Hayward, too, seemed uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Her face looked clouded, conflicted. She opened her handbag, fumbled in it a moment, closed it, tucked it under her arm. They stood there another moment in silence as police officers, technicians, and court personnel passed by.
“Are you here to give a statement?” D’Agosta finally asked.
“No. I gave my deposition over a month ago.”
“Nothing more to say, then?”
“No.”
A peculiar thrill went through D’Agosta as he realized the implications of this. So she’s kept quiet about my role in the Herkmoor breakout, he thought. She hasn’t told anybody.
“I got a call from an acquaintance in the Justice Department,” she said. “The word’s just come down. As far as the feds are concerned, Special Agent Pendergast has been formally cleared of all charges. Homicide’s officially reopened the case on our end, and it looks as though we’re going to drop all charges against him, too. Based on evidence retrieved from Diogenes Pendergast’s valise, fresh warrants have been issued for Diogenes. Thought you’d want to know.”
D’Agosta slumped with relief. “Thank God. So he’s completely cleared.”
“Of criminal charges, yes. But it’s safe to say he hasn’t made any new friends in the Bureau.”
“Popularity never was Pendergast’s strong suit.”
Hayward smiled faintly. “He’s been given a six-month leave. Whether requested by him or demanded by the Bureau, I don’t know.”
D’Agosta shook his head.
“I thought you might also like to hear about Special Agent Spencer Coffey.”
“Oh?”
“In addition to royally screwing up the Pendergast case, he got embroiled in some kind of scandal at Herkmoor. Seems he was busted down to GS-11 and had a notice of censure placed in his jacket. They’ve reassigned him to the North Dakota field office in Black Rock.”
“He’s gonna need a new pair of long underwear,” D’Agosta said.
Hayward smiled, and an awkward silence settled over them again.
The deputy commissioner of trials approached them from the elevator bank, along with the department special prosecutor. They passed by D’Agosta and Hayward, nodding distantly, then turned and proceeded into the courtroom.
“With Pendergast cleared, you should be, too,” Hayward said.
D’Agosta looked down at his hands. “It’s a different bureaucracy.”
“Yes, but when—”
Abruptly she stopped. D’Agosta looked up to see Glen Singleton walking down the hall, immaculately dressed as usual. Captain Singleton was officially still D’Agosta’s boss and was there, no doubt, to testify. When he saw Hayward, he paused in surprise.
“Captain Hayward,” he said stiffly. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to watch the proceedings,” she replied.
Singleton frowned. “A disciplinary hearing is not a spectator sport.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“You’ve already been deposed. Your showing up here in person, without being called to provide fresh information, may imply…” Singleton hesitated.
D’Agosta flushed at the insinuation. He stole a glance at Hayward and was surprised by what he saw. The cloudiness had left her face, and she suddenly looked calm. It was as if, after struggling for a long time, she had reached some private decision.
“Yes?” she asked mildly.
“Might imply a lack of impartiality on your part.”
“Why, Glen,” Hayward said, “don’t you wish the best for Vinnie, here?”
Now it was Singleton’s turn to color. “Of course. Of course I do. In fact, that’s why I’m here—to bring to the attention of the prosecutor certain new developments that have recently come to our attention. It’s just that we wouldn’t want any hint of any improper… well, influence.”
“Too late,” she replied briskly. “I’ve already been influenced.”
And then—very deliberately—she clasped D’Agosta’s hand in her own.
Singleton stared at them for a moment. He opened his mouth, closed it again, at a loss for words. Finally he gave D’Agosta a sudden smile and laid a hand on his shoulder. “See you in court, Lieutenant,” he said, giving the word lieutenant special emphasis. Then he turned and was gone.
“What was that supposed to mean?” D’Agosta asked.
“If I know Glen, I’d say you’ve got a friend in court.”
D’Agosta felt his heart accelerate again. Despite the imminent ordeal, he suddenly felt absurdly happy. It was as if a great weight had just been lifted from him: a weight he hadn’t even been fully conscious he was carrying.