"That's what Northwest Detectives has on the Northwest Philly rapist," he said.
"They found the woman he forced into the van?"
"No. Not yet."
"I'll say the obvious, Inspector," Quaire said, tapping the folder with his fingertips but not opening it. "Rape, sexual assault, is none of Homicide's business. What are you showing this to me for?"
"The Northwest Philadelphia rapist is now my business, Henry," Wohl said.
"Okay. But still, why are you showing this to me?"
"I don't think we're going to find that woman alive," Wohl said.
"Then it will be my business," Quaire said. "But not until."
"No. It will still be my business," Wohl said.
Quaire's eyebrows rose.
"Not that it's any of my business, but how did that sit with Chief Lowenstein when he heard that? Or has he?"
Chief Inspector Matt Lowenstein, under whom Homicide operated, was notoriously unsympathetic to what he considered invasions of his territory.
"I devoutly hope he knows it wasn't my idea," Wohl said. "But he's been told."
"What are you asking for, Inspector?" Quaire asked. "That if this abduction turns into homicide, that I assign Washington and Harris? Frankly, I don't like being told how to run my shop."
"No, I want them transferred to Special Operations, now," Peter said.
Quaire considered that for a moment.
"I was about to say no," he said, finally, "but you've already told me I can't, haven't you?"
"Why don't you call Lowenstein?" Wohl said.
"I believe you, Peter, for Christ's sake," Quaire said.
"Thank you," Wohl said. "But maybe Lowenstein would like to think he' s not the only one pissed off about this."
Quaire looked at him a moment, and then grunted.
He dialed a number from memory and told Chief Inspector Lowenstein that Staff Inspector Wohl was in his office, saying he wanted Detectives Washington and Harris transferred to Special Operations.
The reply was brief, and then Captain Quaire put the handset back in its cradle without saying good-bye.
"That was quick," Peter said with a smile. "What did he say?"
"You don't want to know," Quaire said.
"Yeah, I do."
"Okay," Quaire said, with a strange smile. "'Give the little bastard whatever he wants, and tell him I said I hope he hangs himself.' End quote."
"That's all? He must be in a very good mood today," Wohl said, smiling. But it's not funny. Lowenstein is, understandably, angry, and if he thinks I'm abusing the authority Czernick and Coughlin gave me, I'll pay for it. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next year, but sometime.
"So when would you like Detectives Washington and Harris?" Quaire asked.
"Now."
"You mean today?" Quaire asked, incredulously.
"Yeah, and if they could keep their cars for a couple of days, until I can get cars for them, I'd appreciate it."
Quaire thought that over for a moment.
"Inspector, I'm short of cars. If youtell me to let them keep their cars, I will, but-"
"Okay. I'll work something out with the cars," Wohl said. "But I want them today."
"They're working the streets," Quaire said. "I'll get word to them to come in here. And then I'll send them out to you. Where are you, in Highway?"
"Yeah. Henry, there is a chance we can do something before that woman is… before the abduction turns into a homicide. That's why I need them now."
"What you're saying is that you don't like the way Northwest Detectives are handling the job," Quaire said.
Now it was Wohl's turn to consider his reply.
"I hadn't thought about it quite that way, Henry. But yeah, I guess I am. The Northwest Philly rapist is out there somewhere; Northwest Detectives doesn't seem to have been able to catch him. Look at the file-nothing."
Quaire pushed the file across the desk to Wohl.
"I don't want to look at that file, Inspector," he said. "It's none of my business."
Wohl bit off the angry reply that popped into his mind before it reached his mouth. He picked up the file and stood up.
"Thank you, Captain," he said.
"Yes, sir," Captain Quaire said.
In the elevator on the way down to the lobby, Peter's stomach growled, and then there was actually pain.
I didn't have any breakfast, that's what it is.
And then he realized that his having skipped breakfast because he didn't want to be late his first morning on his new command had nothing to do with it.
He thought of a sandwich shop not far from the Roundhouse where he could get an egg sandwich or something and a half pint of milk. But when he walked out of the rear door of the Roundhouse, he saw a Highway Patrol car coming out of the Central Lockup ramp.
He trotted over to it, tapped on the closed window, and told the surprised driver to take him to Highway.
As Peter got out of the Highway car, out of the corner of his eye he saw another unmarked car, Sabara's, pull into the parking lot. The driver was Matt Payne. He looked around the parking lot and saw that his car, now wearing another shortwave antenna, was in the parking spot marked INSPECTOR.
He waited until Payne found a spot to park Sabara's car and then walked to the building.
"Payne!"
Payne looked around and saw him, and walked over.
"Yes, sir?"
"You got radios in the cars?"
"Yes, sir."
"That was quick," Wohl thought aloud.
"Well, there really wasn't much to it," Payne said. "Just screw the mounting to the transmission tunnel, install the antenna, and make a couple of connections."
"Come on in the office," Wohl said. "I want to talk to you."
"Yes, sir," Payne said.
Wohl had a quick mental picture of himself having a short chat in his office, to feel the boy out, to get a better picture of him to see what he could do with him.
As soon as he got in the building, he saw that would be impossible. All the folding chairs were occupied. Some of the occupants were in uniform, and he didn't have to be Sherlock Holmes to decide that the ones in plainclothes were policemen, too.
Sabara had gotten right to work, he decided. These people appeared to be looking for a job.
Sergeant Frizell immediately confirmed this: "Captain Sabara is interviewing applicants in there, sir," he said.
"Wait here a minute, Payne," Wohl said.
"Inspector," Payne said, as Wohl put his hand on the office doorknob, and Wohl looked at him. "Captain Sabara's keys, sir," Payne said, handing them to him.
"Thank you," Wohl said. He took the keys and went inside.
Sabara was behind the desk, with a personnel folder spread out before him. A uniformed cop sat nervously on the edge of a straight-backed chair facing the desk. Sabara started to get up, and Wohl waved him back.
There was something about the uniformed cop Wohl instinctively disliked. He had a weak face, Wohl decided. He wondered how he knew. Or if he knew.
"This is Inspector Wohl," Sabara said, and the cop jumped to his feet and put out his hand.
"How do you do, sir?" the cop said.
Confident that the cop couldn't see him, Sabara made a wry face, and then shook his head, confirming Wohl's own snap judgment that this cop was something less than they desired.
Why am I surprised? When there is a call for volunteers, ninety percent of the applicants are sure to be people unhappy with their present assignment, and, as a general rule of thumb people are unhappy with their jobs because they are either lazy or can't cut the mustard.
"Here's your keys, Mike," Wohl said.
"So quick?" Sabara asked.
Before Wohl could reply, one of the phones rang and Sabara picked it up.
"Yes?" he said, and listened briefly, and then covered the receiver with his hand. "Detective Washington for you, sir."
Wohl took the telephone.