Silent Witness by Lindsay McKenna Page A

He wanted to ask what she meant, but that was too personal. And right now was not the time. “I’ll be out in a little bit,” he stated. “Go eat a few more crackers.”
    Nodding, Ellen quickly left.
    Cochrane shook his head and went about cataloging the scene by shooting photos of even smaller items. Ten minutes later he sauntered into the living room, where Ellen was studying a set of framed pictures.
    â€œDid you look at these photos?” she asked. Shewanted desperately to show him she could contribute to this investigation.
    He ambled over to the television set. “Yes. What about them?”
    â€œLook at them, Lieutenant Cochrane. This one shows Susan with two men about her own age. They’re all smiling and happy. Family?”
    â€œSignificant others?”
    Ellen gave him a dirty look. “Why is it a man’s mind always runs in that direction first?”
    â€œYou must be feeling better, Agent Tanner.” Cochrane grinned lopsidedly. “I’m not thinking in that particular direction. Doesn’t it strike you that Susan Kane doesn’t have a photo of her pa or ma here? Was she an orphan? Adopted? This other photo is of a woman, and they’re smiling and happy. And they have their arms around one another.”
    Ellen looked up at him. “Maybe her sister?”
    â€œMaybe she was a lesbian, and that’s her lover.”
    Ellen stared over at him. “You think?”
    â€œAnything is possible. There are gays and lesbians in the service no matter how much the military wants to deny it.” He bent over to look at the photos. “I’m going to ask the police to take these along as evidence. Maybe they’ll help us crack this case.”
    â€œDo you think it was murder?”
    â€œI reckon I don’t know,” Jim answered slowly. “That autopsy report will help supply the answer.”
    Ellen looked around the condo. “Susan did such abeautiful job of decorating. Everything is so clean, so neat.” She laughed shortly. “If you could see my old apartment back in Washington, D.C….! It looks like a hurricane zone in comparison to this one.”
    â€œMine’s worse. A hog looking for a new waller would probably take one look at my place and gleefully move in.” Jim made an expansive gesture. “What you fail to understand is that military people are taught to keep things neat, clean and organized. I’m sure four years at Annapolis instilled those values in her.” He gazed around the living room. “But this is too clean. It’s as if Kane were waiting to get an E rating.”
    â€œE rating?” Ellen questioned.
    â€œEvery operation in the U.S. Navy has a periodic Inspector General’s inspection. That’s when the boys from D.C. and the Pentagon descend like a flock of buzzards on a ship or station wearing white gloves, and examine every last thing there is to inspect. They look not only at appearances but at performance and record keeping. Station commanders quake in their boots over an I.G. They refer to it as an E rating. A bad rating and their career is torpedoed. And the unlucky officer that heads up the section with the poor results can kiss his career goodbye, too.” Cochrane snapped his fingers to emphasize the point. “Just like that.”
    â€œAnd Susan’s condo is ready for inspection?”
    â€œYep. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is out of place. It’s as if she planned the whole thing. Even the window-sills and other ledges you’d normally find some dust onare clean. An I.G. team would be hard-pressed to find anything out of order. She doesn’t even have an Irish pennant on her uniform.”
    â€œIrish pennant?”
    â€œA Navy word for a thread hanging off your uniform.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œDid you look closely at Kane’s uniform?”
    â€œUhh, no.”
    â€œWell, I did. No Irish pennants. Each brass buttons