The Lion (jc-5) by Nelson DeMille

Author:Nelson DeMille [DeMille, Nelson]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: det_political

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Tom Walsh didn't comment on my lateness or on the fact that George Foster was not there. I also noticed that Paresi had gotten rid of my Khalil folder.

Walsh looked at me and said, "John, let me begin by saying that you've done an outstanding job on this case, and we appreciate your dedication to duty, especially in light of Kate's serious injuries, and the stress"-stress on the stress-"that you've been under-"

"Thank you."

He continued, "After thinking about this situation, and after consulting with Captain Paresi, I strongly suggest that you ask for traumatic leave so that you can be with your wife during her convalescence."

I didn't respond.

He sweetened the deal by saying, "This will be paid leave, of course."

I asked, "How long?"

"Thirty days." He added, "Maybe longer."

I informed him, "This will all be over within a week."

He didn't comment on that prediction, and he continued, "I would advise you to stay in your apartment, except for necessary errands and such."

"Can I see a Yankees game?"

"No." He went on, "You'll have ample time at home to write your incident report and to write me a confidential memo regarding everything you know about Asad Khalil and about what happened three years ago."

I glanced at Paresi, fully expecting him to say to Walsh, "Tom, I have a whole folder that John just gave me on that very subject. Let me make a copy for you."

But Captain Paresi did not say that. In fact, Captain Paresi had been screwed so many times by the FBI that he was keeping this to himself. Why share information? No one else does. Paresi's fantasy, of course, was that he and his detectives-sans Detective Corey-would find Asad Khalil without help from the FBI. Competition is good. We're not socialists. And we're really not team players. We're individualists. We're Americans. We're cowboys.

"John?"

I looked at Walsh.

"I said I'd like that report and memo within seventy-two hours."

I had the urge to tell him that seventy-two hours from now, we could all be dead. Then I wouldn't have to write the stupid incident report or the stupid memo. I said, however, "No problem."

He assured me, "Your request for leave will have no negative impact on your career, and nothing of a negative nature will be inferred from your request to be with your wife."

This was getting a little tedious, not to mention silly. I mean, I had no career here. I had a contract. And someday I was going to read it and see what I had to do to get out of here.

By my silence, Walsh may have thought I was wavering or that I didn't believe him about what he'd just said, so he also said, "I will place a letter of commendation in your file thanking you for your service in general, and your outstanding work on this case."

Paresi, in a rehearsed remark, added, "I will do the same."

Thanks, Judas. It seemed that the less I said, the more I got. If I could keep my mouth shut for ten minutes, I'd get a free cab ride home and a MetroCard.

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