'Because I say so,' the rent-a-cop said.
'I'm a cop,' Matt said.
He felt a little uneasy making that announcement. The rent-a-cop was almost surely a retired policeman. He remembered hearing Washington say that one of the rent-a-cops the Detweilers had hired was a retired Northwest Detectives sergeant. He suspected he was talking to him.
'And I've been hired by the Detweiler family to keep people away from Miss Detweiler without Mr. or Mrs. Detweiler's say so.'
'You've got two options,' Matt said, hoping his voice sounded more confident than he felt. 'You either get out of the way, or I'll get on the phone and four guys from Highway will carry you out of the way.'
'There's a very sick girl in there,' the rent-a-cop said.
'I know that,' Matt said. 'What's it going to be?'
'I could lose my job letting you in.'
'You don't have any choice,' Matt said. 'If I have to call for help, I'll charge you with interfering with a police officer. Thatwill cost you your job.'
The rent-a-cop moved to the side and out of the way, watched Matt enter the room, and then walked quickly down the corridor to the nurses' station, where, without asking, he picked up a telephone and dialed a number.
'Ready for water polo?' Matt said to Penelope Detweiler.
Christ, she looks even worse than the last time I saw her.
'Hello, Matt,' Penelope said, managing a smile.
'You feel as awful as you look?' he asked. 'One might suppose that you have been out consuming intoxicants and cavorting with the natives in the Tenderloin.'
'I really feel shitty,' she said. 'Matt, if I asked you for areal favor, would you do it?'
'Probably not,' he said.
'That was pretty quick,' she said, hurt. 'I'm serious, Matt. I really need a favor.'
'I really wouldn't know where to get any, Penny. Your supplier's dead, you know.'
'What's that supposed to mean?' she snapped.
He handed her one of the manila envelopes of photographs.
'What's this?'
'Open it. Have a look. The jig, as they say, is up.'
'I thought you were my friend, that I could at least count on you.'
'You can, Penny.'
'Then do me the favor. I'll give you a phone number, Matt. And all you would have to do is meet the guy someplace.'
'You're not listening,' he said. 'Bullshit time is over, Penny. Look at the photographs.'
'You're a son of a bitch, you always have been. A son of a bitch and a shit. I hate you.'
'I like you too,' Matt said. 'Look at the goddamn pictures.'
'I don't want to look at any goddamn pictures. What are they of, anyway?'
She slid the stack of photographs out of the envelope.
'Oh, Jesus,' she said, her voice quavering.
'Got your attention now, have I?'
'Have you got him in jail?'
'In jail'? What the hell does that mean? Why should we have the FBI guys in jail?
'Looks familiar, does he?'
'He's the man who shot me, who killed Tony,' Penelope Detweiler said. 'I'll never forget him-that face-as long as I live.'
Jesus H. Christ! What the hell is she talking about? What am I into?
'We know all about you and Tony, Penny,' Matt said. 'As I said, you can stop the bullshit.'
'Who is this man? Why did he kill Tony?'
'Who knows?' Matt blurted.
'He won't tell you?'
'He's being difficult,' Matt said. 'I don't think he believes that you're alive. If he had killed you, there would be no witnesses.'
I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I'm just saying the first thing that pops into my mind. Jesus Christ, why did I do this? I'm going to fuck the whole thing up!
'I'll testify. I saw him. I saw him shoot Tony, and then he shot me.'
'Why didn't you tell us before?'
'I couldn't hurt my father that way,' Penelope said, making it clear she considered her reply to be self-evident. 'My God, Matt, he thinks I'm still his little girl.'
'And all the while you've been fucking Tony DeZego, right?'
'That's a shitty thing to say. We were in love. That was just like you, Matt. Always thinking the nastiest thing and then saying it in the nastiest possible way.'
'Tony the Zee had a wife and two kids,' Matt said. 'Little boys.'
He couldn't tell from the look in her eyes if this was news to her or not.
'I don't believe that,' she said.
'I told you, precious Penny, bullshit time is over. You were running around with a third-rate guinea gangster, amarried guinea gangster with two kids. Who was supplying you with cocaine.'
'He really was married?' she asked.
Matt nodded.
'I didn't know that,' she said. 'But it wouldn't have mattered. We were in love.'
'Then I feel sorry for you,' Matt said. 'I really do.'
'Does Daddy know about Tony?'
'Not yet. He knows about the coke. But he'll have to find out about DeZego.'
'Yes, I suppose he will,' she said calmly. 'If I'm going to testify against this man, and I will, it will just have to come out, and Daddy and Mommy will just have to adjust to it.'
She looked at him and smiled.
Jesus Christ, he thought, she's stoned.
He saw that her pupils were dilated.
Has she been getting that shit in here? In a hospital?
She's on cloud nine. I think the technical term is 'euphoric. ' She didn't even react when I called DeZego a guinea gangster, or when I told her he's married and has two kids. The first should have enraged her, and the second should have… caused a much greater reaction than it did. She didn't deny it when I said DeZego was supplying her with cocaine, and she didn't seem at all upset when I told her I know her father knows about the cocaine and will inevitably learn about her and DeZego.
Ergo sum, Sherlock Holmes, she doesn't give a damn about things that are important, and is therefore, almost by definition, stoned.
It could be, come to think of it, that she is stoned on something legitimate, something they gave her for the pain. Or possibly that Dr. Dotson gave her a maintenance dose, having decided that this is not the time or place to detoxify her, either because of her condition or because he 'd rather do that someplace where a lot of questions would not be asked.
So where are you now, hotshot? What do you do now?
'Penny, are you absolutely sure that the man in those photographs is the one who shot you?'
'I told you I was,' she said.
'And you are prepared to testify in court about that?'
'Yes, of course,' she said.
'Well, what happens now, Penny,' Matt explained-I don't know what the hell happens now-'isthat I will ask you to make a statement on the back of one of the photographs.'
'What?'
'Quote, 'Having been sworn, I declare that the individual pictured in this photograph is the individual who, on
