Уильям Макгиверн - Rogue Cop

“It wasn’t too bad.” He frowned at the floor, feeling weary and helpless. It wouldn’t work. There was no way to get to her, no way to bridge the barrier of bitterness he had built between them.

But miraculously, she came to him. “Don’t try to do too much all at once,” she said, putting a hand on his wrist. “Take it in easy stages. That works, you’ll find.”

“Look, I was wrong about you,” he said. “That was as wrong as I ever got. Can you believe that? Can you forgive me?”

“That won’t be hard, Mike. But let’s do it the way I suggested. In easy stages. Okay?”

“All right, whatever you say,” he said. Then he sighed and looked at the big clock above the police speaker. “The lieutenant’s waiting for me.”

They walked around the counter together and stopped at the swinging doors that opened on the corridor. “Eddie’s funeral is tomorrow morning,” he said. “Would you want to go with me?”

“I’d like that, Mike.”

“Look, I may be going to jail,” he said abruptly. “They can let me resign, or send me up. Either way, can I find you afterwards?”

“You’ll be able to find me,” she said slowly.

Carmody smiled into her small brave face, and put a hand on her shoulder. For just that instant there was a suggestion of the old hard confidence in his eyes. “I’ll see you, Karen,” he said.

“Good-by, Mike,” she said in a soft voice, and pushed through the swinging doors and walked quickly down the corridor.

Carmody watched her until she turned out of sight. Standing alone, he stared into the dim empty corridor, still seeing in his mind the graceful swing of her legs and the high proud look of her head and shoulders. After a few moments he shook his head and rubbed his forehead and eyes with the back of his good hand. Then he turned and walked slowly into the record room. The door to the lieutenant’s office stood open, and Carmody saw that Wilson was waiting for him, an empty chair pulled up beside his desk.

Carmody wet his lips, suddenly swept by an emotion that he couldn’t define. Part of it was fear, but there was something else, too. For a moment he stood indecisively, staring at the empty chair that waited for him at Wilson’s elbow. Finally, it came to him; this was what he felt as a child when he waited in the line at the confessional. Fear, yes, but something else. And the other thing was the sweeping relief that came from the anticipation of forgiveness.

Smiling slowly, Carmody walked into the lieutenant’s office. “Let’s go,” he said, and eased himself gratefully into the empty chair.