A Slow Walk to Hell by Patrick A. Davis

Sorry for the short notice. I’ve scheduled you to brief…”
    Terkiko looked up at me. “There are eleven messages. All similar. Everyone who called made a reference to military rank or—did I say something?”
    I didn’t reply. The message had just ended and I was staring at the machine.
    “My God,” I murmured.
     
    The words just came out. The instant I said them, I knew I’d made a mistake. Looking around the room, I saw everyone staring at me.
    “What is it, Martin?” Simon asked. “What did you hear?”
    My mind was spinning as I tried to figure out my next move. I asked Teriko to play the message again. After she did, I knew there’d been no mistake; I’d heard the name correctly.
    “All right,” Simon said, eyeing me. “What’s so significant about the message?”
    I shrugged. “Major Talbot was supposed to brief Major General Baldwin on Tuesday.”
    “No kidding,” Amanda said dryly.
    Simon said, “I assume you know this General Baldwin.”
    I hesitated. “I know him.”
    He waited for me to expand. I didn’t.
    He went on, “I recall a General Baldwin who ran the Air Force during the Gulf War?”
    “An older brother. The Baldwins are a prominent military family.”
    Amanda nodded. Everyone in the military was familiar with the Baldwins, whose service to the country dated back to the Civil War.
    Simon again contemplated me, expecting me to say more. He bluntly asked me how General Baldwin could be connected to the murder.
    “I don’t know that he is.”
    “I see.” He seemed increasingly puzzled by my reluctant manner. “Could he have made the call threatening Talbot?”
    “It wasn’t his voice.”
    “But you still think the general could somehow be involved?”
    “I have no reason to believe that.” It was more of a quibble than an outright lie.
    Simon’s jaw tightened in exasperation. “Martin, please. If you know something pertinent—”
    “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
    “Oh, stop it, Marty,” Amanda said. “You practically laid an egg on the floor. You think General Baldwin might be connected to the killing. Why?”
    I felt her eyes cut through me. “I’m not allowed to say.”
    She was incredulous. “Not allowed? This is a homicide investigation.”
    Simon’s face darkened. “Enough of this nonsense, Martin. I want you to tell us. What are you doing?”
    The only thing I could.
    I was walking out the door.

7
    “M arty!”
    As I hustled onto the balcony, I glanced behind and saw Amanda pop out from the office. “Dammit, Marty! Get back here.”
    I took the stairs two at a time, ignoring the curious stares from the fingerprint technicians.
    “Marty, I swear to God I’ll call General Hinkle. He’ll order you to tell us.”
    I reached the foyer and looked back. Amanda was standing at the top of the stairs, her face tight with anger. “I’ll do it. I’ll call him. Don’t think I won’t.”
    I shrugged. “So call him. It won’t change anything.”
    “Meaning you still won’t tell us?”
    “There’s nothing to tell.”
    “You’re such an ass.” She spun on her heel and stormed back to the office.
    By now the technicians were regarding me with crooked smiles. Berber hair grinned. “I’d say that’s one pissed-off lady.”
    “What was your first clue?” I said dryly.
    He laughed. “Kinda makes you feel sorry for the guy.”
    “Which guy?”
    “The one who gave her that rock she’s wearing. Poor bastard probably has no idea what’s coming.”
    I was curious how he knew this. As big as Amanda’s diamond was, he would still have to be damned observant to notice the protrusion through her gloved hand.
    “I noticed it a couple days ago,” he said, when I asked. “Musta been Wednesday. She dropped by the precinct to have lunch with Lieutenant Santos—say, you don’t look so good. You okay, buddy?”
    I wasn’t, but managed a smile anyway. “I’m fine. How do I get to the basement?”
    “Through the kitchen. Going to hide out there until she