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"What the hell happened here tonight?" he asked as they drove down Colombia to North Broad and then turned left toward downtown.
"A very nice young cop named Joe Magnella got himself shot," DeBenedito said.
"You knew him?" Matt asked.
"He was a second cousin once removed, or a first cousin twice removed, something like that. My mother's sister, Blanche, is married to his uncle. I didn't know him good, but I seen him at weddings and funerals, feast days, like that. Nice kid. Just come back from VeetNam. I don't think he was on the job six months. He was about to get married.Son of a bitch!"
"What happened?" Matt asked softly.
"Nobody seems to know. He was working an RPC out of the 22^nd. He didn't call in or anything, from what I hear. There was a call to Police Emergency, saying there was a cop shot on Clarion Street. Fucker didn't give his name, of course. Martinez and I were on Roosevelt Boulevard, not close, but it was a cop, so we went in on it. By the time we got there, the place was crawling with cops, so we found ourselves directing traffic. Anyway, the kid was in the gutter, dead. Shot at least twice. The door to his car was open, but he hadn't taken his gun out or anything. And he hadn't called in to say he was doing anything out of the ordinary. Some son of a bitch who didn't like cops or whatever just shot him."
"Jesus Christ!" Matt said.
"What was that shit going on between the mayor and them other big shots?" Sergeant DeBenedito asked.
"The mayor assigned the investigation to Special Operations," Matt said.
"Can you guys handle something like that? This is a fucking homicide, isn't it? Pure and simple?"
"When we were looking for the Northwest rapist," Matt said, " Inspector Wohl had two Homicide detectives transferred in. The best. Jason Washington and Tony Harris. If anybody can find the man who shot
… what was his name…?"
"Magnella, Joseph Magnella," DeBenedito furnished.
"… Officer Magnella, those two can."
"Washington is that great big black guy?"
"Yeah."
"I seen him around," DeBenedito said. "And I heard about him."
"He's really good," Matt said. "I had the chance to be around him-"
"You're the guy who put down the rapist, ain't you?" DeBenedito asked, and then went on without waiting for an answer. "Martinez told me about that after I put you on the ground in the parking garage. I'm sorry about that. You didn't look like a cop."
"Forget it," Matt said.
"Talk about looking like a cop!" Martinez said. "Did you see the baby-blue pants and the hat on Inspector Wohl? It looked like he was going to play fucking golf or something! Jesus H. Christ!"
"Is he as good as they say he is?" DeBenedito asked, "or does he just have a lot of pull?"
"Both, I'd say," Matt said. His knees hurt. He pushed himself back onto the seat as DeBenedito drove around City Hall and then up Market Street.
The Highway Patrol pulled to the curb on the south side of Rittenhouse Square as a foot-patrol officer made his way down the sidewalk. He looked on curiously as the cop in the passenger seat jumped out and opened the rear door so that a civilian in a tuxedo could get out. (The inside handles on RPCs are often removed so that people put in the back can't get out before they're suppose to.)
"Good night, Hay-zus," Matt said, and raising his voice, called, " Thanks for the ride, Sergeant."
"Stay off parking garage roofs, Payne," Sergeant DeBenedito called back as Jesus Martinez got back in and slammed the door.
"Good morning," Matt said to the foot-patrol cop.
"Yeah," the cop responded, and then he watched as Matt let himself into the Delaware Valley Cancer Society Building. It was a renovated, turn-of-the-century brownstone. Renovations for a long-term lease as office space to the Cancer Society had been just about completed when the architect told the owner he had found enough space in what had been the attic to make a small apartment.
Matt had found the apartment through his father's secretary and moved in when he'd gone on the job. A month ago he had learned that his father owned the building.
The elevator ended on the floor below the attic. He got out of the elevator, thinking it was a good thing Amanda had been willing to park his car for him before catching a cab to Merion; he would need his car tomorrow, for sure, and then walked up the narrow flight of stairs to the attic apartment.
