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“As long as Tony’s got it, I don’t care about the how or why. I want in on this, too, Jason. It’s important to me.”
Washington’s eyebrows went up.
“Matthew, it would never cross my mind that you had anything other than a strictly professional interest in this case.” He paused. “Would it?”
“My interest is to find out-professionally-what the hell happened out there. And why.”
Washington did not immediately reply. He looked at the notes on his desk. “Tony tells me you have a history with”-he glanced at the notes to refresh his memory-“with this Warren Olde and Rebecca Benjamin.”
“And with Chad Nesbitt,” Payne said, then went on and gave Washington all the background he’d given Tony Harris.
“Matthew, you didn’t hear this from me.”
“Yessir,” Payne said, but it was more of a question.
“Denny Coughlin is of course going to welcome you back with open arms-”
“Great! I didn’t want this to be difficult.”
Washington gave him a hard look. “Kindly allow me to complete my thoughts, Matthew.”
“Sorry.”
“Thank you. And what the commissioner has in mind-and, again, you did not hear it from me-is that you’re welcome back to your desk.” He nodded to the outer office of Homicide. “You’ll work out of here.”
“I’m tied to a desk? What is that about, Jason?”
“He’s concerned for you, Matthew. We all are. You went through a lot.”
“Which was why I took the thirty days. Now I’m back. I’m well. And I want to work.”
Both Lieutenant Jason Washington and Sergeant Matt Payne knew there never was any real chance that Payne would be denied his job if and when he said that he wanted it.
After all, it was a fact that the shooting had been declared a good one; thus, the department could not use that against him. And it was a fact that the psychiatrist, Dr. Aaron Stein, had said that Payne had suffered only from emotional exhaustion-“The treatment is rest,” Stein said, “and don’t push yourself so hard again”-which sure as hell was not cause for suspension or termination.
Finally, while it had been the Number Two man in the police department hierarchy, Denny Coughlin, who’d strongly suggested to Payne that he take off the deserved time, it also was a fact that it had been exactly that-a suggestion.
And now Uncle Denny is probably going to throw Dr. Stein’s “Don’t push yourself so hard again” line in my face.
Which translates to running in low gear while driving a goddamn desk.
Had anyone hinted at denying Sergeant Payne his job, Payne knew that technically he could have created one helluva stink. Starting with the Fraternal Order of Police getting its lawyers to file grievances against the department to reinstate Sergeant Payne, and on up to a team of big-gun litigators from the prestigious firm of Mawson, Payne, Stockton, McAdoo amp; Lester dragging the City of Philadelphia to the Supreme Court of the United States of America for whatever unlawful action they could muster.
But that was technically. Realistically, of course, no one wanted it to come to blows. And it wouldn’t, because that would not have served either side’s best interests.
“I don’t agree with the order, Matthew, but the commissioner has his reasons. And he’s the boss. I’ll make it as best I can for you. You know that.”
Payne nodded thoughtfully.
And Jason will.
But it’ll still be a personal purgatory.
Payne then said, “Thank you, Jason.”
“You should go upstairs and make your manners. The sooner you start to meet whatever threshold the commissioner has in mind, the sooner everything will be back the way you want it.”
