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“What happened?” he asked, tightly.

“He walked up on a holdup,” Denny Coughlin said. “He was shot.”

“Oh, shit!” Matt Payne said. His lips worked, and then he put his arms around his mother.

I don’t know, she thought, whether he’s seeking comfort or trying to give it.

“Goddamn it,” Matt said, letting his mother go.

“I’m sorry, son,” Denny Coughlin said.

“Did they get who did it?” Matt asked. Now, Coughlin saw, he was angry.

“Dutch put the one who shot him down,” Coughlin said. “The other one got away. They’ll find him, Matt.”

“Did he kill the one who shot him?” Matt asked.

“Yes,” Coughlin said. “It was a woman, Matt, a girl.”

“Jesus!”

“We’re going to see your aunt Jean,” Patricia Payne said. “I thought you might want to come along.”

“Let me get a coat and tie,” he said, and then, “Jesus! The kids!”

“It’s a bitch, all right,” Coughlin said.

Matt turned and went up the stairway, taking the steps two at a time.

“He’s a nice boy,” Denny Coughlin said.

“He’s about to go off to that damned war,” Patricia Payne said.

“What would you rather, Patty? That he go to Canada and dodge the draft?”

“But as a marine. “

“I wouldn’t worry about him; that boy can take care of himself,” Coughlin said.

“Like Dutch, right? Like his father?”

“Come on, Patty,” Coughlin said, and put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her.

“Oh, hell, Denny,” Patricia Payne said.

When Matt Payne came down the stairs, he was wearing a gray flannel suit.

Denny’s right, Patricia Payne thought, he looks just like Johnny.

They went down the stairs. Matt got behind the wheel of the Mercury station wagon.

“It must be nice to be a cop,” Matt said. “Park where you damned well please. A guy in the house stopped here last week, left the motor running, ran in to get some books. By the time he came out, the tow truck was hauling his car off. Cost him forty bucks for the tow truck, after he’d paid a twenty-five-dollar fine for double parking.”

She looked at him, but didn’t reply.

The Oldsmobile moved off.

“Here we go,” Matt said, as he stepped on the accelerator. “Want to bet whether or not we break the speed limit?”