NORFOLK, VA JANUARY 2003
DISCHARGE: HONORABLE, JANUARY 2004
NCES / DOE EDUCATION BIO: ELWELL, TRUDY
DOB MARCH 17, 1974, SCARSDALE, NY
SCARSDALE ELEMENTARY, SCARSDALE, NY (NIA) 1980–1986
WESTCHESTER JR. HIGH, SCARSDALE, NY (NIA) 1986–1987
WHITE PLAINS HIGH, WHITE PLAINS, NY (GPA 3.5) 1987–1991
SAT: 650/710
PRINCETON UNIVERSITY, PRINCETON, NJ 1991–1995 BFA GPA 4.0
ARREST RECORD: JUVENILE (SEALED); DRUNK AND DISORDERLY, HONOLULU, HI AUGUST 1997; TRESPASSING, DRUNK AND DISORDERLY, RESISTING ARREST, PANAMA CITY, FL, APRIL 2000.
SIRPNet BIO: ELWELL, TRUDY
US NAVY: ENLIST, WHITE PLAINS, NY JUNE 1995
ASVAB SCORE: AFQT 97%
PHYSICAL: PASS
CAREER CLASSIFICATION: ANALYST
PRE-ENLIST INTERVIEW: ADDT’L TESTING—IQ 110
GREAT LAKES NAVAL TRAINING CENTER: REPORT SEPTEMBER 1995
A-SCHOOL: OFFICER’S CANDIDATE SCHOOL (OSC) NEWPORT, RI JANUARY 1996
COMMISSION: ENSIGN, JUNE 1996
ASSIGNED: NAVAL DIVING AND SALVAGE TRAINING CENTER (NDSTC) PANAMA CITY, FL JULY 1996
FLEET TRAINING: PEARL HARBOR, HI, OFFICE OF NAVAL INTELLIGENCE, CONTINGENCY OPERATIONS UNIT, APRIL 1997
PROMOTION: LIEUTENANT (GRADE) AUGUST 1999
ADVANCED TRAINING: NAVAL DIVING AND SALVAGE TRAINING CENTER (NDSTC) PANAMA CITY, FL APRIL 2000
SPECIALIZED TRAINING: JOINT INTELLIGENCE CENTER, BAHRAIN DECEMBER 2001
WOUNDED: IN ACTION, CITATION, MAY 2002
HOSPITALIZED: Portsmouth Naval Medical Center ,
PSYCHIATRIC CENTER, AUGUST 2002
DISCHARGE: HONORABLE, OCTOBER 2002
Sixteen
I went to the Grand Excelsior and asked the desk to ring Tito’s apartment.
There was no answer.
“Any idea where I might find him?”
The droopy clerk knit his brow. “Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Most nights you can find him at Benito’s.”
“Have you seen his wife today?”
“Who are you?”
“A friend.” I turned toward the doors. “Thanks.”
Benito’s was one of the few decent Italian restaurants on the Gold Coast. It was on the first floor of a high-rise called the Galaxy, which was an early real estate anchor atop the Palisades that came complete with its own retail plaza, pharmacy, liquor store, restaurants, and movie theater. It was built when there was nowhere else to shop or eat close by. While it once had pretensions of glitz, the Galaxy—having been there since the beginning of time—had a mostly elderly population. An assisted-living facility had moved in across the street for easy transition. Almost everybody there seemed to own a dog, and while there were scooper laws in effect, the sidewalks and parapet around there stank of animal piss.
I’d never lifted any sparks at the Galaxy. Twenty years ago, had I been in the business, I might have. Stealing from old ladies and frail men was something I didn’t do. There were plenty of younger morons with piles of sparks splayed on the dresser.
Benito’s was tucked into the lower-right façade, paneled in wood and comfy with squeaky, red-vinyl banquets. A dark wooden bar was in back, where Tito—in a rumpled suit—sat on a stool. In front of him was a scotch and his cell phone. Around him the restaurant was busy enough for a Sunday evening, but most of the elderly crowd had eaten at five and were already upstairs soaking their dentures.
Tito’s face was flush from the bender he was on. The Hispanic bartender with the giant mustache seemed a little on edge, probably about whether his customer should continue to be served, and he eyed me nervously as I sat next to Tito.
A napkin was placed on the bar in front of me. I could have used a bourbon. A big one. That couldn’t happen until I was on my way to the edge of the earth.
“I’m on the wagon tonight—seltzer and lime, please.” The bartender’s mustache twitched, and he looked briefly relieved.
I held my wrist in front of Tito. “This your watch?”
Tito blinked hard. “No, I don’t know what time it is.”
“No, what I meant was, is this your watch, the one on my wrist?”
Tito focused on my wrist and then almost tipped backward off