The secretary told Hastings to go on in, and he did. He was somewhat surprised to see Captain Anthony in Deputy Chief Murray’s office, too. Captain Anthony stood to greet Hastings, and Fenton Murray was forced to stand also.
They took seats and Murray asked Hastings what had happened.
Hastings gave his side of it and said he had not talked with the guys on his team since he left the hospital, so he couldn’t speak for them. He told the story slowly and deliberately, as if he were typing out a report or his words were being recorded.
He finished and Murray said, “Did you get a good look at the man?”
Hastings said, “I can’t say that I did. I didn’t see him on the stairwell, just heard him. I saw the back of him in the alley, about forty to fifty yards from me. But if I were asked if I believed it was Reese, I would say that I do.”
Murray said, “Why?”
“I don’t know, exactly. The weapon he used. The way he ran. The position he took in the apartment building.”
Murray let silence fill the room. Then he said, “That’s it?”
“Well,” Hastings said, “no, that’s not all of it. It was also the way he spoke to me.”
“Spoke to you?” Murray said. “I thought you said you didn’t see him?”
“That is what I said. We didn’t have a conversation, no. But I heard him. He called out to me.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘You shouldn’t have come after me.’”
“‘You shouldn’t have come after me.’”
“Yes, sir.”
“He said this when?”
“After he shot me.”
“Anything else? I mean, did he say anything else?”
“No.”
“And these words, they make you think the shooter was John Reese?”
“Yes.”
Murray displayed another skeptical frown and said, “The senator thinks you overreacted.”
There was silence for a moment, Hastings waiting for some sort of elaboration. He didn’t get one.
Hastings said, “Overreacted to what? Getting shot?”
Murray said, “He’s not saying you didn’t get shot. He’s saying it wasn’t Reese who shot you. Or shot at you.”
“He wasn’t there.”
“Reese?”
“No, the senator. He wasn’t in the park. I was.”
Captain Anthony spoke, trying to pacify him, saying, “George—”
Hastings said to Murray, “Who does the senator think it was?”
Murray shrugged. “A junkie. Or a burglar trying to rob the apartment.”
Hastings said, “I got shot with a high-powered rifle. At night, from about two hundred yards. Not a Saturday-night special. That was the work of a professional. Not a fu—not a junkie.”
“Then how come you’re alive?” Murray said.
Hastings could still feel the pain in his shoulder. The physician had told him it would hurt for a few days, the way any severe bruise would. Like getting pounded with a sledgehammer.
In a controlled voice, Hastings said, “I don’t know why I’m alive. Maybe I got lucky. Maybe he got distracted. Maybe he was showing mercy.”
Murray said, “Mercy? That wouldn’t exactly be in character for our suspect, would it?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“You seem to know it was him you were chasing.”
“I said I believe it was him. I don’t know it was.” Hastings looked at Anthony, as if to make an appeal to reason. He said, “Look, Preston wasn’t there. I was. Why are you giving more weight to what he says?”
Murray raised his hands in some sort of gesture, suggesting Hastings was being overly sensitive. “I just want to get it straight, that’s all.”
“Are you sure?” Hastings said.
Sensing insolence, Murray leaned forward and said, “What do you mean by that?”
“Nothing,” Hastings said. “I guess I’d just like to get it straight, too.”
Murray said, “You think Senator Preston has some personal thing with you? A city police officer?” Murray giving him a patronizing smile now.
“I don’t think it has anything to do with me,” Hastings said. “But, yes, I think he seems to want to discourage people from thinking it was John Reese I pursued.”
“And why would he want to do that?”
“I don’t know,” Hastings said. “For some reason, he doesn’t want federal protection. But he wants some sort of protection, and he’s been getting it from the local police. In my opinion, he wants to have the protection without seeming to want it. Or have people think he wants it.”
Murray said, “Well, that wouldn’t say much for him, would it?”
“No, it wouldn’t.”
This wasn’t quite the response Murray had been expecting. He said, “Maybe you’re the one who’s feeling something personal here.”
“Well, I got shot. Wouldn’t you take it personally?” Hastings looked at Captain Anthony and then back at the deputy chief. “It could have been my life out there. Or the life of one of my men. No one’s asking for a thank-you, but it would be nice not be second-guessed. Or accused of lying.”
Murray said, “Preston hasn’t called you a liar. He’s simply said he thinks you’re mistaken. He’s entitled to that opinion.”
Hastings shook his head. “Not really.”
“I see,” Murray said. “Maybe it would be better if we removed you from this assignment.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said I’d rather you didn’t.”
Murray said, “Now I’m confused. From what I understand, Lieutenant, you didn’t want this assignment in the first place.”
“That was before.”
Murray said, “And now you do want it?”
“I’d prefer to stay on, yes.”
Now Captain Anthony spoke. “George,” he said. “I don’t think you understand. The senator has requested that you be taken off the detail.”
Hastings looked at both of the other men in turn. He said, “May I ask why?”
Anthony said, “He told us he doesn’t think you’re qualified.” Anthony raised a hand. “No one here is saying he’s right. In fact, I think he’s wrong. I think you did well. You, Murph, Rhodes—all of you. But it doesn’t matter what I think. It’s what he wants. And what he wants, the chief is going to want. Sorry, George, but that’s how it is.”
Hastings asked, “Who’s going to take it over?”
Anthony said, “Me, I suppose. If anyone.”
Hastings looked at him for a moment. Then he said, “‘If anyone’? I don’t understand.”
Anthony said, “Senator Preston’s not sure he wants police protection anymore.”