Part 32 (2/2)
”I don't suppose I could call you back?” he said.
”What's going on?”
”I'd rather not say.”
”It will have to wait,” Wohl said. ”This won't take long.”
”Yes, sir.”
”What Denny Coughlin wanted me to say to you-and incidentally, I agree with all of this-is that he thinks what he ordered you-the operative word here is 'ordered'-to do about Chenowith went in one ear and out the other. Do you remember that order?”
”Yes, sir.”
”Prove it. What did he say?”
”This is a very bad time for that, Inspector,” Matt said.
”What did he say, Matt? What did he order you to do?”
”I'd really rather call you back when I have a chance to refresh my memory,” Matt said.
”You're telling me you've forgotten?” Wohl asked incredulously.
”No, sir.”
Wohl suddenly caught on.
”She's there?” he asked, even more incredulously.
”That's the long and the short of it, Inspector.”
”In that case, call me back when you have a free minute. In the meantime, Matt, for Christ's sake, remember those people are dangerous.”
”I'll keep that in mind, sir,” Matt said.
The phone went dead.
Matt looked at Susan. The way she was sitting with her legs crossed on the couch gave him a good view of a shapely calf, moving in what looked like annoyance or impatience, and a view of her upper leg halfway up her dress.
Whatever she looks like, she doesn't look dangerous.
”Sorry,” he said. ”That was my boss.”
”You want to tell me what's going on here?”
”You mean with him and me, or you and me?”
”What are you doing here?”
”Working,” he said.
”Working?” she repeated.
”I've been sent up to look into some bank records,” Matt said. ”Lieutenant Deitrich of White Collar Crimes is going to get me into the banks.”
”What kind of bank records?”
”What are we doing, playing Twenty Questions?”
”I'm curious, all right?”
”There were some not very nice people in Philadelphia who had what we call ill-gotten gains, which we suspect they have hidden out here in the provinces. I have been sent to see if I can find said ill-gotten gains.”
”Not very nice white-collar people?”
”Actually, this is not at all a nice character. What this character is is what you could call a White s.h.i.+rt with a dirty collar.”
”Why do I have the feeling we are talking two different languages?”
”There was a call girl ring in Philadelphia, who had a Vice lieutenant on the payroll. In the quaint cant of the police trade, lieutenants and up are called 'White s.h.i.+rts,' possibly because their uniform s.h.i.+rts are white.”
”You do a lot of this sort of thing?” she asked.
”Jobs like this are handed out to junior detectives,” Matt said. ”I am a very junior detective. Before I was promoted to do things like search bank records, I spent a lot of time investigating recovered stolen motor vehicles. That is the bottom rung of my profession, like Chad going into grocery stores and begging them to buy two more cases of Nesbitt's World Famous Tomato Soup.”
That earned him another smile.
”I have trouble really believing you're a cop.”
”So do a lot of people,” Matt said. He decided it was time to change the subject. ”I am of course delighted to see you. If I had known you were coming, I would have had champagne on ice. But I am just a little curious.”
”I have to talk to you,” Susan said.
”I may be a junior detective, but I am a brilliant junior detective, so let me demonstrate my Sherlock Holmes-like deductive skills: There has been a change in plans, and your mother's kind invitation to break bread has to be withdrawn.”
”I wish it was that simple,” she said. ”I need a big favor from you.”
”I suppose I could let you have a couple of bucks until payday. Presuming you have some sort of collateral.”
”Aren't you ever serious?”
”Only when there is no possible alternative. How may I a.s.sist you, fair lady?”
”You can let my parents think we were out until very late listening to Dixieland jazz.”
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