Matt pushed the button and the window of the Porsche whooshed down.
"I'm a Three Six Nine," he said to the ACT cop. "I work for Inspector Wohl."
The cop waved him through, and Matt turned into the parking lot and found a place to park the car.
As he walked across the snow, which crunched under his shoes, toward them, he was aware that they were looking at him. He decided that there was a good chance that Wohl would be sore he had come here.
"Good morning," Matt said.
Wohl looked at him a good thirty seconds before speaking, then said, "There's a thermos of coffee in the stakeout van, if you'd like some."
"Thank you," Matt said.
When he came back out of the van, Mickey O'Hara was standing with the others.
"You know Officer Payne of the Building Measuring Detail, don't you, Mickey?" Wohl asked, straight-faced.
"Whaddaya say, Payne?" Mickey said. "Relax, I'm not going to play straight man to your boss."
A lieutenant whose name Matt could not recall walked up and with surprising formality saluted.
"Everything's in place, Inspector," he said.
Matt was pleased to see that Wohl was somewhat discomfited by the lieutenant's salute, visibly torn between returning it, like an officer returning a soldier's salute, or not.
"You check with West Philly?" Wohl asked after a moment, making a vague gesture toward his tweed cap that could have been a salute, but did not have to be.
"Yes, sir. Two cars, a sergeant, a stakeout truck, and a van."
"Can you make it over there in thirty"-looking at his watch-"seven minutes?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, you-" Wohl interrupted himself. Captain Pekach, in full Highway uniform, walked up. The lieutenant saluted again. Pekach, although he looked a little surprised, returned it.
"Good morning," Pekach said.
Wohl ignored him.
"Lieutenant, when did you get out of the Army?" he asked.
"I've been back about four months, sir."
"What were you?"
"I had a platoon in the First Cavalry, sir."
"That worries me," Wohl said. "Let me tell you why. We are policemen, not soldiers. We are going to arrest some smalltime robbers, not assault a Vietcong village. I'm a little worried that you don't understand that. I don't want any shooting, unless lives are in danger. I would rather that one or two of these scumbags get away-we can get them later-than to have anybody start shooting the place up. Did Captain Sabara make sure you understood that?"
"Yes, sir. I understand."
"I am about to promulgate a new edict," Wohl said. "Henceforth, no one will salute the commanding officer of Special Operations unless he happens to be in a uniform."
"Yes, sir," the lieutenant said. "I'm sorry, Inspector. I didn't know the ground rules."
"Go and sin no more," Wohl said with a smile, touching his arm. "Take over in West Philly. Get going at five o'clock, presuming you think they're ready."
"Yes, sir," the lieutenant said.
He walked away.
"Good morning, David," Wohl said to Pekach. "Captain Sabara and myself are touched that you would get out of your warm bed to be with us here."
"I figured maybe I could help," Pekach said.
"You and Officer Payne," Wohl said dryly. He looked at his watch. "Hhour in thirty-five minutes, men," he added in a credible mimicry of John Wayne.
"What happens at H-hour, General?" Mickey O'Hara asked.
"We know the whereabouts, as of fifteen minutes ago, of all eight of the people who stuck up Goldblatt's and murdered the maintenance man-"
"Ah, the Islamic Liberation Army," Mickey interrupted, "I thought that's what this probably was."
"The eight suspects in the felonies committed at Goldblatt's is what I said, Mr. O'Hara," Wohl said. "I didn't say anything about any army, liberation or otherwise."
"Pardon me all to death, Inspector, sir, I should have picked up on that."
"As I was saying," Wohl went on. "Shortly after five, the officers you see gathered here will assist detectives of the Homicide Bureau in serving warrants and taking the suspects into custody. Simultaneously. Or as nearly simultaneously as we can manage."
"I would have expected Highway," Mickey said.
"You are getting the ACT officers of Special Operations," Wohl said.
"How exactly are you going to do the arrests?" Mickey asked. "It looks like an army around here."
"Seven of the eight suspects are known to be in this area, in other words, around Frankford Avenue. One of them is in West Philly. Two ACT cars, each carrying two officers, will go to the various addresses. There will be a sergeant at each address, plus, of course, the Homicide detective who has been keeping the suspects under surveillance. We anticipate no difficulty in making the arrests. But, just to be sure, there are, under the control of a lieutenant, stakeout vans available. One per two sergeants, plus one more in West Philly. Plus four wagons, three here and one in West Philly."
"Okay," Mickey said.
"At Captain Sabara's suggestion," Wohl went on, "when the arrests have been made, the suspect will be taken out the back of his residence, rather than out the front door. There he will be loaded into a van and taken to Homicide."
"Instead of out the front door, where there might be angry citizens enraged that these devout Muslims are being dragged out of their beds by honky infidels?"
"You got it, Mickey," Wohl said. "What do you think?"
"I think Lowenstein thinks you were going to use Highway," Mickey said.
"Chief Lowenstein does not run Special Operations," Wohl replied.
"May I quote you?"
"I wish you wouldn't," Wohl said. "If you need a quote, how about quoting me as saying these suspects have no connection with the fine, law-abiding Islamic community of Philadelphia."
Mickey O'Hara snorted.
"Where do you think I might find something interesting?" O'Hara asked.
"One of the suspects is a fellow named Charles D. Stevens," Wohl said. "Word has reached me that he sometimes uses the alias Abu Ben Mohammed. Rumor has it that he fancies himself to be the Robin Hood of this merry band of bandits. Perhaps you might find that a photograph of Mr. Stevens, in handcuffs and under arrest, would be of interest to your readers."
"Okay, Peter," Mickey chuckled. "Thank you. Who do I go with?"
"Officer Payne," Wohl said, "please take Mr. O'Hara to Lieutenant Suffern. Tell him that I have given permission for you and Mr. O'Hara to accompany his team during the arrest of Mr. Stevens."
"Yes, sir," Matt said.
"You will insure that Mr. O'Hara in no way endangers his own life. In other words, he is not, repeat not, to enter the building in which we believe Mr. Stevens to be until Mr. Stevens is under arrest."
"Ah, for Christ's sake, Peter!" O'Hara protested.
"You listened carefully, didn't you, Officer Payne, to what I just said?"
"Yes, sir."
"If necessary, you will sit on Mr. O'Hara. Clear?"
"Yes, sir."
Lieutenant Ed Suffern, a very large, just short of fat, ruddy-faced man, pushed himself off the fender of his car when he saw Mickey O' Hara and Matt Payne walking up.
"How are you, Mickey?" he said, smiling, offering his hand, obviously pleased to see him. "I'm a little surprised to see you."
"Officially, I just happened to be in the neighborhood."
"Yeah," Suffern said, chuckling. "Sure."
"Got a small problem, Ed," O'Hara said. "How am I going to get to see you catching-whatsisname?-Abu Ben Mohammedwith Matt Payne sitting on my shoulders?"