The interpreter translated, and the shift lead carefully wrote the Cyrillic characters next to the time in the large green ledger they had started for cosmonaut Gromova’s flight to the Moon and back:
00:30 Moscow Standard Time Esdale sleeping alone in the lunar module. Miller awake in command module. No word from Gromova.
Not very interesting. But hopefully useful.
36
Timber Cove, Houston
The house was a truncated A-frame bungalow with an attached garage, set on the brackish shore of Taylor Lake, 10 minutes east of the Manned Spacecraft Center. When Kaz and Al Shepard arrived, there was already an ugly brown Dodge Polara in the driveway. The double whip antennas and driver’s side searchlight gave it away as an unmarked police car. The Harris County Sheriff’s car, in fact.
With everything that had happened in the 36 hours since launch, Kaz had pushed the findings of the crash investigator into the back of his mind. But now that Apollo 18 was safely on its way to the Moon, he’d faced the fact that out of everyone who might have sabotaged Tom’s helicopter, three of the suspects—only two of them still alive—were on board the spaceship. Al Shepard had alerted the sheriff and asked him for discretion, agreeing to help him look for evidence to quickly clear the three as potential suspects.
As Kaz pulled in and parked, two men got out of the Polara. The driver was in uniform, 30ish, with a crew cut. The passenger was a strongly built man in his 50s in a rumpled suit and tie, heavy-rimmed glasses below a combed-back wave of hair, graying at the temples.
Al walked up to him and they shook hands. “Hi, Jack, thanks for coming.”
Jack Heard had been the Houston police chief for 20 years, and had recently been elected sheriff of Harris County, which included Ellington Field airport, the rural scene of the helicopter crash and this house. Chad Miller’s house.
“I’m happy to serve NASA and a hero of the nation, Al,” Heard said, and turned to Kaz, his sharp cop’s eyes flicking across his face, missing nothing through the thick lenses. “You must be Lieutenant Commander Zemeckis. Sorry to hear about the death of your friend.”
Kaz was startled. Luke’s death in orbit hadn’t been made public. Then he realized the sheriff meant Tom Hoffman. He said, “Thanks,” and they shook hands.
Heard said, “That’s Deputy Buddy Beauchamp,” nodding at the uniform, who tipped his head.
Kaz led them all towards the front door, taking in the cedar shake siding and the multicolored entryway glass.
“Major Miller own this house?” Heard asked.
Al replied. “No, apparently it belongs to some dentist who rented it to Chad fully furnished.”
Kaz unlocked and opened the door, turned on the light, and they stepped into another world.
The living room floor was paved with ocher tile. The walls were covered to shoulder height in gold shag carpeting. The fluorescent light fixture Kaz turned on alternated between red, yellow and blue light. The far wall was all glass, facing onto a swimming pool with Taylor Lake beyond it. A basket chair hung on a long chain from the ceiling, and a bulbous, shellacked rock chimney rose from the gas fireplace. Gaudy masks hung on the walls above the shag carpet.
“Quite the place,” Sherriff Heard said. “A dentist, you say?”
Kaz had never been in Chad’s house and was trying to reconcile the hippie-Playboy décor with the abrupt, judgmental military man he knew. It was a rental, but still.
There was a pool table to their left, with a low, wood-framed couch. The sheriff said, “You two have a seat while Buddy and I have a quick look around. We shouldn’t be long.”
Al and Kaz sat.
“I’m glad the Astronaut Clinic has their own dentists,” Al said, making Kaz smile. After a moment, he asked, “You didn’t see Michael out at Ellington that day, right?”
Kaz shook his head. “No, just Luke, who was flying the LLTV, and Chad, who was leaving since he’d just flown it. Michael was scheduled for a medical check that morning, so I think that pretty much clears him.”
Al nodded, staring at the gargoyle masks on the wall. Both men were considering the unspoken. Motive.
Heard and his deputy came back through, heading for the open wooden staircase that led upstairs. Heard jerked his chin towards the back of the main floor, beyond the kitchen. He smiled slightly. “You might want to have a peek in the master bedroom.”
Al shrugged, and they peeled themselves up and out of the low sofa. They walked past the stone counters of the kitchen, down a short hallway and through the doorless bedroom entrance.