Ortega stood and brushed salt from his fingers.

“Get a lawyer, Sergeant.”

He went back inside.

I stayed on the bench until the cold worked through my coat.

Then I walked to the middle of the courtyard and stood straight in my army coat on the freezing pavement.

I looked up at the fourth-floor window and counted the minutes until ten thirty.

Dr.

Ortega came at ten thirty with a penlight and a clipboard.