"Of course, but he's been gone for years.
"My point exactly," I said. Gee, this was going better than I'd thought. "During his stint in Vietnam, Mark was at la Drang, right?"
"You'd have to verify that with him, but I believe so."
"Turns out Benny was there too.
Laddie blinked. "I'm not following. What does any of this have to do with me?"
"Let me back up a step. Didn't Duncan Oaks interview you for the Louisville Tribune?"
She said, "Kinsey, what is this? I don't mean to be rude, but you're skipping back and forth and I'm confused. I really don't see the relevance."
"Just hear me out," I said. "Duncan was doing a series for the local paper. He interviewed army wives, like you, who'd been left behind, you know, talking about the war from their perspective. His idea was to tell the same story through the eyes of the husbands off fighting in Vietnam."
Laddie shook her head, shrugging. "I guess I'll have to take your word for it."
"At any rate, he did talk to you."
She took a sip of wine. "It's possible. I don't remember."
"Don't worry about the date. I've asked his editor to send a copy of the article. We can pin it down from that. Anyway, Duncan's editor says he flew to Vietnam in September of '65. He ran into Mark and Benny at la Drang, which was where Duncan disappeared." I was doling out pure theory, but I noticed she'd stopped offering much in the way of objections. "Seven years later Benny shows up in Santa Teresa with Duncan Oaks's ID. The next thing you know, Benny's been murdered. You see the link?"
"Benny wasn't murdered. You're overstating the situation. As I remember, Benny had a subdural hematoma, and his death was the result of an arterial bleed. Given the nature of his injury, it could have happened any time. Even the coroner's report said that."
"Really? You're probably right. You have quite a memory for the details," I said.
"Mark and I discussed it at the time. I suppose it stuck in my mind."
"Mickey's another link. He went off to Louisville on Thursday, May eighth. He came back on Monday, and in the wee hours of Wednesday morning he was shot, as you know."
Laddie's smile was thin. "Not to sound superior, but you're committing what's called a post hoc fallacy. Just because one event follows another doesn't mean there's a cause-and-effect relationship."
"I see. In other words, just because Benny knew something doesn't mean he died for it."
"Is this what you wanted to discuss with Mark?"
"In part."
"Then let's leave that. I'm sure it's more appropriate to wait till he comes in."
I said, "Fine. Could we talk about your relationship with Duncan?"
"I'd hardly call it a relationship. I knew him, of course. We went all through school together."
"Were you pals, confidants, boyfriend/girlfriend?"
"We were friends, that's all. There was never anything between us, if that's what you're getting at."
"Actually, it is," I said. "I thought since you were the king and queen of the senior prom, you might have been sweet on each other."
Laddie smiled, her composure restored. This was something she'd thought about; her version of the story was preassembled and prepackaged. "Duncan wasn't interested in me romantically, nor I in him."
"Too bad. He looked cute."
"He was cute. He was also extremely narcissistic, which I found obnoxious. There's nothing worse than a seventeen-year-old kid who thinks he's hot stuff."
"You don't think he was charismatic?"
"He thought he was," she said. "I thought he was conceited, nice, funny, but such a snob."
"What about your father?"
She looked at me askance. "My father? What's he have to do with this?"
"This is peripheral and probably none of my business, "
"None of this is your business," she said, bridling.
I smiled to show I hadn't taken offense. "I was told he was awarded a patent that earned him a lot of money. I gather, before that, he was considered a bit eccentric."
"If he was, so what? Make your point."
"I'm just thinking his fortune must have changed people's perception of you. Duncan's, in particular."
She was silent.
"Yes? No?"
"I suppose," she said.
"You went from being one down to one up where he was concerned. He sounds like the type who enjoyed a conquest, to prove he could do it, if nothing else."
"Are you trying to build a case for something?"
"I'm just trying to get a feel for what kind of guy he was."
"A dead one."
"Before that. You never had a fling with him?"
"Oh, please. Don't be silly. We never had an affair."
"Hey, an affair is six weeks or more. A fling can be anything from one night to half a dozen."
"I never had a fling with him, either."
"When did Mark leave for Vietnam? I know you married him in June. His orders came through......
"July twenty-sixth," she said, biting off the words.
"The way I read the situation, Duncan was in Louisville after Mark shipped out. There you were, a young newlywed with a husband off at war. I'm sure you were lonely, needy..."
"This is offensive. You're being extremely insulting, not only to me but to Mark."
"Insulting about what?" Mark said from the corridor. He shrugged out of his overcoat and tossed it over the back of a chair. He must have come in through the kitchen. His high forehead and receding hairline gave him an air of innocence, the same look babies have before they learn to bite and talk back. Laddie got up to greet him. I watched the two of them as he bussed her cheek.
He said, "Hang on a minute while I make a quick call." He crossed to the phone and dialed 9-1-1.
Laddie said, "What's going on?"
