W.E.B Griffin - Men In Blue

"You want me to come along, Chief?" Lenihan asked.

"I think maybe you better," Coughlin said, and opened the door.

The door to the McFadden house had a doorbell, an old-fashioned, cast-iron device mounted in the center of the door. You twisted it, and it rang. Coughlin remembered one just like it on the door of the row house where he had grown up. Somebody, he thought, had probably made a million making those bells; there was one on just about every row house in Philly.

Agnes McFadden opened the door, and looked at them in surprise as Coughlin whipped off his snap-brimmed straw hat.

" 'Evening, ma'am," he said. "I'm Chief Inspector Coughlin. I'd like to see Officer McFadden, if that would be convenient."

"What?" Agnes McFadden said.

"We'd like to see Charley, if we can," Lenihan said. "I'm Sergeant Lenihan and this is Chief Inspector Coughlin."

"He's in the kitchen, with his lieutenant," she said. "Lieutenant Pekach. And Mr. McFadden."

"Could we see him, do you think?" Coughlin asked.

"Sure, of course, I don't know what I was thinking of, please come in."

They followed her down a dark corridor to the kitchen, where the three men sat at the kitchen table. There was a bottle of Seagram's 7Crown and quart bottles of Coke and beer on the table.

Pekach's eyes widened when he saw them. He started to get up.

"Keep your seat, David," Coughlin said. Officer Charley McFadden, who was sitting slumped straight out in the chair, supporting a Kraft cheese glass of liquor on his stomach, finally realized that something was happening. He looked at the three strangers in his kitchen without recognition.

Coughlin crossed the small room to him with his hand extended.

"McFadden, I apologize for barging into your home like this, but I wanted to congratulate you personally on a job well done. I'm sure your parents are very proud of you. The police department is."

Matt saw that McFadden had no idea who was shaking his hand.

Charley's father put that in words. "Who're you?" he asked.

"Mr. McFadden," Lieutenant Pekach said, "this is Chief Inspector Coughlin. And that's Sergeant Lenihan. I'm afraid I don't know the other gentleman."

"My name is Matthew Payne," Matt said, putting out his hand.

"Matt is… Captain Moffitt was Matt's uncle," Coughlin said.

"I'm sorry about your uncle," Charley McFadden said. Then he realized that he should be standing, and got up. He looked at Coughlin. "You're Chief Inspector Coughlin," he said, but there was a question, or disbelief, in his voice.

"That's right," Coughlin said.

"Could I offer you gentlemen a little something to drink?" Mrs. McFadden asked.

"All I got, I'm afraid, is the Seagram's Seven," Mr. McFadden said.

"Well, we're all off duty," Coughlin said. "I think a little Seagram' s Seven would go down very nicely."

More cheese glasses were produced, and filled three-quarters full of whiskey..

"I'm afraid the house is a terrible mess," Agnes McFadden said.

"Looks fine to me," Dennis Coughlin said. He raised his glass. "To Officer McFadden, of whom we're all very proud."

"I didn't want that to happen to him," Charley McFadden said, very slowly. "Jesus Christ, that shouldn't happen to anybody."

"Charley," Coughlin said, firmly. "What happened to Gallagher, he brought on himself."

Charley looked at him, and finally said, "Yes, sir."

"Lieutenant Pekach, may I see you a moment?" Coughlin said, and signaled Matt to come along.

They went to the vestibule.

"Where's his partner?" Coughlin asked.

"He was here, Chief. His doctor gave him something to calm him down, and it didn't mix with the booze. I sent him home."

"McFadden on anything?"

"No, sir." Pekach said. "He's got a thing about pills. He won't even take an aspirin."

"How long are you going to stay?"

"As long as necessary," Pekach said. "The booze will get to him, sooner or later."

"Had you planned to write him up?"

"A commendation?" Pekach asked. "I hadn't thought about that. But yes, sure."

"Not only 'at great risk to his life,' " Coughlin said. "But ' exercising great restraint,' et cetera, et cetera. You follow me?"

"Yes, sir."

"This is going to be all over the papers," Coughlin said. "George Kegley tells me that Mickey O'Hara was even up on the elevated tracks. What's that going to do to McFadden on the streets?"

"Well, he won't be much use, not what he's been doing," Pekach said.

"I'll find something else for him to do." Coughlin said. "When you're that age, working plainclothes, and they put you back in a uniform, you think you did something wrong. I don't want that to happen."

"I'll find something for him, Chief," Pekach said.

When they went back in the kitchen, Officer McFadden was being nauseous in the sink. Coughlin put out his hand and stopped Matt from going in, then gestured for Sergeant Lenihan to come along with them.

When they were in the car, moving north on South Broad Street, Coughlin reached forward and touched Matt Payne's shoulder. Matt turned and looked at him.

"Still think you want to be a cop, Matt?" he asked.

"I was just wondering how I would react in a situation like that," Matt said, softly.

"And?"

"I don't know," Matt said. "I was wondering. But to answer your question, yes, I still want to be a cop."

Coughlin made a grunting noise.

"Tom," he ordered, "when you get to a phone, call Pekach and tell him I want that boy and his partner at the funeral tomorrow. And then find out who's in charge of the seating arrangements and make sure they have seats in Saint Dominic's."

"Uniform or plainclothes?"

Coughlin thought that over a moment. "Uniforms," he said. "I think uniforms. Tell Pekach to make sure they get haircuts and are cleaned up."

"I've got to check my machine," Peter said, when he and Louise had returned from dinner and put the Jaguar into the garage. "It won't take a minute."

"I'll go with you," she said, and caught his hand and held it as they walked up the stairs. Inside the apartment, as he snapped on the lights, he saw that she was standing very close, looking at him.

She wants to be kissed, he realized. Jesus, that's nice.

But when he put his arms around her, and she pressed her body against his, and he tried to kiss her, she averted her face.

"I've got some Lavoris," Peter said.

She chuckled.

"No," she said. "That's not it. But I'll be on the air at eleven, and I don't want everybody in the Delaware Valley thinking, 'That dame looks like she just got out of bed."'

"You really think it shows?" he asked, smelling her hair.

"Once might not," she said. "But we seem to have a certain tendency to keep going back for seconds."

"God, you feel good," Peter said, giving in to an urge to hug her tightly.

"Duty calls," Louise said, freeing herself. "Yours and mine. See what your machine says."

There were a number of messages. Barbara Crowley had called.

"Peter, your mother called and asked me if I was going to the wake. I told her that I expected to hear from you. Please call me. I'll go over there with you, if you want me to."

And Detective Jason Washington had called:

"This is Jason Washington, Inspector," his recorded voice reported tinnily. "It's five-thirty. In a manner of speaking, we have Gerald Vincent Gallagher. McFadden, the kid from Narcotics who identified the girl, went looking for him, and found him at the Bridge Street Terminal. The reason I say 'in a manner of speaking' is that Gallagher got himself run over by a subway train. After he hit the third rail. Hell of a mess. McFadden knew Gallagher, of course, and so did a couple of guys from the Fifteenth District. But under the circumstances, I think, and so does Lieutenant Natali, that they'll probably want Miss Dutton to identify the body as that of the man she saw in the Waikiki. They just took the body to the medical examiner's. Do you think you could get in touch with her, and take her down there around seven, seven-thirty? I'd appreciate it if you could call me. I' ll either be here at the office, or at the M.E.'s, or maybe home. Thank you."