My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

21

We’d had no comments for the press that had been gathered at both the front and back gates as Ron drove Emily (who'd used a taxi to get her to the police station) and me to the institute bungalow.

Jiggs was waiting for us there.

“Where the hell were you?” I sighed. “And where was Lee? I know I may be as guilty as hell, even if I don’t remember anything about what I was accused of, but I could have used your support in this mess. Or maybe…you don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. I doubt if Lee does,” I added sorrowfully, rubbing a hand through my hair.

“Easy, Harry,” Emily said, as she sat me down in the living room.

“Then, you don’t know?” Jiggs asked.

“Damn it man, I don’t remember anything, except I awoke to a very nasty bump on the noggin, was arrested for attempted rape, and put into jail! Ron got me a lawyer who scheduled a hearing for tomorrow, or today, rather, this afternoon, and Ron bailed me out. Oh gawd, what if I…if I….”

“Whatever you did, or didn’t do, Harry,” she said, “remember I will always love you.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“So, Admiral Starke," Emily asked, "what did happen to Lee?”

“The party was in full swing,” Jiggs said, “Lee started to vomit.”

“I’m surprised he couldn’t hold his liquor,” Ron said, speaking over a glass of water in the kitchenette.

“He was vomiting blood, smart ass.”

“Blood?” I asked, aghast.

“Go on, Admiral,” Emily said.

“Everyone was so soused and there was so much noise, I only noticed because I almost tripped over him on the way to the head. He'd almost made it, but doubled over and  heaved and it wasn't from anything he'd eaten. I could see he was in serious trouble. I don’t know how I managed to find Doctor Jamison in the crowd. Nobody could hear me yelling. But I guess some of the crowd around somebody on the deck, came over, saw who it was and the blood,  and recommended we get the captain to the Med Bay straight away as it would be faster than calling an ambulance to take him to the hospital. Kowlowski….”

“Kowalski,” I corrected.

“Well, drunk as he was he called the Motor Pool to send a car as he didn’t want to risk us driving under the influence. Meanwhile, Morton had me check to see if anyone else was vomiting. He and a few not quite so inebriated volunteers looked for you, but you weren’t anywhere to be found. A bartender told him that the last he’d seen you, you were sharing a drink with one of the dancers. But frankly we didn’t really have time to hunt you down as our concern right then was for Lee.”

“I see. I’m sorry, Jiggs,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “It’s just…this has all been so overwhelming…no excuse for biting into you. How is Lee?”

“Not sure. But once the worst of the vomiting stopped in the exam room,  and we heard about the breaking news on the room's TV, he refused to hang around for the test results. He called the SBPD and demanded they rush over what was left from your blood and urine samples. Seems your boy thinks you were set up. The Chief of Police just thought he wasn’t thinking clearly, but in the end allowed the samples to be driven over by armed guards. They’re observing the testing in the Med Bay right now.”

“Where is Lee now?” I asked.

“His office. He suggested, or rather, ordered me to wait for your return. The gate informed me you were coming here.”

“Get some rest, Emmie," I said, "Ron…see you in the office about 1100 hours. That is…if…well…Emmie, are you sure you want to go through with it? We probably won’t have any guests attending now, and maybe even your bridesmaids won’t come….”

“I told you, Harry,” Emily said. “The wedding’s on. No matter what.”

I gave her a kiss, and headed to admin with Jiggs as Ron drove back to the hotel.

In Lee’s office suite, Ames was concentrating on security images from the hotel, with permission, or hacking in, I didn’t know, and didn’t ask. Chip and O'Brien, clearly still drunk, were fielding phone calls. In fact, O'Brien was holding his hand over the receiver and yelling to Lee in his private office.

"The Times wants to know what you feel about having a rapist for a father. What do I tell them?"

"Tell them he's not, and to go to hell!" Lee's irritated voice shouted back,"cheech, Franklin."

"Sorry, sir. I guess I'm not thinking too clearly..."

Chief Sharkey, Kowalski, Riley, and Patterson bore the tell-tale signs of drunkenness as well but were checking the party pictures they’d taken with their cell phones, in the hopes of what, I wasn’t sure.

I was relieved that none of the men cast me any disgusted looks.

I heard muttering from Lee’s private office, but forced myself to await a nod of approval from Ames before I headed in, Jiggs staying behind and asking him what he could do to help.

