"And then what? How do you expect to get out of here, Virginia? You haven't got a chance."
Virginia smiled thinly.
"I'll get out, all right."
"Will you? You fire a gun in here, and every cop in ten miles will come barging upstairs."
"I'm not worried about that, Lieutenant."
"No, huh? Talk sense, Virginia. You want to get the electric chair? Is that what you want?"
"I don't care. I don't want to live without Frank." Byrnes paused for a long time. Then he said, "I don't believe you, Virginia."
"What don't you believe? That I'm going to kill Carella? That I'll shoot the first one who does anything to stop me?"
"I don't believe you're fool enough to use that gun. I'm walking out of here, Virginia. I'm walking back to my office ..
"No, you're not!"
"Yes, I am. I'm walking back to my office, and here's why. There are four men in this room, counting me. You can shoot me, maybe, and maybe another one after me but you'll have to be pretty fast and pretty accurate to get all of us."
"I'll get all of you, Lieutenant," Virginia said, and the thin smile reappeared on her mouth.
"Yeah, well I'm not willing to bet on that.
Jump her the minute she fires, men." He paused.
"I'm going to my office, Virginia, and I'm going to sit in there for five minutes. When I come out, you'd better be gone, and we'll forget all about this.
Otherwise I'm going to slap you silly and take that gun away from you and dump you into the detention cells downstairs. Now is that clear, Virginia?"
"It's very clear."
"Five minutes," Byrnes said curtly, and he wheeled and started toward his office.
With supreme confidence in her voice, Virginia said, "I don't have to shoot you, Lieutenant."
Byrues did not break his stride.
"I don't have to shoot any of you."
He continued walking.
"I've got a bottle of nitroglycerin in my purse."
Her words came like an explosion.
Byrnes stopped in his tracks and turned slowly to face her, his eyes dropping to the big black bag in her lap. She had turned the barrel of the gun so that it pointed at the bag now, so that its muzzle was thrust into the opening at the top of the bag.
"I don't believe you, Virginia," Byrnes said, and he turned and reached for the doorknob again.
"Don't open that door, Lieutenant," Virginia shouted, "or I'll fire into this purse and we can all go to Hell!"
He thought in that moment before twisting the doorknob, She's lying. She hasn't got any soup in that purse, where would she get any?
And then he remembered that among her husband's many criminal offenses had been a conviction for safe-blowing.
But she hasn't any soup, he thought, Jesus, that's crazy. But suppose she does?
But she won't explode it. She's waiting for Carella. She wouldn't..
And then he thought simply, Meyer Meyer has a wile and three children.
Slowly, he let his hand drop. Wearily, he turned to Virginia Dodge.
"That's better," she said.
"Now let's wait for Carella."
Steve Carella was nervous.
Sitting alongside Teddy, his wife, he could feel nervousness ticking along the backs of his hands, twitching in his fingers. Clean-shaved, his high cheekbones and downward-slanting eyes giving him an almost Oriental appearance, he sat with his mouth tensed, and the doctor smiled gently.
"Well, Mr. Carella," Dr. Randolph said, "your wife is going to have a baby."
The nervousness fled almost instantly. The cork had been pulled, and the violent waters of his tension overran the tenuous walls of the dike, leaving only the muddy silt of uncertainty. If anything, the uncertainty was worse. He hoped it did not show. He did not want it to show to Teddy.
"Mr. Carella," the doctor said, "I can see the prenatal jitters erupting all over you. Relax.
There's nothing to worry about."
Carella nodded, but even the nod lacked conviction. He could feel the presence of Teddy beside him, his Teddy, his Theodora, the girl he loved, the woman he'd married. He turned for an instant to look at her face, framed with hair as black as midnight, the brown eyes gleaming with pride now, the silent red lips slightly parted.
I mustn't spoil it for her, he thought.
And yet he could not shake the doubt.
"May I reassure you on several points, Mr.
Carella?" Randolph said.
"Well, I really ..
"Perhaps you're worried about the infant.
Perhaps, because your wife is a deaf mute, born that way.." perhaps you feel the infant may also be born handicapped. This is a reasonable fear, Mr. Carella."
"I ..
"But a completely unfounded one," Randolph smiled.
"Medicine is in many respects a cistern of ignorance- but we do know that deafness, though sometimes congenital, is not hereditary.
For example, perfectly normal offspring have been produced by two deaf parents. Lon Chancy is the most famous of these offspring, I suppose.
With the proper care and treatment, your wife will go through a normal pregnancy and deliver a normal baby.
She's a healthy animal, Mr. Carella. And it I may be so bold, a very beautiful one."
Teddy Carella, reading the doctor's lips, came close to blushing. Her beauty, like a rare rose garden which a horticulturist has come to take for granted, was a thing she'd accepted for a long time now. It always came as a surprise, therefore, when someone referred to it in glowing terms.
These were the face and the body with which she had been living for a good many years. She could not have been less concerned over whether or not they pleased the strangers of the world. She wanted them to please one person alone: Steve Carella.
Now, with Steve's acceptance of the idea coupling with her own thrilled anticipation, she felt a soaring sense of joy.
"Thank you, Doctor," Carella said.
"Not at all," Randolph answered.
"Good luck to you both. I'll want to see you in a few weeks, Mrs. Carella. Now take care of her."
"I will," Carella answered, and they left the obstetrician's office. In the corridor outside, Teddy threw herself into his arms and kissed him violently.
"Hey!" he said.
"Is that any way for a pregnant woman to behave?"
Teddy nodded, her eyes glowing mischievously. With one sharp twist of her dark head, she gestured toward the elevators.
"You want to go home, huh?"
She nodded.
"And then what?"
Teddy Carella was eloquently silent.
"It'll have to wait," he said.
"There's a little suicide I'm supposed to be covering."