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"Mr. Larkin, sir."
Sabara went into Wohl's office and picked up the telephone.
"Good morning, Mr. Larkin. Mike Sabara. Can I help you?"
"I really wanted to talk to Peter, Mike."
"He won't be here until after lunch, and I don't really know how to reach him."
"That's not a polite way of saying he doesn't want to talk to me, is it?"
"No," Sabara said. "I… Not for dissemination, he's been promoted to Inspector. He's in the Commissioner's office."
"Well good for him," Larkin said, then added, "Something has come up.May have come up. An ATF guy from Atlantic City has found evidence of a recent series of high-explosive detonations under odd circumstances."
"Really?"
"I just this minute got the call. It may or not be our guy. But on the other hand, it's all anybody's turned up. I'm going to the scene… it's in the Pine Barrens in Jersey… and I'd sort of hoped Peter would either go with me, or send somebody else."
"I can't leave," Sabara said.
"What about Malone?"
"He's at the Roundhouse, and I don't expect him back for at least an hour."
"What about Payne? He at least knows what we're up against."
"When and where do you want him?"
"Here. Ten minutes ago."
"He'll be twenty minutes late. He's on his way."
"Thank you, Mike. I appreciate the cooperation," Larkin said, and hung up.
****
En route from the Schoolhouse to the Federal Courts Building in Captain Mike Sabara's unmarked car, Detective Payne realized that he had no idea where in the Federal
Courts Building he was to meet Supervisory Special Agent H. Charles Larkin. For that matter, he didn' t know where in the building the Secret Service maintained its offices, and he suspected that he would not be allowed to drive a car into the building's basement garage without the proper stickers on its windshield.
Fuck it, he decided. I'll park right in front of the place, and worry about fixing the ticket later.
His concerns were not justified. When he pulled to the curb, Larkin was standing there waiting for him. He pulled open the passenger side door and got in.
"Good morning, Detective Payne," he said cheerfully. "And how are you this bright and sunny morning?"
Matt opened his mouth to reply, but before a word came out, Larkin went on: "Has this thing got a whistle?"
He means "siren,"Detective Payne mentally translated.
He looked down at the row of switches mounted below the dash. He saw Larkin's finger flip one up and the siren began to howl.
"A Jersey State Trooper is waiting for us on the Jersey side of the Ben Franklin Bridge," Larkin said.
Matt looked into his rearview mirror and pulled into the stream of traffic.
No one got out of his way, despite the wailing siren, and, Matt presumed, flashing lights concealed behind the grill.