Lee was on the phone, the cord tangled behind him, as he faced the large picture window, the morning sunrise illuminating the still near empty parking lot. (After all, today was an institute holiday).

“No! The ‘evidence’ does not speak for itself!” he yelled, turned and slammed the phone down into its receiver, then doubled over with dry heaves, his waste basket fortunately nearby.

“Lee,” I said gently and I quickly approached, and knelt down beside him.

“Harry!” he croaked, “are you okay?”

“The question is, son, are ‘you’ okay?”

“I’ll live.”

“He will, actually,” Will, blurry eyed, said as he entered, two printouts in hand. “You, Skipper, have been suffering from the effects of Ipecac. Possibly a practical joke….”

“By one of my own crew?” Lee exploded and let me help him up. “No way…damned convenient way to get me out of the way for the femme fatale to lure him away, don’t you think? And what does the Admiral’s blood and urine samples show?”

“Pretty much the same as the SBPD’s report. But I found a trace of something riding on the Marijuana piggyback, chemically similar to gamma hydrox butyric acid. ”

“English, Doc,” Lee ordered.

“Commonly known as GHB, or something akin to Ecstasy…a date rape drug. Somehow the admiral ingested it, and it incapacitated him to the point of being in effect, disassociated from anything going on. A kind of sombolistic  state. You might have been on your feet but you weren’t aware at all about anything. I think the skipper is right about you being set up. Do you remember anything about your time with the girl?

“Nothing.”

“Right,” Lee said. “She made sure you couldn’t remember. Led you like a lamb to the slaughter. Knocked you out, and cried rape. Or at least attempted rape.”

“Lee, I don’t know…I was drunk…”

“Will,” Lee said. “Is there any way to bring his memory back?”

“No. His cognitive abilities were completely erased under the drug. Not even truth serum or hypnosis could help.”

“What’s more important to me right now, Will, is why Lee vomited blood?”

“It can happen with a violent stomach reaction,” Will said.

“All right,” Jiggs said, “they got Lee out of the way, but why go the trouble to so dishonor Harriman?” Jiggs asked.

“He has enemies,” Lee said, “we both do. We've been shot at, run over, brainwashed, but this charge doesn't make sense... Wait. Harry, do you know of anyone who might not want you and Emily to marry? Attempted rape is a damned good way to stop the thing.”

“None that I’m aware of.”

“Excuse me,” a security guard knocked on the door’s frame. “Someone from the car dealership is here. Has a cop with him. Says it’s important.”

“Now what,” Jiggs said in disgust. “We don’t need this right now.”

“Send them in,” Lee countermanded.

“Captain,” the same rep we'd seen before said. “We found a control chip in the artificial intelligence that’s not ours.”

“A remote controlled chip,” the officer said. “We’re still checking on it, but we have reason to believe that your car was in effect hijacked, and directed to accelerate and lose its brakes at the same point in time when you had no choice but to head the car into the guard rail and bail out. We also found part of the guard rail that tore apart. It had a fuse that was triggered to break at the same time it was hit. Captain, somebody wanted you dead.”

“Lee?” Ames called out from the computer. “I think I have something. ”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Floor thirteen of the Hilton. Some woman giving your temptress a wad of cash,” Lee said. “But the image is too grainy to ID her. Drew, contact NCIS and see if McGee and Abbie can do anything with it. Chip, call Joe, send what you have,  and see if he can help. He's got  ready access to some of ONI's gadgets."

“You’ll need more than an ID to  make an accusation," the officer told Lee. "The money might be for something completely innocent”

“Perhaps…but I'm thinking it could be just the clue we need."

“I think it’s a long shot, Captain,” the officer said, “but I'll request the Chief of Police to cooperate fully. I hardly think he'd refuse you."

And so, now, back aboard Lee’s sailboat, showered, shaved, and changed, teeth and tongue brushed, with several Listerine breath strips later, I’m ready for the rest of the day. Sort of. Maybe. Hell, I don’t know.

Somebody tried to kill Lee, somebody tried to discredit me and prevent the wedding. But why, and who? I have enemies, as Lee said. But the accusation of attemped rape? Surely Emily doesn’t have an old suitor who would resort to killing the competition? We'd spoken about our pasts. Oh, she’d had a few boyfriends in high school and college and a few serious relationships that were broken off amicably, but then, God only knows.

So, should Lee’s mission to discover if my accuser was paid off to frame me fails, what then? I plead not guilty. But the thing is, I don’t really know for sure which I am.