When the mayor decided the time had come, what they were going to do in good ol' Augie Wohl's recreation room this afternoon was decide how they were going to clean up the Narcotics Unit, and how to do it right, so that nobody dirty would get to walk because some goddamned defense lawyer caught them with an i they hadn't dotted, or a t they'd forgotten to cross.
He went in without knocking, and walked to the kitchen to kiss his mother.
There were six wives in the kitchen, dealing with the food: Chief Lowenstein's comfortably plump wife, Sarah; Angeline "Angie" Carlucci, the slight, almost delicate woman who was said to be the only human being of whom Mayor Carlucci lived in fear; Mike Weisbach's Natalie, a younger version of Sarah Lowenstein; Mike Sabara's Helen, a striking woman with luxuriant red hair; Jack Fellows 's Beverly, a tall, slim woman who was an operating-room nurse at Temple Hospital; and Peter's mother.
Peter wondered tangentially how Martha Peebles-once she became Mrs. Captain David Pekach-was going to fit in with her fellow officer's wives. She would try, of course-she was absolutely bananas about her "Precious "-but her experience with feeding people was limited to telling her butler how many people would be coming to dinner, when, and what she would like to have them fed.
For that matter, he absolutely could not imagine Amy Payne in a kitchen, stirring spaghetti sauce, either.
Mrs. Carlucci and Mrs. Lowenstein insisted on their right, as women who had known him since he wore diapers, to kiss him.
"Your father and everybody's downstairs," his mother said.
"Really?" Peter replied, as if that was surprising.
"He's always been a smarty-pants," his mother said.
"Yes, he has," Sarah Lowenstein agreed. "But his time is coming."
"How's that?" Peter asked.
"There's a young lady out there-you just haven't bumped into each other yet-who will change you."
"And any change would be an improvement, right?"
"You took the words out of my mouth."
Peter smiled at her and went down the narrow steps into the basement.
He made his manners first with Mayor Carlucci, a tall, large-boned, heavyset fifty-three-year-old with dark intelligent eyes and a full head of brown hair brushed close to his scalp.
"Mr. Mayor," he said.
"I like your suit, Peter," Carlucci said, and tried to crush Peter's hand with his.
He failed.
"You're stronger than you look," the mayor said.
"Thank you, sir."
"Smarter, too," Peter's father said, draping an arm around his shoulders.
Peter shook hands with the others, then made himself a drink.
The trip down memory lane started. Peter didn't pay much attention. He had heard all the stories at least twice before. He sensed that both Mikes, Weisbach and Sabara, were slightly ill at ease.
Sabara's uncomfortable, probably, Peter thought, because he's here and Dave Pekach isn't. And Weisbach is legitimately worried about how much of this Five Squad investigation is going to be placed on his shoulders.
The conference vis-fnbsp;-vis the investigation of allegations of corruption within the Narcotics Unit began when everyone declined another piece of cake, whereupon Mrs. Wohl announced that she would put another pot of coffee on and leave them alone.
"Peter, you help carry the heavy things upstairs," she ordered.
In three minutes, the Ping-Pong table pressed into service as a buffet table and all the folding tables were cleared and put away.
"I always like a second cup of coffee to settle my stomach, " Mayor Carlucci announced.
Lieutenant Fellows quickly served him one.
"Don't mind me," the mayor said. "If anyone wants something harder than coffee, help yourselves."
Chiefs Coughlin and Lowenstein went to the refrigerator and helped themselves to bottles of Neuweiler's ale. The others poured coffee. The pot ran dry.
Lieutenant Fellows went upstairs to see how the fresh pot was coming.
"I talked to Jason Washington about this," the mayor began. "Maybe I should have asked Augie to have him here for this. Anyway, Washington told me he believes Officer Kellog's widow believes what she told him about the whole Five Squad being dirty. No disrespect to Captain Pekach intended-he's a fine officer-but despite what he says about if there was something dirty going in Narcotics he would have known about it, I don't think we can ignore what the widow said. Now, what else have we got?"
"The threatening telephone call," Peter Wohl said. "I believe that Mrs. Milham-"
"Mrs. Milham?" Mayor Carlucci interrupted.
"She and Wally Milham went to Maryland and got married, Mr. Mayor," Peter said. "I thought you knew."
"Now that you mention it… go ahead, Peter."
"I believe there was such a call," Peter said. "And so does Wally Milham."
"He would have to believe it, wouldn't you say, Peter? I mean, after all, he was slipping the salami to her before her husband was murdered."
"Wally Milham is a good cop, Mr. Mayor," Peter said.
The mayor looked at him for a long moment without expression.
"Tell me about the tapes," the mayor said finally.
"They're in the process of being transcribed," Peter said.
"Still? Christ, you've had them for a week."
"The tapes were damaged by fire, Mr. Mayor," Peter said. "They're very hard to transcribe."
"Get somebody good to do it. Somebody smart and fast."
"Detective Payne is transcribing them," Wohl said.
"And working hard at it, sir. Like last night at midnight, " Mike Sabara interjected. "I listened to a little of them…"
"Did you?" the mayor asked, not pleasantly.
"I was surprised he's able to get anything off them at all," Sabara said.
"So they're useless?" the mayor said.
"No, sir," Peter Wohl said. "Both Payne and Sergeant Washington, who has read what Payne has transcribed so far, believe there will be something useful in them when we're finished. "
"The point I'm trying to make, Peter, and I'm not just trying to give you a hard time, is that we really don't have anything, except accusations made by a Five Squad wife who wasn't sleeping with her own husband," Carlucci said. "Against which, we have the opinion of a damned good cop who used to work Narcotics and says if there was anything wrong, he would have known about it."
No one replied.
The mayor looked at Chief Inspector Dennis V. Coughlin.
"You think we'd be spinning our wheels on this one, Denny?"
"It may turn out that way, but I think we have to do it," Chief Coughlin said.
"Matt?" the mayor asked, turning his head to Chief Inspector Matthew Lowenstein.
"I agree with Denny," Lowenstein said, looking at the butt of his cigar.
"You think we should go ahead, in other words?"
"Yeah, Jerry, I do."
"You don't seem very happy about it."
"No, I'm not. For one thing, if we find dirty cops in Five Squad, the whole department looks bad. Internally, so does Internal Affairs because we dug it out, not them. Let's say you give this to Peter-"
"I'm thinking of suggesting to the commissioner that it be given to Ethical Affairs."
"Same thing. Nothing personal, Mike," Lowenstein said, looking at Staff Inspector Weisbach, "but you can't do it without Peter's help, which, the way I see it, puts Peter in charge."
"And since Peter-nothing personal, Peter-" the mayor said, "can't do it without the help of the chief inspector of detectives, the way you see it, does that put you in charge?"
"Come on, Jerry."
"Or without the help of Chief Coughlin, does that put Denny in charge?"
"What are you driving at, Jerry?" Coughlin asked "That you want me, or Matt, to take this?"