“Sure,” she said. “It’s in there. Do you know how to use it?”
“I think so,” he said.
“Come on,” she said. “I’ll show you.”
When the fifth sheet was coming out of the Xerox machine, she turned to him.
“What in the world is this?”
“It’s the investigation reports of the Northwest Philadelphia rapes,” Matt said.
“What are you doing with them?” she asked. “Or can’t I ask?”
“I’m working on them,” Matt said, and then the lie became uncomfortable. “My boss told me to get them Xeroxed.”
“Doesn’t the Police Department have a Xerox machine?”
“Ours doesn’t work,” Matt said. “So they sent me down to the Roundhouse to have it done. And since I’d never been in there, I figured it would be easier to come in here.”
“We’ll send the city a bill.” She laughed. And then, after a moment, she asked, “Is that what they have you doing? Administration?”
“Sort of.”
“I didn’t think, with your education, that they’d put you in a prowl car to hand out speeding tickets.”
“What they would like to have done was put me in a paddy wagon, excuse me, EPW, but Denny Coughlin has put his two cents in on my behalf.”
“You don’t sound very happy about that,” she said. Irene Craig had known Matthew Payne virtually all of his life, liked him very much, and shared his father’s opinion that Matt’s becoming a cop ranked high on the list of Dumb Ideas of All Time.
“Ambivalent,” he said, as he started to stack the Xeroxed pages. “On one hand, I am, at least theoretically, opposed to the idea of special treatment. On the other hand—proving, I suppose, that I am not nearly as noble as I like to think I am—I like what I’m doing.”
“Which is?”
“I’m the gofer for a very nice guy, and a very sharp cop, Staff Inspector Peter Wohl.”
“He’s the one who had his picture in the paper? The one they put in charge of this new—”
“Special Operations,” Matt filled in.
“That sounds interesting.”
“It’s fascinating.”
“I’m glad for you,” she said.
Not really, she thought. I would be a lot happier if he was miserable as a cop; then maybe he’d come to his senses and quit. But at least Denny Coughlin is watching out for him; that’s something.
“I like it,” Matt said. “So much I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“Stick around,” she said, laughing. “It will. It always does.”
“Thanks a lot,” Matt said, chuckling.
“You want to see your father?”
“No,” he said, and when he saw the look on her face, quickly added, “I’ve got to get back. He’s probably busy; and I had breakfast with him this morning.”
“Well, I’ll tell him you were in.”