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Detective Charles McFadden, a very large, pleasant-faced young man, was sitting at a desk at the entrance to the offices of the Northwest Detective Division, on the second floor of the Thirty-fifth Police District building at North Broad and Champlost streets.
“This is Sergeant Monahan, Fourteenth District. Is Captain O’Connor around?”
“He’s around here someplace,” Detective McFadden said, then raised his voice: “Captain, Sergeant Monahan on Three Four for you.”
“What can I do for you, Jack?” Captain Thomas O’Connor said.
“Sir, I’m out on a Five Two Nine Two in Chestnut Hill. The Detweiler estate. It’s the Detweiler girl.”
“What happened to her?”
“Looks like a drug overdose.”
“I’ll call Chief Lowenstein,” Captain O’Connor said, thinking aloud.
Lowenstein would want to know about this as soon as possible. For one thing, the Detweiler family was among the most influential in the city. The Mayor would want to know about this, and Lowenstein could get the word to him.
Captain O’Connor thought of another political ramification to the case: the Detweiler girl’s boyfriend was Detective Matthew Payne. Detective Payne had for a rabbi Chief Inspector Dennis V. Coughlin. It was a toss-up between Coughlin and Lowenstein for the unofficial title of most important chief inspector. O’Connor understood that he would have to tell Coughlin what had happened to the Detweiler girl. And then he realized there was a third police officer who had a personal interest and would have to be told.
“You’re just calling it in?” O’Connor asked.
“I thought I’d better report it directly to you.”
“Yeah. Right. Good thinking. Consider it reported. I’ll get somebody out there right away. A couple of guys just had their court appearances canceled. I don’t know who’s up on the wheel, but I’ll see the right people go out on this job. And I’ll go myself.”
“The body’s still on a Fire Department stretcher,” Monahan said. “The father carried it downstairs to wait for the ambulance. I haven’t called the M.E. yet.”
“You go ahead and call the M.E.,” O’Connor said. “Do this strictly by the book. Give me a number where I can get you.”
Monahan read it off the telephone cradle and O’Connor recited it back to him.
“Right,” Monahan said.
“Thanks for the call, Jack,” O’Connor said, and hung up.
He looked down at Detective McFadden.
“Who’s next up on the wheel?”
“I am. I’m holding down the desk for Taylor.”
“When are Hemmings and Shapiro due in?”
Detective McFadden looked at his watch.
“Any minute. They called in twenty minutes ago.”
“Have Taylor take this job when he gets here. I don’t think you should.”
McFadden’s face asked why.
“That was a Five Two Nine Two, Charley. It looks like your friend Payne’s girlfriend put a needle in herself one time too many.”
“Holy Mother of God!”
“At her house. That’s all I have. But I don’t think you should take the job.”
“Captain, I’m going to need some personal time off.”
