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As a politician possessed of skills approaching the political skills of the Mayor, the District Attorney had considered the possibility that Mayor Carlucci would be happy to drop the ball, the Inferno ball, into his lap. That he would, in other words, be able to get the Ledger off his back by making an arrest in the case on information that might not hold up either before a grand jury or in court.
“My Police Department,” the Mayor might well say, “with its usual brilliance, nabbed those villains. If they walked out of court free men, that speaks to the competence of Mr. Callis.”
Proof—not that any was needed—that this case had heavy political ramifications came when the police officers sent to the District Attorney’s office to present their evidence gathered turned out to be Chief Inspector of Detectives Matthew Lowenstein and Inspector Peter Wohl, Commanding Officer of the Special Operations Division. Mr. Callis—who normally disagreed with anything written in the Ledger, which had opposed him in the last election—was forced to admit that there was indeed more than a grain of truth in
the Ledger’s editorial assertion that the Special Operations Division had become Carlucci’s private police force.
And with Chief Lowenstein’s opening comment. when he was shown into Callis’s office:
“Mr. District Attorney, I bring you the best regards of our mayor, whose office Inspector Wohl and I just left.”
“How gracious of our beloved mayor! Please be so kind, Chief Inspector, to pass on my warmest regards to His Honor when you next see him, which no doubt will be shortly after we conclude our little chat.”
“It will be my pleasure, Mr. District Attorney.”
“How the hell are you, Matt?” Callis asked, chuckling. “We don’t see enough of each other these days.”
“Can’t complain, Tom. How’s the wife?”
“Compared to what? How are you, Peter?”
“Mr. Callis,” Wohl said.
“You’re a big boy now, Peter. A full inspector. You don’t have to call me ‘Mister.’”
Wohl smiled and shrugged, and raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness.
“My saintly father always told me, when you’re with a lawyer, be respectful and keep one hand on your wallet,’ Wohl said.
Callis chuckled. “Give my regards to the saintly old gentleman, Peter. And your mother.”
“Thank you, I will.”
“OK. Now what have we got?”
“We have the guns used in the Inferno murders. We have—” Lowenstein began.
“Tell me about the guns, Matt,” Callis interrupted.
Lowenstein opened his briefcase. He took a sheaf of Xerox copies from it and laid it on Callis’s desk.
“The lab reports, Tom,” he said. “They’re pretty conclusive.”
“Would you mind if I asked Harry Hormel to come in here?” Callis asked. “If I can’t find the time to prosecute, it’ll almost certainly be Harry.”
“By all means,” Lowenstein said smoothly. “I’d like to get Harry’s opinion.”
District Attorney Callis punched his intercom button and very politely asked his secretary to see if she could determine if Mr. Hormel was in the building, and if so, if he could spare a few minutes to come to his office.
A faint smile flickered across Peter Wohl’s face. He was perfectly sure that Hormel had been ordered, probably far less courteously, to make himself available.
“Harry,” Callis had almost certainly said, “don’t leave the office until you check with me. Lowenstein and Wohl are coming over with something on the Inferno murders. I’ll need you.”
Or words to that effect: Mr. Harrison J. Hormel was an assistant district attorney. He had come to the District Attorney’s Office right after passing the bar examination twenty-odd years before and had stayed.
Only a small number of bright young lawyers fresh from law school stayed on. Many of those who did were those who felt the need of a steady paycheck and were not at all sure they could earn a living in private practice. Hormel, in Peter’s opinion, was the exception to that rule of thumb. He was a very good lawyer, and a splendid courtroom performer. Juries trusted him. He could have had a far more lucrative legal career as a defense counsel.
Peter had decided, years before, that Hormel had stayed on, rising to be (at least de facto) the best prosecutor in the DA’s Office because he took pride and satisfaction in putting evil people where they could do no more harm.
