Gone Tomorrow

you?”
    “They came for me first. I’ve been here since noon. Watching you sleep.”
    “Any word from Peter?”
    “Nothing.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “You snore, you know that?”
    “I was full of gorilla tranquillizer. From a dart gun.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    I showed him the bloodstain on my pants, and then the one on my shoulder.
    “That’s insane,” he said.
    “Were you at work?”
    He nodded. “The dispatcher called my car back to base, and they were waiting for me.”
    “So your department knows where you are?”
    “Not specifically,” he said. “But they know who took me away.”
    “That’s something,” I said.
    “Not really,” he said. “The department won’t do anything for me. Guys like these come for you, suddenly you’re tainted. You’re presumed guilty of something. People were already inching away from me.”
    Lee said, “Like when Internal Affairs comes calling.”
    I asked her, “Why isn’t Docherty here?”
    “He knows less than me. In fact he went out of his way to know less than me. Didn’t you notice that? He’s an old hand.”
    “He’s your partner.”
    “Today he is. By next week he’ll have forgotten he ever had a partner. You know how these things work.”
    Jake said, “There are only three cells here. Maybe Docherty is somewhere else.”
    I asked, “Have these guys talked to you yet?”
    Both of them shook their heads.
    I asked, “Are you worried?”
    Both of them nodded. Lee asked, “Are you?”
    “I’m sleeping well,” I said. “But I think that’s mostly because of the tranquillizers.”
    At six-thirty they brought us food. Deli sandwiches, in plastic clamshell packs that were turned sideways and pushed through the bars. Plus bottles of water. I drank my water first and refilled the bottle from the tap. My sandwich was salami and cheese. Finest meal I ever ate.
    At seven o’clock they took Jacob Mark away for questioning. No restraints. No chains. Theresa Lee and I sat on our cots, about eight feet apart, separated by bars. We didn’t talk much. Lee seemed depressed. At one point she said, “I lost some good friends when the towers came down. Not just cops. Firefighters, too. People that I had worked with. People that I had known for years.” She said it as if she thought those truths should insulate her from the craziness that came afterward. I didn’t answer her. Mostly I sat quiet and reran conversations in my head. All kinds of people had been talking at me. For hours. John Sansom, Lila Hoth, the guys in the next room. I was running through what they had all said, the same way a cabinet maker runs his palm over a length of planed wood, looking for the rough spots. There were a few. There were strange half-comments, odd nuances, little off-key implications. I didn’t know what any of them meant. Not then. But knowing that they were there was useful in itself.
    At seven-thirty they brought Jacob Mark back and took Theresa Lee away in his place. No restraints. No chains. Jake got on his cot and sat cross-legged with his back to the camera. I looked at him. An inquiry. He gave a millimetric shrug and rolled his eyes. Then he kept his hands in his lap, out of sight of the camera, and made a gun with his right thumb and forefinger. He tapped his thigh and looked at mine. I nodded. The dart gun. He put two fingers down between his knees and held a third in front and to the left. I nodded again. Two guys behind the table, and the third to the left with the gun. Probably in the doorway to the third room. On guard. Hence no restraints and no chains. I massaged my temples and while my hands were still up I mouthed, “Where are our shoes?” Jake mouthed back, “I don’t know.”
    After that we sat in silence. I didn’t know what Jake was thinking about. His sister, probably. Or Peter. I was considering a binary choice. There are two ways to fight something. From the inside, or from the outside. I was an outside type of guy. Always had been.
    At eight o’clock they brought Theresa Lee back and took me away again.

Chapter 45
    No restraints. No chains . Clearly they thought I was afraid of the dart gun. Which I was, to a degree. Not because I fear small puncture wounds. And not because I have anything against sleep, in and of itself. I like sleep as much as the next guy. But I didn’t want to waste any more time. I felt like I couldn’t afford another eight hours on my back.
    The room was populated exactly as Jacob Mark had semaphored it.