lifts his head.
“What?”
“What did he say to you?”
“He said I’m a pathetic excuse for a detective. And you know what, Pete? He’s right.”
“Hank, I’m not listening. You’re drunk and you’re talking gibberish. I refuse to listen.”
“Well, you’d better. This case was a dog from the beginning, Pete. I told you it was a dog. And you wouldn’t listen to me. And now it’s the ruin of me.”
“You’re overreacting.”
He shakes his head melancholically. “She forgot. It slipped her mind.”
“What?”
“That’s what Carrie said when I asked her why she didn’t tell me about Kristen saying something about how Cogan should see a doctor. ‘I forgot. There was a lot of stuff going on in my head,’ he says, mimicking her high-pitched voice. ‘And you never asked me anything about that stuff.’ And you know what? She was right. Isn’t that a hoot, Pete? I never asked. You know why?”
“Because of the diary,” Pastorini said impatiently. “I know, you told me.”
He lets out a little belch and, seeing his Coke is finished, takes the one that’s sitting in front of Pastorini.
“I see why you like this stuff,” he says after he’d gulped down half his drink. “Very refreshing.”
“So let’s recap, Hank.”
“Yes, let’s.”
“We’ve got a bunch of inadmissible, illegally obtained evidence, a victim who’s suddenly highly lacking in the credibility department, an insecure detective who he thinks he’s full of shit, and a key witness who very possibly may have had sex with the victim while she was in a severely debilitated state.”
“Sounds about right,” he agrees, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Your dog is looking mighty mangy at this point. What do you say we put him out of his misery?”
“Not a chance.”
Just then he feels his phone vibrating. He takes the Motorola out of its belt clip and hands it to Pastorini.
“It’s my wife,” he says, flipping it open for him. “Can you talk to her? I don’t think I’m in any condition to talk to her. She’s called twice already.”
Pastorini takes the phone.
“Maria, it’s Pete.” A beat, then: “No, I’ve never seen him like this. But he’s all right. I’m going to get him home shortly. I’m going to drive him, so don’t worry.”
Handing the phone back to him, he says, “We’re right back at square one, Hank. Nothing’s changed except that we have another bad guy to take down.”
“I’m the bad guy.”
“No, you’re not. This guy’s the bad guy,” he says, holding up Jim’s student clinic report.
“Maybe. But it’s too messed up. I already fucked it up. Crowley’s going to have our collective asses when he sees the bad press. I’m done for.”
“Let me handle Crowley. You work on getting a confession.”
He laughs. “And I thought I was the only one at the table who was intoxicated.”
“I’m serious.”
“I don’t think you understand. We’re never going to get to the bottom of this, Pete. You know why? Because there is no bottom.”
“We get the girl to play ball again. We do another Open Wide.”
“With her own brother? Are you insane?”
“Well, we get the doc to play, then,” Pastorini counters, realizing his mistake. “He’s got a vested interest. If you’re going to let him off the hook, at least make him earn it.”
Madden considers that. He’d considered it earlier, when he was sober, and it had seemed like a poor option. And now that he’s drunk, it still seems poor.
“And what? What kind of leverage does he have against the kid?”
“I don’t know,” Pastorini says. “That’s up to you to figure out. All I know is that he sure seemed to do a number on you, so he must have something going for him. Now drink the rest of that and let’s go.”
41/ BART’S JOURNAL
May 15, 2007
To whom it may concern:
Pretty soon I’m going to meet Dr. Cogan at the little park near the Linear Accelerator. I suppose it’s an apt place for our meeting because ever since that night I’ve felt like a particle that’s been split in two and I haven’t been able to quite put myself back together the way I’d like.
Dr. Cogan called me yesterday and said he wanted to meet privately with me. He had something he wanted to show me, which he couldn’t talk about over the phone. I’m not sure what it could be, but it couldn’t be good. But after talking it over with Watkins, we decided I should go meet him, and that if the doc accuses me of anything, I should admit to nothing. Watkins knows the park and suggested