Mark raised a finger to indicate the dispatcher had picked up. "Hi, this is Mark Bethel. I'm at Four-forty-eight Savanna Lane. I've got a couple of guys parked in a car near the entrance to my gate. Could you have A patrol car cruise by? I really don't like the looks of them.... Thanks. I'd appreciate that." He replaced the handset and turned to Laddie and me with a shake of his head. "Probably harmless, a lovers' tryst, but just on the off chance they're casing the place." He rubbed his palms together. "I could use a glass of wine. "
I tried to picture Detectives Claas and Aldo busted by the local cops on a morals charge.
Laddie poured Chardonnay in a glass, holding it by the stem so as not to smudge the bowl. The trembling of her hand caused the wine to wobble in the glass.
Mark didn't seem to notice. He took the glass and sat down, giving me his full attention. "I hope I didn't interrupt. "
"We were talking about Benny Quintero," Laddie said. "She's just back from Louisville, where she did some research."
"Benny. Poor guy."
I said, "I didn't realize you were all from the same town."
"Well, that's not strictly true. I was born in Dayton. My family moved to Louisville when I was six. I lived there till I went off to U of K."
"And you knew Benny then?"
"I knew of him, just as he must have known about me from football games."
"I didn't realize you played football."
"More or less," he said ruefully. "I went to Atherton, which was all girls for years. School didn't go coed until 1954. Even then, we seldom won a game against Manual or Male. Mostly, the players knew each other by reputation. I remember there was a guy named Byck Snell at Eastern."
"So Benny came to California and looked you up," I said.
"Right. He must have heard I was a lawyer and somehow got it in his head I could help him with his VA benefits. I mean, it's like I told him: just because I'm an attorney doesn't make me an expert. In those days, I knew next to nothing about the Veterans Administration. Now, of course, I'm educating myself on the issues because I can see what a difference I can make, "
I said, "Sounds like a campaign speech."
Mark smiled. "Sorry. At any rate, I couldn't seem to convince Benny of my ignorance. The whole thing was ludicrous, but I couldn't get him off it. The guy started stalking me, appeared at the office, appeared at the house. The phone started ringing at all hours of the night. Laddie was getting nervous, and I couldn't blame her. That's when I asked Mickey to step in and see what he could do."
"Meaning what?"
I could see him hesitate. "Well, you know, Mickey was a tough guy. I thought he could put the fear of God in him. I'm not saying Mickey meant to hurt him, but he did make threats."
"When?"
"During the incident in the Honky-Tonk parking lot."
"You talked to Benny after that?"
"Sure. He called me and he was furious. I said I'd talk to Mickey. I made a few calls but never managed to track him down, as you well know."
"Because he and Dixie were together," I said, helping him along.
"So they claimed. Frankly, I've always wondered. It seemed pretty damn convenient under the circumstances. "
"So you're saying Mickey went back to Benny and beat the shit out of him."
"I'm saying it's possible. Mickey always had a temper. He hated it when some punk got the best of him."
"I hardly think Benny got the best of him. Shack says it was a shoving match with no blows exchanged."
"Well, that's true. Actually, I heard the same report from the other witnesses. The point is, Mickey came off looking bad, and for a guy like him that's worse."
"You know, this is the second time you've implicated Mickey."
"Hey, I'm sorry, but you asked."
"Why didn't you ever mention you knew Benny back in high school?"
"When did I have the chance? In those days, you barely spoke to me. And since then, believe me, I've been acutely aware you're not a fan of mine. We run into each other in public, you practically duck and hide, you're so anxious to avoid contact. Anyway, that aside, you weren't speaking to Mickey either, or he'd have told you the same thing."
I felt myself color at his accuracy. And here I thought I was so subtle. "Can I ask one more thing?"
"What's that?" Mark took a sip of his drink.
"After you Joined the army, you were sent to Vietnam. Is that correct?"
"Absolutely. I'm proud of my service record."
"I'm sure you are," I said. "Benny Quintero was there and so was Duncan Oaks." I went on, giving him a hasty summation of what I'd learned from Porter Yount.
Mark's face took on the look of a man who's trying to pay attention while his mind is somewhere else. I could tell he was thinking hard, composing his response before I'd finished what I was saying. His resulting smile held an element of puzzlement. "You have to understand there were hundreds of guys who fought at la Drang. The one/five, the one/seven, the two/seven, the Second Battalion Nineteenth Artillery, the Two-twenty-seventh Assault Helicopter Battalion, the Eighth Engineer Battalion, "
"Got it," I said. "There were lots of guys. I got that, but Duncan was a journalist and he went out there specifically to talk to you because of the series he was writing. He must have told you he talked to Laddie. My guess is you'd felt threatened by him for years. He and Laddie were tight. She was poor in those days and never good enough for him, but I'll bet her classmates would tell me she'd had a crush on him, that she'd have given her eyeteeth for his attention, "
"That's absurd. That's ridiculous," Laddie interjected.
Mark made a motion with his hand that told her to hush, the sort of command you teach a dog in obedience training. She closed her mouth, but the significance of the gesture wasn't lost on her. Mark was clearly annoyed. "Let's get to the bottom line. What are you suggesting?"
"I'm suggesting the three of you connected up. You and Benny and Duncan Oaks."
Mark was shaking his head. "No. Wrong."
I said, "Yes. Right. I have a snapshot of the two of them, and you're visible in the background."