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"A what?"
"A bridesmaid. There's a dinner at the Union League."
"Who is she?"
"I told you. Her name is Detweiler," Matt said, and then finally understood the question. "She lives in Chestnut Hill. Her father is president of Nesfoods."
"But you don't know the other victim?"
"No. I don't think he was with her. He's not wearing a dinner jacket."
"A what?"
"A tuxedo. The dinner is what they call 'black-tie.'"
RPW 902 came onto the roof.
Officer Howard C. Sawyer saw DeBenedito and the victim and quickly and skillfully turned the van around and backed up to them. Officer Thomas Collins, riding shotgun in 902, was out of the wagon before it stopped, first signaling to Sawyer when to stop and then quickly opening the rear door.
"This one's still alive," DeBenedito said. "There's a dead one-" He stopped, thinking, I don't know if the other one is dead or not; all I have is this rookie's opinion that he's dead.
"The other oneis dead, right?" he asked, challenging Matt Payne.
"The top of his head is gone," Matt said.
DeBenedito looked at Officers Sawyer, Collins, Payne, and Martinez.
What I have here is four fucking rookies!
The victim moaned as Sawyer and Collins, as gently as they could, picked her up and slid her onto a stretcher.
The second officer in an RPW, the one said to be "riding shotgun," was officially designated as "the recorder"; he was responsible for handling all the paperwork. According to Department procedure, the recorder in an RPW would ride with the victim in the back of the wagon en route to the hospital to interview her, if possible, and possibly get a "dying declaration," what would be described in court as the last words of the deceased before dying. A dying declaration carried a lot of weight with jurors.
Sergeant DeBenedito didn't think Officer Collins looked bright enough to write down his own laundry list.
He made his decision.
"Take her to Hahneman, that's closest," he ordered, referring to Hahneman Hospital, on just the other side of City Hall on North Broad Street. "Martinez, you get in the back with the girl and see what you can find out. You know about 'dying d
eclarations'?"
"Yeah," Martinez said.
"And you, Payne, take the stairs downstairs and seal off the building. Nobody in or out. Got it?"
"Got it," Matt said, and started for the stairwell.
DeBenedito started for his car, and then changed his mind. He still didn't know for sure if the second victim was really dead.
One look at the body confirmed what Payne had told him. The top of the head was gone. The face, its eyes open and distorted, registered surprise.
On closer inspection the victim looked familiar. After a moment Sergeant DeBenedito was almost positive that the second victim was Anthony J. DeZego, a young, not too bright, Mafia guy known as Tony the Zee.
Now he walked quickly to the Highway car and picked up the microphone.
"Highway 21."
"Highway 21," police radio responded.
