Part 42 (1/2)
”I'm here,” a silver-haired priest said. ”Elena, what's the matter?''
”I want them dead! I want them dead!”
”It's going to be all right, Elena,” the priest said. ”Come with me, we'll talk.”
”I'm sorry about this,” Officer Magnella's brother said to Officer McFadden as the priest led Officer Magnella's mother away.
”It's all right, don't worry about it,” Charley said.
Margaret McCarthy looked at Charley McFadden and saw that it wasn't all right. Without thinking what she was doing, she put her hand out to his face, and when he looked at her, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.
EIGHTEEN.
Officer Matthew Payne was feeling a little sorry for himself. He had been given an impossible task-how the h.e.l.l was he supposed to find one man in a city the size of Philadelphia?- and Peter Wohl had made it plain that he expected him to accomplish it: No excuses, please. Just do it.
When he had tried looking for Jason Was.h.i.+ngton in all the places he could think, starting with his home, and then going to the Roundhouse and over to the parking garage and even to Hahneman Hospital, he went back to the Roundhouse, on the admittedly somewhat flimsy reasoning that Was.h.i.+ngton had told him to meet him in Homicide in the Roundhouse before he left word on the answering machine not to meet him there.
Was.h.i.+ngton was not in Homicide and had not been there.
It occurred to Matt that very possibly Was.h.i.+ngton had finished doing whatever he was doing and had gone, as he said he would, out to Bustleton and Bowler. If Was.h.i.+ngton was at Bustleton and Bowler, where he said he would be, and Officer Payne was downtown at the Roundhouse looking for him, Officer Payne was going to look like a G.o.dd.a.m.n fool.
Which, in the final a.n.a.lysis, was probably a just evaluation.
He called Bustleton and Bowler. ”Special Operations, Sergeant Anderson.”
”This is Payne, Sergeant. Is Detective Was.h.i.+ngton around there someplace?”
”No. He called in and wanted to talk to you. He said he told you to wait for him here.”
”Did he say where he was?”
”No. He just said if I saw you, I was to sit on you.”
”Okay.”
”Wait a minute. He said that he would be at City Hall.”
”Thank you very much,” Matt said.
He hung up, rode the elevator down from Homicide, and ran out of the building into the parking lot, where a white-capped Traffic officer was in the process of putting an illegal-parking citation under the Porsche's winds.h.i.+eld wiper.
”Could I change your mind about doing that if I told you I was on the job?” Matt asked.
The Traffic cop, who was old enough to be Matt's father, looked at him dubiously.
”You're a 369?”
Matt nodded.
”Where?”
”Special Operations,” Matt said.
The Traffic cop, shaking his head, removed the citation.
”What did you guys do?” he asked, nodding at the Porsche. ”Confiscate that from a drug dealer?”
This is not the time to tell Daddy that I chopped down the cherry tree.
”Yeah,” Matt said. ”Nice, huh?”
The Traffic cop shook his head resignedly and walked off without another word.
Matt drove to City Hall and parked the Porsche in an area reserved FOR POLICE VEHICLES ONLY.
I would not be at all surprised, the way things are going today, that when I come out of here, to find a cop, maybe that same cop, putting another ticket on me here.
He went inside the building and trotted up the stairs to the second floor. Thirty seconds after that he spotted Detective Jason Was.h.i.+ngton walking toward him. From the look on Was.h.i.+ngton's face, Matt could tell he was not overcome with joy to see him.
”What are you doing here?” Was.h.i.+ngton asked in greeting.
”Inspector Wohl sent me to find you,” Matt said. ”He wants to see you right away.''
”Keep looking,” Was.h.i.+ngton said. ”You didn't find me yet.”
”Okay,” Matt said, with only a moment's hesitation. ”I didn't.”
”In ten minutes, give or take, you will find me in the ground-floor stairwell, on the southeast corner of the building.”
”Yes, sir,” Matt said.
”It's important, Matt,” Was.h.i.+ngton said. ”Trust me.”
”Certainly.”
Wait a minute! If my intention is to put Dolan off-balance, the kid can help. Dolan doesn't like him.
”I don't have time to explain this, even if I were sure I could,” Was.h.i.+ngton said. ”But I just changed my mind. I want you to come with me. I'm looking for your friend, Sergeant Dolan.”
Matt's face registered surprise.
”I don't want you to open your mouth, understand?”
”Yes, sir.”
”You any kind of an actor?”