The leader of the firing party shouted his order and the eight men stiffened, snapped their rifles to their shoulders, raised them at once, and fired. The air was still, and she watched a cloud of smoke drift away over their heads. Then there was the second volley, then the third.
She caught Dick Stahl looking at her from the corner of his eye. She knew he was thinking about how close she had come to being the one in a box. She pretended she hadn’t seen, and focused instead on the dead man. She mentally said good-bye to Carmody. It was like waving to a friendly acquaintance as he walked away for the last time. She had given enough thought to his failings. They were erased now.
The chief, the priest of Carmody’s church, and one of his teammates said the words that people filling their roles always had to say — competing value systems expressed by people who didn’t seem to notice the contradictions between them.
The firing party, the color guard, and the pallbearers marched through the cordon of uniformed police officers, and then the members of the LAPD, sheriff’s department, and highway patrol, and all the nearby police forces moved off too. The woman left sitting near the grave with a couple of others had the folded flag from the coffin on her lap. She seemed to be Carmody’s mother. A woman who was probably a sister had her arm around her.
Hines took a step and felt Dick’s big hand close on her arm so he could keep her from falling. “I’m fine,” she whispered. “Don’t touch in public.” She wasn’t tottering on high heels. She was wearing a police uniform and sturdy, spit-shined shoes with wide soles.
He realized she was right, so he moved his hand quickly enough to disguise the touch as an accidental brush in a crowd. They didn’t seem to have drawn attention. They began to walk toward the remaining group of Bomb Squad members at the edge of the row where they had been seated.
When the two reached the group, the squad members surrounded Stahl to shake his hand and enveloped Hines in gentle hugs.
They all said they were sorry about Carmody and would miss him. Then Stahl, Hines, and the others began to walk toward their cars.
As they passed near the low dais where the high-ranking police officials and civilian dignitaries had sat, Deputy Chief Ogden separated himself from the others and caught Stahl and Hines.
“Hello,” he said to them. He patted Hines’s shoulder, a gesture that seemed to her to be prompted by the inherent maleness of the police uniform they both wore. “Sergeant Hines, you’re looking well. Are you feeling better?”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “Thank you for asking.”
He shook Stahl’s hand. “Dick,” he said, “I’ve been watching for you.” He glanced at Diane again. “Sergeant, would you mind if I borrowed him for just a few moments?”
“Of course not, sir. I see a couple of bomb techs over there that I missed.” She stepped off toward Elliot, who had just turned away from the grave.
Stahl walked with Ogden. “What’s up, Dave?”
“There’s no reason for you to come with me. It’s just me asking a friend for another favor.”
“What’s the favor?” Stahl asked.
“That black limo over there idling in the drive is the mayor’s.”
“It looks a lot like the hearse.”
“Your lips to God’s ear. Will you talk to him?”
Stahl slowed down for a moment, then stopped. “I don’t see much point in that.”
“I said it was a favor.” Ogden said. “If it was something you’d do anyway, it wouldn’t be a favor.”
Stahl nodded. “All right.”
Ogden conducted Stahl to the side of the road and up to the rear door of the limousine. He opened the door so Stahl had to duck inside, and then followed him in. Two rows of seats faced each other in the black interior. On one side sat the police chief and the mayor. On the other were Ogden and Stahl.
Stahl said, “Hello, Chief. Mr. Mayor.”
“Good to see you, Dick.” The chief smiled and spoke to Stahl, but the mayor was silent. The chief went on. “I hope you’re well.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “I just wish Carmody and the others were.”
The mayor seemed to feel insulted, and he sighed impatiently. “I have to tell you, Mr. Stahl, that the chief talked me into waiting around to hear what you have to say. I wasn’t eager.”
“I wasn’t either,” said Stahl. “And I’m not sure what you’ve waited to hear me say.”
“I’m here because I’ve been told repeatedly by these gentlemen that you have incontrovertible alibis and other evidence to prove you couldn’t have had any fault in anything that’s happened. After some discussion I agreed to accept that.”
“Sir—” Ogden said.
The mayor said, “Let me talk. I’ve been told repeatedly that there are only two men who understand those bombs — you, and the bomber. And now that you’ve got free time, the pace seems to have accelerated.”
“Interesting observation,” said Stahl. “I have a business that keeps me busy most of the time, and I’ve had to ignore it for a while. Now I’m catching up with the work.”
The chief said, “Mr. Mayor, we asked you to meet Mr. Stahl because we’re desperate. We just buried an experienced and very competent bomb team supervisor, and there are two bomb technicians who will be hospitalized for a long time, and may never be able to serve again. It’s our considered judgment that Mr. Stahl is our best chance to defeat this bomber, and to ensure we don’t lose anyone else before then. The city is in terrible danger as long as the bomber is at work.”
The mayor smirked. “What do you think, Mr. Stahl? Are you the only one who can save us?”
“No,” said Stahl. “Nobody is the only one.”
“But you think you’re one of the few who can.”
“It’s a question of doing your best to outlive a bomber. You try to avoid the traps he sets, and to destroy the substances that power them without making a mistake and getting killed. The longer you do that, the more likely he’ll make the first mistake with the explosives, or he’ll be seen, identified, and arrested.”
“Are you saying these men would be alive if you had still been there to supervise them?”
“I would have ordered them to take fewer chances.”
The mayor looked triumphant. “You do think so, don’t you?”
Stahl stared into the mayor’s eyes. “I do.”
The chief said, “Sir, maybe this isn’t the—”
“And you think it’s my fault.”
Stahl said, “I managed to get myself in trouble by breaking a police regulation. I did that by myself. I’m willing to help with the bombings, and I’ll do it free.”
The chief said, “Mr. Mayor, we have an assurance from the police commission that they’ll approve an agreement to have Mr. Stahl work with us as a civilian consultant.”
“You know I’m aware of that idea,” said the mayor. “I can’t appear to be providing a way for city employees to get around rules, and especially laws. The appearance of wrongdoing is as bad as wrongdoing.”
“With respect, I don’t think it is,” said the chief. “Having him with us is almost sure to save the lives of police officers and civilians.”
The mayor said, “I didn’t mean as bad for you. I meant as bad for good government and the future of the city. I’m an elected official, and any future opponent would bring this up for the next thirty years. I’ve listened. Now I’ve got to get back to city hall and do my job.”