Free A Mortal Terror by James R. Benn Page A

the platoon now.”
    “Andy Evans,” the other fellow said. He had an eager smile, a fresh face, and shiny lieutenant’s bars on the collar of his wool shirt. We shook hands, and I introduced myself to both of them.
    “Gates,” was all the sergeant said. He was no more than a couple years older than Evans, but all the freshness was long gone from his face. He worked intently on reassembling his Thompson, the scent of gun oil rising from his labors.
    “Platoon Sergeant?” I asked, pointing at his stripes, three chevrons and a rocker.
    “Yeah,” Gates said. His eyes narrowed as he glanced at Evans, and back to me with the faintest glimmer of interest. “You assigned to us?”
    “No,” I said. “I’m here to investigate the murder of Lieutenant Landry.”
    “I hear he was a good man,” Evans said. He’d understood what Gates was getting at and was trying to assert his authority. Problem was, he wouldn’t have much pull with a veteran like Gates until he survived a few days in combat without getting anyone killed for no good reason.
    “Good or bad, he’s dead,” Gates said, wiping down the assembled Thompson. “Not much we can do about it.”
    “Let me guess,” I said, taking a seat on Evans’s cot, glancing at the red hair sticking out from under his wool cap. “They call you Rusty.”
    “Yeah. Since I was in short pants. What do you want, Lieutenant?”
    “To find out who murdered Landry. You want justice for him, don’t you?”
    “Andy,” Gates said, ignoring my question. “Be a good time to check on the men, see that they got a full load of ammo.”
    “Good idea,” Evans said, as if he’d been about to do just that. He put on his helmet and field jacket and left, looking happy to leave this talk of his predecessor behind.
    “Justice,” Gates said. “You look like you been around enough to know there’s no justice up front.”
    “The murders didn’t happen at the front.”
    “No, but sooner or later your number’s up. At least Landry went out clean and dry. Odds were he wouldn’t last much longer anyway. Good platoon leaders seldom do. Lucky guys and cowards have a better chance. Sorry, but I can’t get all worked up over it. I’ve seen too many come and go to care how they get it.”
    “That’s a helluva attitude,” I said.
    “It’s the way it is. If I can help you, I will. But I have my hands full right now with this platoon and a green second louie. They’re getting ready for something, and it’s going to happen soon. They pulled us off the line a few weeks ago, gave us clean uniforms, hot showers, good food, and plenty of passes. Not to mention replacements. There’s something brewing, and it ain’t good news, let me tell you.”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “You ever get good news in the army?”
    “You have a point. What do you think of Evans?”
    “Nervous. Eager to show he’s got what it takes. He got transferred in from a supply outfit in Acerra. At least he ain’t right off the boat. He’ll screw up, then either figure things out or get himself or us killed. The usual.”
    “Landry figured things out?”
    “Yeah. He came to us from battalion staff. He knew some of the guys, didn’t have to prove anything. Made sure we had hot chow when he could, never volunteered, kept his head in a fight. Can’t ask for much more.”
    “Except not to get killed in bivouac. Any idea who had it in for him?”
    “Not a clue. No one, really. He must have seen something, or ran into someone who had a secret. Someone who knew how to break a neck.”
    “Who found the body?”
    “Don’t know. Some private from the transportation company, I heard. It was stashed behind a supply tent.”
    “Stashed? Why do you say that?”
    “I went over there as soon as I heard. Landry was next to the tent, and a set of guy wires ran above his legs. He couldn’t have fallen there. So someone stashed his body, out of sight.”
    “Makes sense. Can you show me?” The photo I’d seen of