"Time is often critically important in cases like this-"
"I know why you think you should see her," Dr. Dotson interrupted. If the interruption annoyed Washington, it didn't show on his face or in his voice.
"And we really do understand your concern about unduly upsetting your patient, and with that in mind I arranged for Officer Payne to come with me and actually speak with Miss Detweiler. Officer Payne is a close friend-"
"So thatis who you are! Matt Payne, right? Brewster Payne's boy?"
"Yes, sir," Matt said politely.
"I thought I recognized you. And you're a policeman?"
"Yes, sir."
"That's a new one on me," Dr. Dotson said. "Since when?"
"Since right after graduation, Dr. Dotson," Matt said.
"Well, you understand my concern, Matt. I don't want anything to upset Penny. She's been severely traumatized. Physically and psychologically. For a while there, frankly, I thought we might lose her."
"She's going to be all right now?"
"Well, I don't think she's going to die," Dr. Dotson said. "But she's still very weak. We had her in the operating room for over two hours."
"I understand, sir," Matt said.
"I'm going in there with you," Dr. Dotson said. "And I want you to keep looking at me. When I indicate that I want you to leave the room, I want you to leave right then. Understood? Agreed?"
"Yes, of course, sir."
"Very well, then."
If it had been Dr. Dotson's intention to discreetly keep Jason Washington out of Penelope Detweiler's room, he failed. By the time the doctor turned to close the door, Washington was inside the room, already leaning against the wall, as if to signal that while he had no intention of intruding, neither did he intend to leave.
Penny Detweiler's appearance shocked Matt Payne. The head of her bed was raised slightly, so that she could watch television. Her face and throat and what he could see of her chest were, where the skin was not covered with bandages and exposed sutures, black and blue, as if she had been severely beaten. Patches of hair had been shaved from the front of her head, and there were bandages and exposed sutures there too. Transparent tubing fed liquid into her right arm from two bottles suspended at the head of the bed.
"Now that the beauticians are through with you, are you ready for the photographer?" Matt asked.
"I made them give me a mirror," she said. "Aren't I ghastly?"
"I cannot tell a lie. You look like hell," Matt said. "How do you feel?"
"As bad as I look," she said, and then, "Matt, what areyou doing here? And how did you get in?"
"I'm a cop, Penny."
"Oh, that's right. I heard that. I don't really believe it. Why did you do something like that?"
"I didn't want to be a lawyer," Matt said. He saw that Dr. Dotson, who had been tense, had now relaxed somewhat.
She laughed and winced.
"It hurts," she said. "Don't make me laugh,"
"What the hell happened, Penny?"
"I don't know," she said. "I was walking to the stairwell. You know where this happened to me?"
"We found you. Amanda Spencer and me. When we drove on the roof, you were on the floor. Amanda called the cops."
"You did? I don't remember seeing you."
"You were unconscious," Matt said.
"I guess I won't be able to make it to the wedding, will I?" she asked, and then added, "What are they going to do about the wedding?"
"I saw Daffy-and the Brownes-before I came here. They asked me what I thought about that, and since it was none of my business, I told them."
She giggled, then winced again.
"I told you, don't make me laugh," she said. "Every time I move my-chest-it hurts."
"Sorry."
"What did you tell them?"
"That Chad is in the Marines and that they couldn't postpone it."
"And?"
"I don't know, but I think everything's going ahead as planned."
"Just because this happened to me is no reason to ruin everybody else's fun," Penny said.
"I still don't know what happened to you," Matt said.
"I don't really know," Penny said.
"You don't remember anything?"
"I remember getting out of my car and walking toward the stairwell. And then the roof fell in on me. I remember, sort of, being in a truck-not an ambulance, a truck-and I think there was a cop in there with me. But that's all."
"There's no roof over the roof," Matt said.
"You know what I mean. It was like something ran into me. Hit me hard."
"You didn't see anyone up there?"
"No."
"Nothing at all?"
"There was nobody up there but me," she said firmly.
"Does the name Tony DeZego mean anything to you?"
"No. Who?"
"Tony. Tony DeZego."
"No," she said, "should it?"
"No reason it should."
"Who is he?"
"A guinea gangster," Matt said.
"A what?"
"An Italian-American with alleged ties to organized crime," Matt said dryly.
"Why are you asking me about him?"
"Well, he was up there too," Matt said. "On the roof of the garage. Somebody blew the top of his head off with a shotgun."
"My God!"
"No great loss to society," Matt said. "He wasn't even a good gangster. Just a cheap thug with ambition. A small-time drug dealer, from what I hear."
"I think that's about enough of a visit, Matt," Dr. Dotson said. " Penny needs rest. And her parents are on their way."
Matt touched her arm.
"I'll bring you a piece of the wedding cake," he said. "Try to behave yourself."
"I don't have any choice, do I?" she said.
In the corridor outside, Dr. Dotson laid a hand on Matt's arm.
"I can't imagine why you told her about that gangster," he said.
"I thought she'd be interested," Matt said.
"Thank you very much, Dr. Dotson," Jason Washington said. "I very much appreciate your cooperation."
"She's lying," Matt said when Washington got in the passenger seat beside him.
"She is? About what?"
"About knowing DeZego."
"Really? What makes you think so?"
"Jesus, didn't you see her eyes when I called him a 'guinea gangster'?"
"You're a regular little Sherlock Holmes, aren't you?" Washington asked.
Matt looked at him, the hurt showing in his eyes.
"If I did that wrong in there, I'm sorry," he said. "If you didn't think I could handle it, you should have told me what to ask and how to ask it. I did the best I could."
"As a matter of fact, hotshot," Washington said, "I couldn't have done it any better myself. I would have phrased the questions a little differently, probably, because I don't know the lady as well as you do, but that wasn't at all bad. One of the most difficult calls to make in an interview like that, with a subject like that, is when to let them know you know they're lying. That wasn't the time."
"I didn't think so, either," Matt said, and then smiled, almost shyly, at Washington.
"Let's go to the parking garage," Washington said.
As they drove around City Hall, Matt said, "I'd like to know for sure if she's taking dope. Do you suppose they took blood when she got to the hospital? That could be tested?"
"I'm sure they did," Washington said. "But as a matter of law, not to mention ethics, the hospital could not make the results of that test known to the police. It would be considered, in essence, an illegal search or seizure, as well as a violation of the patient's privacy. Her rights against compulsory incrimination would also be involved."
"Oh," Matt said.
"Your friend is a habitual user of cocaine," Washington went on, " using it in quantities that make it probable that she is on the edges of addiction to it."
Matt looked at him in surprise.