SCULLY WOKE and Van Loon was taking his pulse again. She had fresh clothes on and smelled of soap.
‘All that boose,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It was a lot.’
‘You are strong.’
He shrugged, tried to muster some confidence. ‘I feel better.’
‘Good.’
‘Am I crazy?’
‘Not so much. Sad, maybe.’
‘You look sad yourself,’ he said, surprising himself.
‘No,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘Crazy to have this job.’
‘Is Billie still here?’
She nodded. ‘She is like you?’
‘What will the charges be?’
‘No charges. Keep away from the dildos.’
‘Yes,’ he said meekly. ‘You too.’
• • •
THEY LED HIM UP THROUGH the tunnels into the fresher air. Amidst the snarls of desks and glass partitions he signed forms with his hands shaking. A meek daylight tinted the windows. He saw Billie standing by the glass. She waved minutely, face compressed. He felt a kind of remorse he had not felt before, a sense of humiliation that flattened even his relief. They could have taken her. He would have deserved it. He dropped his head a moment, unable to look. The cops seemed relieved to see the back of him. He watched her shaking their hands. A new shift straggled in. He stepped out to meet her.