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“I just had a talk with Dr. Keyes Michaels, the department psychiatrist, Brewster,” Coughlin said. “Good man. Comes from a family of cops. Knows cops. Says the only thing wrong with Matty is exhaustion, and all he needs is some rest.”
He turned to Matt.
“By order of the commissioner, you are now on vacation. Thirty days.”
“Great,” Matt said.
Coughlin handed him the purse-size leather briefcase. “This is yours,” he said.
“What is it?”
“Your pistol. You forgot it at IAD.”
“Oh, yeah,” Matt said. “Thank you.”
He laid the purselike thing on the fieldstone wall of the patio.
“Matt,” Brewster Payne said, “why don’t you go inside and get us something to drink?”
As soon as Matt was out of earshot, Brewster C. Payne sought-and got-confirmation from Dennis V. Coughlin that all that was wrong was that Matt was emotionally and physically exhausted, and all that he needed was rest.
As Matt rolled the bar cart across the fieldstones of the patio, Armando C. Giacomo, Esq., arrived.
He was now his normal, sartorially elegant self.
“Brewster, I realize I’m barging in-”
“Nonsense, Manny, you don’t need an invitation here.”
“Actually, I came to see my client,” Giacomo said. “How are you doing, Matt?”
“I’m fine.”
“I have been informed, unofficially, of course, but reliably, by both the cops and the D.A.’s office that nothing you did in the La Famiglia parking lot in any way violated any law of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. In legal terminology, it was a righteous shooting, Matt, and you’re off the hook.”
“Manny, we appreciate how quickly-” Brewster C. Payne began.
Giacomo waved his hand to signal thanks were unnecessary.
“But you will have a taste, Manny, right?”
“I thought you would never ask.”
Next to arrive were Lieutenant Jason Washington and Detective Joe D’Amata. As Matt was pouring their drinks, the telephone in the niche in the fieldstone wall rang and Brewster C. Payne answered it.
It was Mr. Stan Colt, calling from the Coast. The monsignor had called him, Mr. Colt said, and said he’d heard that Matt was a little under the weather, and “could I talk to him, if he’s up to it?”
Sergeant Payne assured Mr. Colt that he was fine, that he had just been a little exhausted, and that he would make a real effort to go out to the Coast, and soon.
Inspector Peter Wohl appeared next. He was intercepted by Mrs. Patricia Payne and Dr. Amelia Payne as he walked up the now car-clogged drive toward the house.
“Amy told me what you did for Matt the night… it happened, ” Patricia Payne said, “and I just wanted to say, ‘Thank you.’ ”
“Absolutely unnecessary,” Wohl replied. “I was just glad I was there. I think of Matt-I think of all of you-as family.”
“And we do, too, Peter,” Patricia Payne said, emotionally. “Don’t we, Amy?”
“Yeah,” Amy said, looking intently at him. “I guess we all really do.”
