sounded farther away. The people seemed small, and sort of vignetted, like I was looking at them through the wrong end of a telescope. I told myself, ‘You lazy bastard, you're just letting it happen.’ But there was nothing I could do. I thought, what a lousy way to go, in a hallway that smells like piss, with these assholes geeking me. Then it all fuzzed out.”

     “You believed you were dying.”

     “Oh, I knew. I knew. At that moment. I knew I was a dead man.”

     Gilsa brought me in after I got back from lunch. Precy had named a lawyer to represent her in all matters concerning the claim. She declined to meet investigators. She demanded full and immediate payment of benefits.

     “We can't talk to her,” Gilsa said. “But we can still keep track of her.”

     I went out. Down the hall, by the reception desk, I noticed Collins waiting at the elevator. He looked and saw me. He leered and made a motion with both hands, like turning shower knobs.

     He mouthed the word: “Mangoes.”

     “You were good at your job,” the psychotherapist said.

     “I thought so. I was.”

     “You made detective after eight years.”

     “Seven and a cup of coffee.”

     “You liked the job. It gave you satisfaction.”

     “It wasn't just any job. I felt like I was making a little bit of difference.”

     “You were in the prime of your career. You had the knowledge and experience of a veteran, while still retaining a young man's energy. That's a magic time.”

     “It is pretty good when that happens,” I said.

     “And then you were shot.”