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“Yeah, right,” Lowenstein said, and walked back to Mrs. Annette Cossino’s desk and reached for one of the telephones.
“D’Amata will understand, Peter,” the Mayor said.
“Yes, sir,” Peter said. “I’m sure he will.”
“Annette,” the Mayor called. “Call the Thirty-ninth. Tell the Commanding Officer I want him and this uniform standing by to come here if I need them.”
“Yes, Mr. Mayor,” Mrs. Cossino said.
“Henry,” Lowenstein said into the telephone. “When they bring in the critter from the Thirty-ninth, handcuff him to a chair in an interview room and leave him there until Washington shows up. Wohl’s putting the arm out for him now. I think that’s the way to handle the interview, and the Mayor agrees.”
He hung the phone up and turned to face Carlucci.
“Are you pissed at me, Matt?” Carlucci, sounding genuinely concerned, asked.
“When am I not pissed at you?” Lowenstein said. “It goes with the territory.”
“You don’t think it was a good idea?”
“That’s the trouble. I think it was a very good idea,” Lowenstein said.
“Sergeant Washington is en route to the Roundhouse, Mr. Mayor,” Wohl repeated.
“Great!” Carlucci said enthusiastically. Then he smiled broadly. “Let’s do this all over.”
“What?” Lowenstein asked in confusion.
“Well, Chief Lowenstein,” Carlucci said, and grabbed Lowenstein’s hand and pumped it. “And Inspector Wohl! How good of you both to come see me! It’s always a pleasure to see two of the most valuable members of the Police Department here in my office. Come in and have a cup of coffee and tell me how I may be of assistance!”
Lowenstein shook his head in resignation.
“Jesus Christ!”
“What can I do for you, Chief?”
“Stop the bullshit, Jerry,” Lowenstein said, chuckling.
“OK,” Carlucci said agreeably. “What’s up?”
“Last night, a couple of South detectives saw one John Francis Foley pass a package to one Gerald North Atchison. Shortly thereafter, Detective Payne of Special Operations saw Mr. Atchison throw said package off a pier in Chester—”
“How did South detectives get involved in this?” Carlucci asked, and Wohl saw that he had slipped back into being a cop.
“Payne was surveilling Atchison. He ran into the South detectives and asked for their assistance.”
“OK,” Carlucci said thoughtfully. “Go on.”
“The package was retrieved early this morning by a police diver. The lab just came up with a positive ballistics match to the murder weapons.”
“Fingerprints?”
Lowenstein shook his head. “Weapons were cleaned. I thought I’d show it to you before I sent someone over to Tom Callis’s office with it.”
“Let me see,” Carlucci said, holding out his hand.
Lowenstein handed the Mayor an envelope. Carlucci made a “come in” gesture with his hand, walked ahead of them into his office, sat down at his desk, and opened the envelope.
Carlucci carefully stuffed the report back into its envelope, then looked at Lowenstein.“It may be enough,” Carlucci said. “It is for an arrest, anyway.”
