Leland drew his breath. He did not like being played off by someone he did not really know anymore. He had an opinion; he could explain it and soothe the injured feelings, but he did not have the desire.

“Don’t fool around, Pop. Book him for homicide.”

“That’s what I was going to do,” Captain Leland said. He took a look at his son. Whatever he wanted to say would have to be understood. “I have a call to make,” he said. “Lieutenant, you’re the arresting officer. Joe, don’t go downstairs without me.” He went down the corridor to his office.

“You didn’t hurt me,” Schoenstein said, “but you didn’t help me, either.”

“It’s not an issue of personalities. I don’t know why you’re willing to stick your hand in the fire for those people.”

“Didn’t you, six years ago?”

“I had the book in my back pocket. I went strictly by the book.”

“You don’t have to live with these people,” Schoenstein said. “Neither does your father—he’s invulnerable, in case you don’t know it.”

“I know.”

“Well, I’m eligible for the Captain’s test myself next year. Where do you think I’ll be assigned if there’s any discomfort today? You don’t have to worry about that. What the hell do you care, anyway? You can fly away from it.”

“Go slow, Dave.”

“Ah, let me pass. I have work to do.”

Leland did not want to go back to his father’s office. He waited at the end of the corridor until the squad room cleared. Two men were on duty. On any other day he would want to laugh at what Schoenstein had said and done, but today it made him tired. He did not want to call Norma yet. There was nothing he wanted to do, in fact, but wait.

Captain Leland opened the door and signaled him. He had telephoned headquarters and there had been no arguments. There was a hot plate in the office, he said, if a trespasser wanted coffee.

When they had their coats off Leland told his father what had been said in the corridor after he had gone. “This was a bright kid. He was quick and eager to learn. I worked with him for two years and he never pulled anything like this.”

Captain Leland shrugged. “What did you do today?”

Leland told him that he had interviewed MacIver’s first wife.

“You’re all over the place. You get paid for this?”

“In a way it’s like a premarital investigation. I don’t feel that I’m wasting the lady’s money.”

“How old is Schoenstein—thirty-one? He doesn’t have any excuses. This is a pressure job. If he doesn’t like it, he should get out.”