The Assassin Part 13

Not like you, Peter, the inference had been. the inference had been. You're not really all that smart, you're just good at taking examinations. You're not really all that smart, you're just good at taking examinations.

One or the other or both of them had suggested that what Officer O'Mara needed was a little broader experience than he was getting in the Traffic Division, such as he might get if it could be arranged to have him a.s.signed to Special Operations as your administrative a.s.sistant.

"Now that you've lost Young Payne . . ." his father had said.

"Now that Matt's gone to East Detectives . . ." Chief Coughlin had said.

In chorus: "You're going to need someone to replace him. And you know what a good guy, and a good cop, his father is."

And so Officer O'Mara had taken off his uniform, with the distinctive white Traffic Division brimmed cap, and donned a trio of suits Inspector Wohl somewhat unkindly suspected were left over from his high school graduation and/or obtained from the Final Clearance rack at Sears Roebuck and come to work for Special Operations.

Peter Wohl was sitting on his bed, pulling his socks on when Officer O'Mara walked in with a cup of coffee.

"I couldn't find any cream, Inspector, but I put one spoon of sugar in there. Is that okay?"

Inspector Wohl decided that telling Officer O'Mara that he always took his coffee black would be both unkind and fruitless: He had told him the same thing ten or fifteen times in the office.

"Thank you," he said.

"Stakeout got two critters at the Acme on Baltimore Avenue last night. It was on TV," Officer O'Mara said.

" 'Got two critters'?"

"Blew them away," O'Mara said, admiration in his voice.

"Any police or civilians get hurt?"

"They didn't say anything on TV."

Wohl noticed that Officer O'Mara did not have any coffee.

"Aren't you having any coffee, Paul?"

"I thought you just told me to get you some," O'Mara said.

"Help yourself, Paul. Have you had breakfast?"

"I had a doughnut."

"Well, we're going to the Roundhouse. We can get some breakfast on the way."

"Yes, sir," O'Mara said, and walked out of the bedroom.

Peter Wohl walked to his closet and after a moment's hesitation selected a gray flannel suit. He added to it a light blue b.u.t.ton-down collar s.h.i.+rt and a regimentally striped tie.

Clothes make the man, he thought somewhat cynically. he thought somewhat cynically. First impressions are important. Particularly when one is summoned to meet with the commissioner, and one doesn't have a clue what the sonofab.i.t.c.h wants. First impressions are important. Particularly when one is summoned to meet with the commissioner, and one doesn't have a clue what the sonofab.i.t.c.h wants.

There was no parking s.p.a.ce in the parking lot behind the Police Administration Building reserved for the commanding officer, Special Operations, as there were for the chief inspectors of Patrol Bureau (North), Patrol Bureau (South), Command Inspections Bureau, Administration, Internal Affairs, Detective Bureau, and even the Community Relations Bureau.

Neither could Paul O'Mara park Peter Wohl's official nearly new Ford sedan in spots reserved for CHIEF INSPECTORS AND INSPECTORS ONLY, because Wohl was only a staff inspector, one rank below inspector. The senior bra.s.s of the Police Department were jealous of the prerogatives of their ranks and t.i.tles and would have been offended to see a lowly staff inspector taking privileges that were not rightly his.

Wohl suspected that if a poll were taken, anonymously, of the deputy commissioners, chief inspectors, and inspectors, the consensus would be that his appointment as commanding officer, Special Operations Division, reporting directly to the deputy commissioner, Operations, had been a major mistake, acting to the detriment of overall departmental efficiency, not to mention what harm it had done to the morale of officers senior to Staff Inspector Wohl, who had naturally felt themselves to be in line for the job.

If, however, he also suspected, asked to identify themselves before replying to the same question, to a man they would say that it was a splendid idea, and that there was no better man in the Department for the job.

They all knew that the Hon. Jerry Carlucci, mayor of the City of Philadelphia, had suggested to Police Commissioner Taddeus Czemich that Wohl be given the job. And they all knew that Mayor Carlucci sincerely-and not without reason-believed himself to know more about what was good for the Police Department than anybody else in Philadelphia.

A "suggestion" from Mayor Carlucci to Commissioner Czernich regarding what he should do in the exercise of his office was the equivalent of an announcement on faith and morals issued by the pope, ex cathedra. It was not open for discussion, much less debate.

