notification, Captain,” Colonel Bartlett said, “Baker Company, 55th Marines, USMC Reserve, is called to active duty, for an indefinite period of service, as of 0001 hours today. You and your men are ordered to report to your reserve training station within twenty-four hours prepared for active service. Any questions? ”
“No, sir.”
“I have a few for you. Unofficially. What would be your estimate of the percentage of your officers and men who will actually report within twenty-four hours?”
“All my officers, sir, and probably ninety-five percent or better of the men.”
“And the percentage, officers first, prepared to perform in the jobs?”
“All of them, sir.”
“And the men?”
“I have fourteen kids who have yet to go through boot camp, sir. With that exception . . .”
“And your equipment?”
“Well, sir, we have some things that need replacement, but generally, we’re in pretty good shape.”
“Including weapons?”
“Individual and crew-served weapons are up to snuff, sir. We ran everybody—including the kids who haven’t been to boot camp—through the annual qualifying course. Finished last week.”
“Really?” Colonel Bartlett asked, obviously surprised. “I didn’t know you had a range.”
“The police loaned us theirs, sir.”
“Then you’re really ready to go, aren’t you?” Colonel Bartlett asked, rhetorically, as if surprised, or pleased, or both.
“Yes, sir.”
“If it were necessary, how soon could you depart your reserve training station?”
“I’d like to have seventy-two hours, sir, but we could leave in forty-eight.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, sir. Sir, may I ask where we’re going?”
“That hasn’t been decided yet, Captain, but I feel sure you’ll be ordered to either Camp Lejeune or Camp Pendleton. There will be official confirmation of your mobilization, by Western Union. And as soon as it is decided where you will go, you will be notified by telephone, with Western Union confirmation to follow. Any other questions?”
“No, sir.”
“Good morning, Captain Hart.”
“Good morning, sir.”
Hart put the telephone down and looked at the second deputy commissioner.
“You’ve been mobilized?” the commissioner asked.
“As of midnight last night,” Hart replied. “It looks as if I’m back in the Marine Corps.”
“You have to leave right away? What do you suggest we do about this?” He pointed at the case file.
Hart shrugged.
“I’m in the Marine Corps now, Commissioner,” he said. “Right away means I go from here to the Reserve Center.”
“I thought they’d give you a couple of weeks to settle your affairs,” the commissioner said.
“I didn’t,” Hart said. “I thought if they called us at all, they would want us as of the day before.”
He looked down at the case file, at the gruesome photograph of the victim’s body. He tapped the photo.
“Gut feeling: A sicko did this, not a pimp. If he’s getting his rocks off this way, he’s going to do it again. I was going to suggest setting up a team, under me, of vice guys. Look for the sicko. If I’m not here, that means setting it up under Fred Mayer, because he’s a captain, and Teddy, who I presume will take my job, is only a lieutenant. But Fred’s a vice cop. . . .”
“I’ll set it up under Teddy,” the commissioner said. “Mayer will understand.”
The hell he will. He’ll be pissed and fight Teddy every step of the way, and then when Teddy bags this scumbag, he’ll try to take the credit.
But it’s really none of my business anymore, not “for an indefinite period.”
“That’s what I would recommend, Commissioner,” Hart said.
The commissioner stood up, holding out his hand.
“Jesus, we can’t even throw you a ‘goodbye and good luck’ party, can we, George?”
“It doesn’t look that way, Commissioner.”
“Well, Jesus, George! Take care of yourself. Don’t do anything heroic!”
“I won’t,” Hart said.
Company B had a telephone tree call system. When a message had to be delivered as quickly as possible, it began at the top. Hart would call three of his officers. They in turn would call three other people, who would call three other people, until the system had worked its way down through the ranks to the privates.
The system was copied from that used by the St. Louis Police Department, to notify off-duty officers in case of emergency.
When Hart parked his unmarked car behind the Reserve Training Center and went inside wondering when he would return the car to the police garage, Lieutenant Peterson had already “lit the tree” and was making a list of those who hadn’t answered their telephone.
Hart changed into utilities, then called Mrs. Louise Schwartz Hart and told her the company had been mobilized, and he didn’t know when he could get home, certainly not in the next couple of hours.