James Hayman - The Cutting

McCabe looked at him. ‘Fuck you, Toomey.’ The man stiffened.

‘Alright, just hold it right there.’ Blanchard, conciliatory, held up both his hands, the good cop to Toomey’s bad cop. ‘Relax, Pat — and keep personal remarks to yourself. McCabe, you go back to work. You’re not being sidelined.’

‘Really? I thought the regs say we do desk duty any time a firearm is discharged.’

‘Let’s say you’ve been investigated,’ said Blanchard, ‘and cleared. You just didn’t notice it ’cause it happened so fast.’

‘We’re stretching the rules in your case, Mike, not breaking them,’ said Fortier. ‘For one thing, you didn’t kill anyone. Maggie did. For another, we need you right now. When you say we can’t count on the bad guys waiting, you’re right.’

‘Are you looking for a thank-you for that, Bill?’

‘Stretching the regs wasn’t Bill’s decision,’ said Toomey. ‘If you want to thank anyone, thank Shockley. It was his call. He’s the one who’ll have to take the heat. “For the good of the community,” he said.’

Blanchard added, ‘I just hope the department doesn’t end up paying for this down the road.’

‘Does Maggie know about any of this?’

‘No.’

‘When do I get her back?’

‘Shouldn’t be more than a day or so, maybe less,’ said Blanchard.

‘Personally,’ said Toomey, ‘in your case, McCabe, I would’ve gone by the book. I believe by your actions last night, going to meet that woman alone, without backup, you not only willfully ignored the rules of this department, you also set this whole clusterfuck in motion. It ended in the death of a fellow officer, the killing of one civilian, the wounding of another, and, last but not least, it looks like the guy in the elevator may be permanently paralyzed. But hey, I guess that’s how they do things in New York. Bill Bacon could have taken over this case from the beginning and, in my view, should have. Oh, by the way, in case you didn’t know it, Kevin Comisky left a wife and three children. The youngest’s only two years old.’

If Toomey’s intention was to induce guilt, he succeeded. ‘What’s the wife’s name?’

‘Carol.’

Carol. McCabe nodded. He’d have to call on Carol Comisky as soon as he could. Beyond that, he knew Toomey might be right about his decision to meet Sophie alone. That would haunt him. He was also surprised Shockley had gone out on a limb for him. Still, he said nothing about it.

‘Okay, that’s it,’ said Fortier. ‘You can go, Mike.’

‘Try real hard not to shoot anyone else,’ added Toomey. McCabe let the gibe pass.

Wednesday. 12:30 P.M.

Maggie dropped McCabe at his condo before heading home herself to shower and change. Jane Devaney met him at the door, index finger pressed against her lips in a shushing gesture.

‘What’s the matter?’ he whispered. She pushed him out onto the landing and quietly closed the door.

‘Casey’s here. I kept her home from school.’

‘Why? Is she sick?’

‘Not exactly, but she was awake pretty much all night. Crying a little. Worrying a lot. She crawled into my bed around two, but it was after seven before she finally dropped off. I let her sleep in.’

‘Was it about Sandy’s visit?’ He started for the door.

Jane put out a hand to block his way. ‘That’s in the mix somewhere, I suppose, but last night it was mostly about you.’

‘About me?’

‘Yeah. You. Last night she sees you leave here carrying a shotgun. Doesn’t know where you’re going or what you’re doing.’

‘Oh, Christ.’ McCabe sighed, another kernel of guilt starting to form.

‘A little later you call and scare her half to death. You tell her Maggie’s coming over. Later Maggie leaves and I turn up. You don’t. She asks where you are. I tell her I’m sure you’re all right. Then she tells me how her uncle was killed in a shootout when she was ten…’

‘Tommy.’

‘That’s right. Tommy. Obviously she’s worried sick about you getting killed, but she tries not to show it. Wants to be the good girl, the good cop’s daughter.’

‘I suppose me getting killed would mean I was abandoning her in a way, too. Just like her mother did. Was that part of it?’

‘Maybe, but I’m not sure it got that far.’

‘I’d better talk to her — ’

‘Yes. You’d better. Right now may not be the best time. She’s got it under control for now.’

‘So what do I say?’

‘Just be sensitive to how she feels. Make sure she knows you’re okay and that you care. You can talk to her a little more deeply when things calm down. Anyway, I’ll take her to school in a little while. Let me just grab a shower. I’ve been up all night, too.’

He found Casey in the kitchen eating a bowl of Cheerios. He slipped into the chair opposite her.

‘New scrunchie?’ McCabe asked, noticing the band of orange fabric holding her hair back.

‘Yeah, Sarah and I made them. Her mom showed us how. I’ve got two more.’

‘Good job.’

‘It’s easy. You just sew the cloth into a tube and push the stretchy stuff through with a safety pin. Then you sew the ends.’ She took it off and showed him.

‘Cool.’ He slipped the band around his head. ‘How do I look?’

‘Don’t. You’ll stretch it.’ She reached over and took the scrunchie off his head. ‘You okay?’ she asked.

‘I’m okay. Did you get any sleep?’

‘Not much. Maggie left in the middle of the night. Said she had to go meet you. Jane came over.’

‘Was that okay?’

‘I kind of wanted company. I slept with Jane. Where were you?’

‘Up in Gray interviewing a witness. Then over at Cumberland Med.’

‘Somebody get hurt?’

‘Yes.’ He didn’t go into detail.

‘Where’s your shotgun?’

‘I left it down at headquarters.’

‘Okay.’

‘It was important for me to be there.’

Casey studied him for a minute. ‘Okay,’ she said.

He took her hand, the one not holding the spoon.

‘Don’t,’ she said and pulled it away.

He realized he was famished. Maggie’s doughnuts and a spoonful of lasagna were all he’d eaten in nearly twenty-four hours. He got himself a bowl and spoon and poured out some Cheerios. He added milk and started munching. ‘Have you thought any more about seeing your mother?’

‘Yeah. A lot.’

‘So what do you think?’

‘You said I had to see her.’

‘I think you do. The judge gave her that right. How do you feel about that?’

‘I don’t know. She’s coming Friday?’

‘Yes. She’ll meet you here after school. She wants to take you to Boston for the weekend. Probably stay at some fancy hotel. Maybe go see a show.’

‘Big deal.’ Silence. ‘She’s really rich?’

‘Her husband is.’

Casey finished her cereal and took the bowl to the sink and rinsed it out. ‘His name’s Peter?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Peter what?’

‘Ingram.’

‘Is he my stepfather?’

‘Only if you want to think about him that way.’

‘I don’t think about him any way. I never even met him. He’s not coming, is he?’

‘I don’t think so. It’s just Sandy.’

‘How come you gave me the same name as her?’

‘It’s what she wanted when you were born.’ A little extension of herself, McCabe thought. ‘Anyway, it’s not really the same. You’re Casey. She’s Sandy.’

‘Ready to go?’ Jane appeared.

‘We’re both Cassandras,’ Casey said. ‘You guys aren’t gonna fight about me, are you? You and Mom?’

‘I hope not. I’ll try not to. I can’t speak for her.’

‘You’re supposed to be the grown-ups, you know.’