Peter Wohl had not wanted the job. He had been the youngest, ever, of the fourteen staff inspectors of the Staff Investigations Unit, and had liked very much what he was doing. The penal system of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania was now housing more than thirty former judges, city commissioners, and other high-level bureaucrats and political office holders whom Peter Wohl had caught with their hands either in the public treasury or outstretched to accept contributions from the citizenry in exchange for special treatment.

He had even thought about pa.s.sing up the opportunity to take the examination for inspector. There had been little question in his mind that he could pa.s.s the examination and be promoted, but he suspected that if he did, with only a couple of years as a staff inspector behind him, with the promotion would come an a.s.signment to duties he would rather not have, for example, as commanding officer of the Traffic Division, or the Civil Affairs Division, or even the Juvenile Division.

Department politics would, he had believed, keep him from getting an a.s.signment as an inspector he would really like, which would have included commanding one of the nine Police Divisions (under which were all the police districts) or one of the two Detective Field Divisions (under which were the seven Detective Divisions) or the Tactical Division, under which were Highway Patrol, the Airport, Stakeout, Ordnance Disposal, the police boats in the Marine Unit, the dogs of the Canine Unit, and a unit whose function he did not fully understand called Special Operations.

And then Mayor Carlucci had a little chat with Commissioner Czernich. There was a chance for the Philadelphia Police Department to get its hands on some federal money, from the Justice Department. Some Was.h.i.+ngton bureaucrat had decided that the way to fight crime was to overwhelm the criminal element by sheer numbers. Under the acronym ACT, for Anti-Crime Team, federal money would allow local police departments to dispatch to heavy crime areas large numbers of policemen.

Philadelphia already was trying the same tactic, more or less, with the Highway Patrol, an elite, specially uniformed, two-men-in -a-car unit who normally practiced fighting crime by going to heavy crime areas. But they were, of course, paying for it themselves.

There was a way, Mayor Carlucci suggested, to enlist the financial support of the federal government in the never-ending war against crime. The Philadelphia Police Department would form an ACT unit. It would be placed in the already existing Special Operations Unit. And since Highway Patrol was already doing the same sort of thing, so would Highway Patrol be placed in the Special Operations Division. And Special Operations, the mayor suggested, would be taken out from under the control of the Special Investigations Bureau, made a division, and placed under the direct command of the police commissioner himself.

And the mayor suggested that they needed somebody who was really bright to head up the new division, and what did the commissioner think of Peter Wohl?

The police commissioner knew that as Mayor Carlucci had worked his way up through the ranks of the Police Department, his rabbi had been Chief Inspector Augustus Wohl, retired. And he know that Peter Wohl had just done a h.e.l.l of a fine job putting Superior Court Judge Moses Findermann into the long-term custody of the state penal system. But most important, he understood that when His Honor the Mayor gave a hint like that, it well behooved him to act on it, and he did.

Paul O'Mara, on his second trip through the parking lot, finally found a place, against the rear fence, to park the Ford. He and Staff Inspector Wohl got out of the car and walked to what had been designed as the rear door, but was now the only functioning door, of the Police Administration Building.

A corporal sitting behind a thick plastic window recognized Inspector Wohl and activated the solenoid that unlocked the door to the main lobby. Officer O'Mara pushed it open and held it for Staff Inspector Wohl, an action that made Wohl feel just a bit uncomfortable. Officer Payne had not hovered over him. He was willing to admit he missed Officer Payne.

They rode the curved elevator to the third (actually the fourth) floor of the Roundhouse and walked down the corridor to where a uniformed police officer sat at a counter guarding access to what amounted to the executive suite. Officer O'Mara announced, somewhat triumphantly, their business: "Inspector Wohl to see the commissioner."

The commissioner, Peter Wohl was not surprised to learn, was tied up but would be with him shortly.

The door to the commissioner's conference room was open, and Wohl saw Captain Henry C. Quaire, the head of the Homicide Division, whom he liked, leaning on the conference table, sipping a cup of coffee.

He walked in, and was immediately sorry he had, for Captain Quaire was not alone in the room. Inspector J. Howard Porter, commanding officer of the Tactical Division, was with him.

