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“Jesus, are they serious?” he asked.
Lowenstein shrugged.
“I think we should err on the side of caution,” Wohl said. “In this case meaning having a pistol in your bedside table might be a good idea.”
Matt felt a cramp in his stomach.
Jesus, is that fear?
“The sergeant from the Mobile Crime Lab took my pistol,” Matt said, desperately hoping his voice did not betray him, that he sounded like a matter-of-fact cop explaining something.
Simultaneously, Chief Inspector Lowenstein and Staff Inspector Wohl reached into the pockets of their topcoats and came out with identical Smith & Wesson Chief’s Special snub-nosed .38 Special caliber revolvers.
Matt took the one Wohl had extended to him, butt first. He laid it on the sheet and covered it with his hand.
“One should be enough, don’t you think?” he said. “You just happened to have spares with you, right?”
He’s frightened, Wohl thought. He’s cracking wise, but he’s frightened. Then he grew angry. Those dirty sonsofbitches!
“Harry McElroy is arranging with hospital security to make sure nobody even knows where you are in here, much less gets close to you,” Lowenstein said. “I think that threat is pure bullshit. But better safe than sorry.”
“Yes, of course,” Matt said.
“Just make sure no one knows you have a weapon,” Wohl said. “The hospital would throw a fit.”
“You’ll be out of here tomorrow, or the day after,” Washington said. “Even if this is not fantasy on the part of these people, they won’t look for you in Wallingford. You are going to Wallingford, right?”
“I was, but not now,” Matt said. “Christ, I don’t want my family to hear about this!”
“It’ll be in the papers,” Wohl said. “They’ll hear about it.”
“I’ll go to my apartment,” Matt said, “not Wallingford.”
“You in the phone book?” Lowenstein asked.
“No, sir.”
“What I think this is intended to do, Payne,” Lowenstein went on, “is frighten Mr. Monahan. I think they’re trying to get him to think that if they can threaten a cop—You take my meaning?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I can’t believe they’d come after you. If they were serious about revenge, they wouldn’t have given a warning.”
“Yes, sir.”
On the other hand, Matt thought, if they did kill me, that would really send Mr. Monahan a message.
The pain in his stomach had gone as quickly as it had come.
Jesus, that Demerol must be working. I’m not even afraid anymore. This is more like watching a cops-and-robbers show on TV. You know it’s not real.
And then he had a sudden, very clear image of the orange muzzle blasts in the alley, and heard again the crack of Abu Ben Mohammed’s pistol, and felt again getting slammed in the calf and forehead, and the fear, and the cramp in his stomach, came back.
“I’ll have a talk with your father, Matt,” Wohl said. “And put this in perspective. If you’d like me to.”
“Please,” Matt said.
“I’m sure McElroy has arranged with the switchboard to put through only calls from your family and friends,” Lowenstein said. “But some calls may get through—”
