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“Well, it was a good shooting,” Mariani asked. He laid a folder on Coughlin’s desk. “That’s Mike Weisbach’s initial report. Payne did everything by the book. One of the victims-the wife of the guy that got pistol-whipped- even wants to apologize for what she said to him-‘Where the hell were you when we needed you?’-when he walked up on it. She said she was upset, and wants to apologize. The only thing that wasn’t done by the book was when the Dignitary Protection Lieutenant… What’s his name?”
“McGuire.”
“… took Payne’s weapon as evidence.”
“Oh, Jesus.”
“Payne’s got a legitimate beef about that.”
“He won’t say anything,” Coughlin said. “He’s a good cop.”
“But you’re worried about him, right?”
“I’m worried about him. He needs a rest. A long one.”
“That poses a problem. If Dr. Michaels has pronounced him fit for duty, that means…”
Coughlin nodded, and finished the sentence:
“… he’s supposed to come to work tomorrow.”
“You don’t know if he’s got any vacation coming?”
“Something over four hundred hours. I just checked his jacket.”
“See that he takes thirty days of that, Denny. Make it an order.”
Coughlin nodded.
Patricia Payne held both of her son’s arms and looked intently up at him.
“Are you all right, sweetheart?”
“Amy says I have to wear the straitjacket only when I leave the property,” Matt said. “She has it in her truck.”
“Don’t be such an ass, Matt,” Amy said. “You heard what Dr. Stein said.”
“Which was?” Patricia Payne asked.
“That what Matt and a jackass have in common is that they don’t know they have limits, and Matt reached his. All he needs is rest.”
“He said ‘thoroughbred racehorse,’ ” Matt said.
“And all he needs is rest?” Patricia Payne asked.
“That’s it, Mom,” Amy said. “Really.”
“Can you get some time off?” Patricia Payne asked.
“I’m sure I can,” Matt said.
“Well, go tell your father. He’s pacing back and forth on the patio, waiting to know what’s up.”
Matt walked toward the patio, and Patricia Payne led her daughter into the house, where she sought-and got- confirmation that all that was wrong with her son was that he had been pushed, or had pushed himself, beyond his limits, and that all he needed was rest.
Matt had just finished telling his father this, and was about to tell him that Amy had another medical theory that he thought had a lot of merit, despite what Drs. Stein and Michaels said, when Deputy Commissioner Dennis V. Coughlin, trailed by Captain Frank Hollaran, came onto the patio.
Coughlin was carrying in his hand what looked like a briefcase but was the size of a woman’s purse. Matt wondered what it was.