Inspector Porter had, when word of the federal money and the upgrading of Special Operations had spread through the Department, naturally considered himself a, perhaps the, prime candidate for the command of Special Operations. He not only had the appropriate rank, but his Tactical Division included Highway Patrol.

He had not been given the Special Operations Division, and Highway Patrol had been taken away from Tactical and given to Special Operations. Peter Wohl did not think he could include Inspector Porter in his legion of admirers.

"Good morning, Inspector," Wohl said politely.

"Wohl."

"h.e.l.lo, Henry."

"Inspector."

"Do you know Paul O'Mara?"

"I know your dad," Quaire said, offering O'Mara his hand.

Inspector Porter nodded at Officer O'Mara but said nothing, and did not offer to shake hands.

What is that, Wohl thought, Wohl thought, guilt by a.s.sociation? Or is shaking hands with a lowly police officer beneath your dignity? guilt by a.s.sociation? Or is shaking hands with a lowly police officer beneath your dignity?

He glanced at Quaire, and their eyes met for a moment.

I don't think Quaire likes Porter any more than I do.

"I saw your predecessor last night," Captain Quaire said, as much to Wohl as to O'Mara. "You heard about what happened at the Acme on Baltimore Avenue?"

"I didn't hear Payne shot them," Wohl said without thinking about it.

Quaire laughed. "Not this time, Peter. He was just a spectator."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"That's why we're here," Quaire said. "The commissioner wants to be absolutely sure the shooting was justified."

"Was there a question?"

"h.e.l.l no. Both of the doers fired first."

The commissioner's secretary appeared in the conference room door.

"The commissioner will see you now, Inspector," she said, and then realized there were two men answering to that t.i.tle in the room, and added, ". . . Wohl."

"Thank you," Peter Wohl said.

If I needed one more nail in my coffin, that was it. Porter knows I just walked in here. And I get to enter the throne room first.

SEVEN.

"Good morning, Peter," Commissioner Czernich said, smiling broadly. He was a large, stocky, well-tailored man with a full head of silver hair. "Sit down."

"Good morning, sir."

"Would you like some coffee?"

"Please."

"Black, right?"

"Yes, sir."

I don't think I am about to have my head handed to me on a platter. But on the other hand, I don't think he called me in here to express his appreciation for my all-around splendid performance of duty. And nothing has gone wrong in Special Operations, or I would have heard about it.

"How's your dad?"

"Fine, thank you. I had dinner with him on Monday."

"Give him my regards, the next time you see him."

"I'll do that, thank you."

"You see the Overnights, Peter?"

The Overnights were a summary of major crimes, and/or significant events affecting the Police Department that were compiled from reports from the districts, the Detective Divisions, and major Bureaus, and then distributed to senior commanders.

"No, sir. I came here first thing."

Obviously, I've missed something, and I am about to hear what it is, and why it is my fault.

"Stakeout took down two critters at an Acme on the Baltimore Pike," Czernich said. "It's almost a sure thing these were the characters we've been looking for. If it was a good shooting, we're home free."

"I did hear about that, sir. And from what I heard, I think it was a good shooting."

"Every once in a while, Peter, we do do something right, don't we?"

I'll be d.a.m.ned. I didn't do anything wrong.

"Yes, sir, we do."

"The Vice President's coming to town."

"I saw it in the newspaper."

"He's coming by airplane. He's going to do something at Independence Hall. Then he wants to make a triumphal march up Market Street to 30th Street Station, and get on a train."

" 'March,' sir?"

"Figure of speech. What do they call it, 'motorcade'?"

"Yes, sir."

"I talked to the Secret Service guy. He really wants a Highway escort. On wheels, I mean. I think he thinks, or at least the Vice President does, that that makes them look good on the TV."

"Well, there's nothing I know of, sir, that would keep us from giving Dignitary Protection all the wheels they want."

Highway Patrol, as its name suggested, had been formed before World War II, as "The Bandit Chasers." That had evolved into the "Motor Bandit Patrol" and finally into the Highway Patrol. It had originally been equipped with motorcycles ("wheels") only, and its members authorized a special uniform suitable for motorcyclists, breeches, leather boots, leather jackets, and billed caps with an un-stiffened crown.