Madden is standing there with a white paper bag in his hand, which looks a lot like the same bag Richie’s breakfast came in. “Congrats, Forman, you made bail.” “No shit,” he says getting up from the bench. “You seem surprised.” “I was expecting lunch. This is better.” Madden sets the bag down on the bench. “We got it for you. You might as well take it to go.” Madden uncuffs him, then leads him down the hall, where a small group of officers and detectives is mingling around a common area, waiting for him while trying not to look like they’re waiting for him. The commander, Pastorini, who he spoke to briefly yesterday, is among the officers. “Getting the royal send-off, am I?” Richie says, addressing the group. “You’ll be happy to know I filled out the feedback form in the cell. Personable staff.
