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"I wanted to ask you, Matt, what happened last night," Soames T. Browne said.
"I don't really know, Mr. Browne," Matt said.
And then he walked out of the kitchen. Amanda's eyes found his and for a moment held them.
****
Peter Wohl leaned forward, pushed the flashing button on one of the two telephones on his office coffee table, picked it up, said " Inspector Wohl" into it and leaned back into a sprawling position on the couch, tucking the phone under his ear.
/> "Tony Harris, Inspector," his caller said. "You wanted to talk to me?"
"First things first," Wohl said. "You got anything?"
"Not a goddamn thing."
"You need anything?"
"How are you fixed for crystal balls?"
"How many do you want?"
Harris chuckled. "I really can't think of anything special right now, Inspector. This one is going to take a lot of doorbell ringing."
"Well, I can get you the ringers. I had Dave Pekach offer overtime to anybody who wants it."
"I don't have lead fucking one," Harris said.
"You'll find something," Wohl said. "The other reason I asked you to call is that I have sort of a problem."
"How's that?"
"You know a lieutenant named Lewis? Just made it? Used to be a sergeant in the 9^th?"
"Black guy? Stiff-backed?"
"That's him."
"Yeah, I know him."
"He has a son. Just got out of the Police Academy."
"Is that so?" Harris said, suspicion evident in his voice.
"He worked his way through college in the radio room," Wohl said.
"You don't say?"
"The commissioner assigned him to Special Operations," Wohl said.
"You want to drop the other shoe, Inspector?"
"I thought he might be useful to you," Wohl said.
"How?"
"Running errands, maybe. He knows his way around the Department."
"Is that it? Or don't you know what else to do with him?"
