“Arne,” Sjoberg interrupted, “please sit down. And close the door, would you?”

A cautious Sanderson did both. “Is something wrong?” he asked. “Is it Elmander? Has he taken a turn for the worse?”

“No, no,” Sjoberg said, “nothing like that. He’s stable.”

“I’m told it might have been serious the way he was bleeding. It was a damned good decision that dispatcher made to scramble EMTs along with the uniformed backup. She should be put up for a citation, if you ask me.”

Sjoberg said nothing.

Sanderson asked again, “What’s wrong? Have I botched something up?”

Sjoberg reached into his desk and pulled out a mobile phone. Sanderson’s mobile phone.

“Thank God! I’ve been looking for that all morning. Where on earth was it?”

“In the unmarked department car you were using yesterday.”

Sanderson reached out and took his phone.

“An officer found it this morning,” said Sjoberg. “It was in the ashtray.”

Sanderson pocketed his phone and said, “Silly of me—that’s where I keep it in my car.”

“But it wasn’t your car.”

Sanderson didn’t like the trajectory of the conversation. “What are you trying to say?”

“I think you know.”

“You can take that idea and—” he squelched the words rising in his throat, words sure to earn a reprimand.

“Friday I took a call from Dr. Samuels, Arne. Your preliminary evaluation was inconclusive, and he feels he must follow up. Unfortunately, you haven’t done your part.”

A silent Sanderson watched Sjoberg steel himself with a deep breath.

“I’m afraid my hands are tied. You’re off the case, effective immediately.”

“What?”

“I’ve booked you in with Samuels tomorrow morning—nine o’clock sharp.”

Sanderson was incredulous. It had all started this summer with a regular physical examination. Sanderson had mentioned that he’d seemed forgetful lately, and the department physician began asking questions. His interest came acute on learning that Sanderson’s mother had suffered from early-onset Alzheimer’s. Now it had come to this. A few misplaced bills had snowballed into a false crisis.

“First of all,” Sanderson insisted, “I would expect a little privacy when it comes to consultations with my doctor. Second, what gives you the right to—”

“To what? To reschedule your Alzheimer’s evaluation because you forgot about another appointment?”

Sanderson shot from his chair. “I did not forget! I was called unexpectedly into court to give evidence!”

Sjoberg stood and met him face to face. “Do you know why your mobile was found earlier? It was ringing. Ringing because Sergeant Elmander, who is now in the hospital, called you to ask for instructions. The man he was tailing on your orders engaged in a conversation with a suspicious character, and Elmander wanted advice on how to proceed. He needed to talk to his superior, and his superior was nowhere to be found!”