"Then you do understand. But the difference with me was that one authority said one thing and another authority said something else entirely. The law of the land said a man can't be forced to testify against himself, but the precinct captain said it was part of my job to get a suspect to confess. The law of the land said you couldn't invade a man's home without a warrant, but New York State law gave the cops permission to try to get around that. The Constitution says a man can walk the street without fear of being accosted by police, but the state gave us permission to stop and frisk, and many an upper-echelon cop encouraged his men to do just that. Police are supposed to carry out the law, but I found out that lots of my superiors thought it was their job to make it. Like I said, the confusion in my mind kept growing until the whole business of a Civilian Review Board came along. That was the straw that broke the camel's back."
"You were against it," Llona guessed.
"Sure I was. I was a cop, wasn't I? Maybe some of the boys do get a little rougher than they have to sometime, but-"
"A policeman's lot is not an easy one," Llona repeated, finishing the sentence for him.
"Exactly. I may have been confused, but I was still a cop. So I campaigned against the Civilian Review Board every chance I got. How could I have known that it would be the issue that would send me straight to the laughing academy?"
"What happened?"
"I was sent out one day with the tow truck for parking violations. Remember, there was a campaign on then to crack down on drivers who parked their cars illegally in the midtown area. The idea was to ticket them fast and tow them away. Then they'd get charged a fine for illegal parking, a. towing fee, and a storage fee by the city for keeping their car."
"Let the punishment fit the crime," Llona murmured.
"I don't know about that. I was just acting under orders. Anyway, this particular day I tagged a car on Lexington Avenue, and I'm helping the guy with the tow truck hook on to the vehicle when the driver comes on the scene. He protests that he's there, and so there's no reason to tow the car away. I point out that the law says it should be towed away anyway, and that's what we're going to do. Well, this character gets real red in the face and steam starts coming out of his ears and first thing I know, he's lying right down in the street in front of his car and refusing to move. Well, a crowd collects and they're cheering the guy on and jeering at me and the situation is really getting out of hand. So I call the precinct and the captain send the lieutenant down to straighten things out. When the lieutenant gets there, first thing he notices something I missed."
"What was that?" Llona wondered.
"Plastered all over the back of this guy's bumper are stickers saying 'SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL POLICE!' and 'STOP CIVILIAN REVIEW BOARD!' " "Oh."
"Yeah. Oh. Well, the lieutenant calls me around to the back of the car and points these bumper stickers out to me. You can imagine how I felt. Here I am caught in the middle. On the one hand this guy is supporting my cause. On the other, he's breaking the law and I'm a cop and I'm supposed to enforce the law. The way he's lying in the street now is a clear case of interfering with an officer in the performance of his duty. I point this out to the lieutenant. The lieutenant points out the bumper stickers to me again. Is he telling me to let the guy go? I put it to the lieutenant. He isn't telling me nothing. That's the lieutenant's only word. Let my conscience be my guide, says he. So there I am. I have to make up my own mind. Do I arrest this guy? Or do I appreciate his stand and let him go? It's a predicament."
"A conflict of interest," Llona defined it.
"Yeah. So I stood there and thought about it. And the more I thought about it, the more confused I got."
"Only a civilian without any axe to grind for the police could have decided," Llona suggested.
"Hey! You know that's true. Some higher authority not connected with the police. That's what there ought to be in cases like that. Somebody or some group that could be impartial."
"Like a Civilian Review Board," Llona said very softly.
"You trapped me!" He looked at her with an injured air. "Just for that, I think I will scream."
"No! Don't do that!" Llona urged hastily. "Tell me how you worked it out. You must have done something. So maybe I'm wrong. Maybe the police don't need supervision. What did you do?"
"I cracked," the patient admitted. "I flipped. I couldn't make the decision. I couldn't decide what was authority and what was anti-authority. I couldn't decide where my obligation was. I couldn't decide whether to support him because he was supporting the police, or to arrest him because he was breaking the law. So I broke down. I'm ashamed to admit it. I started crying. That's all I remember. Crying. And then being in the station house with this police psychiatrist asking me all kinds of questions. And then coming here."
"How come they sent you here?" Llona wondered. "After all, this is a long way from New York."
"Oh, the PBA looks after its own. I guess they figured I'd get better treatment here. After all, in a way I was incapacitated in the line of duty."
"Or maybe they thought it would be better to have you far, far away," Llona took a stab. "After all, your predicament could have been embarrassing with that referendum coming up."
"That wasn't it!" He sounded positive. "Or was it?" Now there was doubt in his voice. "Anyway, that's how come I'm here. And that's how come I can't decide what to do about your being in here. I just can't make decisions any more."
Fate stepped in to relieve the ex-cop of the responsibility of making this particular decision. The door to the room opened, and Hannah's bulk filled the entryway. "Here you are!" she exclaimed. "I've been looking everywhere for you. I thought I told you to go down to the office and wait there!"
"At last!" The ex-cop took in Hannah's white uniform. "An authority figure. Tell me what to do."
"Close your eyes and pretend you never saw this girl," Hannah told him.
He closed his eyes and pretended he'd never seen Llona.
"I ran into an attendant and had to hide," Llona explained as Hannah hustled her out of the room.
"Well, never mind. I'm going to take you back to the office myself. And you wait there until I can find Sammy and get the two of you out of here. If they ever trace your being here to me, I'm out of a job." Having made her point, Hannah fell silent as she led Llona back to the office. When they got there, she spoke again. "I have to go back and find Sammy," she told Llona. "You'd better get back in the closet and wait there while I'm gone in case someone comes into the office. I'll bring Sammy back here and then help the two of you get off the premises. I won't breathe easy until you're gone. I never should have agreed to any of this in the first place."
"Why did you?"
"That Sammy is a devil. So masterful. What woman could resist him?"
Llona didn't really feel it necessary to ponder that question as she waited alone in the darkness of the closet after Hannah left. As far as she was concerned, Sammy Spayed was one of the most resistible men she'd ever met. Still, she could understand how Hannah felt. When a woman's body yearned, that yearning was apt to grow into an obsession centering around the first man who paid any serious attention to it. And, after all, wasn't that the way it was where she and Archer were concerned? Which reminded Llona that she still hadn't seen the face of Archibald Ogilvie, and set her to wondering again if the elusive and violent Ogilvie really was her Archer.
As her thoughts dwelt on him, Ogilvie was still occupied with the button-maker. A zealous light lent menace to his eyes as he stood threateningly over the bed. "What do you believe in?" he snarled.
"I BELIEVE IN THE AMERICAN WAY!" the button-maker quoted. There was a note of desperation in his voice. He sensed that he was in danger. His brain struggled to push forth the thoughts of the right buttons.