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“Yes, sir.”
“Well, you—” Wohl interrupted himself. Captain Pekach, in full Highway uniform, walked up. The lieutenant saluted again. Pekach, although he looked a little surprised, returned it.
“Good morning,” Pekach said.
Wohl ignored him.
“Lieutenant, when did you get out of the Army?” he asked.
“I’ve been back about four months, sir.”
“What were you?”
“I had a platoon in the First Cavalry, sir.”
“That worries me,” Wohl said. “Let me tell you why. We are policemen, not soldiers. We are going to arrest some small-time robbers, not assault a Vietcong village. I’m a little worried that you don’t understand that. I don’t want any shooting, unless lives are in danger. I would rather that one or two of these scumbags get away—we can get them later—than to have anybody start shooting the place up. Did Captain Sabara make sure you understood that?”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
“I am about to promulgate a new edict,” Wohl said. “Henceforth, no one will salute the commanding officer of Special Operations unless he happens to be in a uniform.”
“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said. “I’m sorry, Inspector. I didn’t know the ground rules.”
“Go and sin no more,” Wohl said with a smile, touching his arm. “Take over in West Philly. Get going at five o’clock, presuming you think they’re ready.”
“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said.
He walked away.
“Good morning, David,” Wohl said to Pekach. “Captain Sabara and myself are touched that you would get out of your warm bed to be with us here.”
“I figured maybe I could help,” Pekach said.
“You and Officer Payne,” Wohl said dryly. He looked at his watch. “H-hour in thirty-five minutes, men,” he added in a credible mimicry of John Wayne.
“What happens at H-hour, General?” Mickey O’Hara asked.
“We know the whereabouts, as of fifteen minutes ago, of all eight of the people who stuck up Goldblatt’s and murdered the maintenance man—”
“Ah, the Islamic Liberation Army,” Mickey interrupted, “I thought that’s what this probably was.”
“The eight suspects in the felonies committed at Goldblatt’s is what I said, Mr. O’Hara,” Wohl said. “I didn’t say anything about any army, liberation or otherwise.”
“Pardon me all to death, Inspector, sir, I should have picked up on that.”
“As I was saying,” Wohl went on. “Shortly after five, the officers you see gathered here will assist detectives of the Homicide Bureau in serving warrants and taking the suspects into custody. Simultaneously. Or as nearly simultaneously as we can manage.”
“I would have expected Highway,” Mickey said.
“You are getting the ACT officers of Special Operations,” Wohl said.
“How exactly are you going to do the arrests?” Mickey asked. “It looks like an army around here.”
“Seven of the eight suspects are known to be in this area, in other words, around Frankford Avenue. One of them is in West Philly. Two ACT cars, each carrying two officers, will go to the various addresses. There will be a sergeant at each address, plus, of course, the Homicide detective who has been keeping the suspects under surveillance. We anticipate no difficulty in making the arrests. But, just to be sure, there are, under the control of a lieutenant, stakeout vans available. One per two sergeants, plus one more in West Philly. Plus four wagons, three here and one in West Philly.”
“Okay,” Mickey said.
“At Captain Sabara’s suggestion,” Wohl went on, “when the arrests have been made, the suspect will be taken out the back of his residence, rather than out the front door. There he will be loaded into a van and taken to Homicide.”
