enough,’ Carmody said. DeMarco knew that after they left Carmody was going to have a pointed discussion with Mr Mulherin. To DeMarco and Emma, Carmody said, ‘As you probably already know, we’re doing a review to streamline a shipyard training program. The current program is expensive and I have, we have, some ideas for how to improve it. Get the book, Norton.’
Norton dashed into Carmody’s office and returned with a three-ring binder. Carmody spent the next fifteen minutes going over the existing training program, what it cost, the curriculum, class sizes, class hours, that sort of thing. DeMarco didn’t understand everything Carmody said but based on the questions she asked, Emma seemed to. The one thing DeMarco did understand was that as opposed to what Dave Whitfield had led them to believe, Carmody seemed to have acquired exactly the sort of information you’d expect him to have to do his review, and he seemed to know what he was talking about.
‘We understand that your guys here,’ DeMarco said, gesturing toward Mulherin and Norton, ‘are making a lot more money than they made when they worked in the shipyard.’
Carmody shrugged. ‘So what?’ he said. Before DeMarco could respond, he said, ‘Look, I submitted a bid to get this job, the navy accepted my bid, and I’m paying these guys the going rate. It’s not my problem that some yardbird thinks they should be paid less.’
‘Who awarded you the contract?’ Emma asked.
Carmody hesitated, but just for a second. ‘NAVSEA,’ he said.
‘Who?’ DeMarco said.
‘It’s not a person,’ Emma said. ‘NAVSEA is the Naval Sea Systems Command. A navy headquarters outfit back in D.C.’
‘Right,’ Carmody said. ‘You people could have saved yourself the trip out here. Somebody at NAVSEA could have given you the same information I just did.’
DeMarco wished he had known that before he flew out to Bremerton.
‘But who specifically at NAVSEA?’ Emma said. ‘Who’s the individual that awarded you the contract?’
‘I don’t know,’ Carmody said. ‘Whoever handles this sort of thing back in Washington, I guess.’
Carmody’s response had been casual but DeMarco had been looking at his arms when he spoke. Carmody was holding a coffee cup in both hands and when he answered the last question, he squeezed the cup hard enough that the muscles in his forearms jumped. DeMarco would hate to have to arm wrestle this guy.
Emma stared at Carmody for a moment but before she could say anything else, Carmody stood up. ‘Hey, it’s been great talking to you but I have a meeting I have to get to. All I can tell you is that the review we’re doing is needed, our billing rates are not out of line, and I was low bidder on the job. If you have any more questions you need to talk to the people back in D.C. who awarded me the contract.’
As they walked back toward Emma’s rental car, she said, ‘What do you think?’
DeMarco shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Norton and Mulherin didn’t exactly strike me as rocket scientists but the study sounds legit, and as for Carmody, he seems pretty sharp.’
‘Yes, he does,’ Emma said. She paused before she added, ‘He reminds me of mercenaries I’ve known.’
Carmody watched through the window as DeMarco and Emma walked away, then turned and stared at Mulherin. Mulherin looked like a dog waiting to be kicked, and Carmody definitely felt like kicking him. Goddamnit, what an idiot. But he’d deal with Mulherin later.
He went into his office and closed the door and took a seat at his desk. He put his right hand on the phone but he didn’t pick it up. He wasn’t worried about the questions they had asked. There was nothing wrong with his contract or what he was charging the government or anything else. No, it wasn’t the questions that worried him – it was the people asking the questions.
First, if somebody had really written their congressman to complain about his contract, the congressman would have handed off the complaint to the GAO or the Naval Inspector General. He wouldn’t have sent congressional staffers out here to deal with it.
And then there was DeMarco. There was something about him, a toughness to him, that didn’t match his mission. Carmody had been exposed to House staff people in the past and they were usually eager young kids, not some hard case like DeMarco. DeMarco’s ID had looked legit so he might be some kind of political operator – but he sure as hell wasn’t a guy you sent out to check on a nickel-and-dime navy contract.
But the woman was the real problem. Carmody had met her once before, ten or twelve years ago. She was someone you didn’t forget. He didn’t remember her name though – and that little game she’d played with the library card had kept him from finding it out – but he knew what she was even if he didn’t know who she was. Fortunately, she hadn’t recognized him, which wasn’t surprising considering the conditions under which they’d met. But whether she recognized him or not, the fact that she was here could mean real trouble.
His hand was still resting on the phone. He knew he should make the call. The problem was that he could never predict how she was going to react. Or overreact. He finally took his hand off the phone. He’d wait. If they came back again and if they asked different questions, then he’d call her.
Goddamnit. He felt like killing Mulherin.
DeMarco and Emma were having lunch, Emma picking at a tuna salad while DeMarco consumed a cheeseburger the size of a catcher’s mitt.
The navy dominated the city of Bremerton and the county in which it was located. In addition to the shipyard in Bremerton, which employed about ten thousand people, there was the Naval Submarine Base located in Bangor, Washington, and the Undersea Warfare Center in Keyport, Washington. The place where they were dining reflected the community’s support – and financial dependence – on the navy. The walls were covered with photographs of submarines bursting from the water and fighters taking off from the decks of aircraft carriers. Two tables away from Emma and DeMarco sat a gentleman who wore a dark blue baseball cap emblazoned with the words U.S. NAVY RETIRED – a totally redundant statement as the man looked old enough to have sailed with John Paul Jones.
‘Why would Carmody lie about not knowing the person