“Good-by, Mike,” she said in a soft voice, and pushed through the swinging doors and walked quickly down the corridor.
Carmody watched her until she turned out of sight. Standing alone, he stared into the dim empty corridor, still seeing in his mind the graceful swing of her legs and the high proud look of her head and shoulders. After a few moments he shook his head and rubbed his forehead and eyes with the back of his good hand. Then he turned and walked slowly into the record room. The door to the lieutenant’s office stood open, and Carmody saw that Wilson was waiting for him, an empty chair pulled up beside his desk.
Carmody wet his lips, suddenly swept by an emotion that he couldn’t define. Part of it was fear, but there was something else, too. For a moment he stood indecisively, staring at the empty chair that waited for him at Wilson’s elbow. Finally, it came to him; this was what he felt as a child when he waited in the line at the confessional. Fear, yes, but something else. And the other thing was the sweeping relief that came from the anticipation of forgiveness.
Smiling slowly, Carmody walked into the lieutenant’s office. “Let’s go,” he said, and eased himself gratefully into the empty chair.
Rogue Cop Page 18
