AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Martinez, are you going with McFadden, or would you rather stay here and sulk?” Matt asked.
“You son of a bitch!” Martinez spluttered.
“Jesus Christ, Matt,” McFadden said. “You never know when to quit.”
“This gentleman,” Vincenzo Savarese said softly to the waiter, “is my guest, and so are those two.”
He pointed to a table near the door of the Hotel Warwick’s small, elegant dining room, where Pietro Cassandro and Peter Wohl were holding large, ornate menus.
“That’s very kind,” Chief Inspector Dennis V. Coughlin said, “but why don’t we go Dutch?”
“I am Italian, and you are Irish. How can we go Dutch?” Savarese asked. “Besides, it’d give me pleasure. Please indulge me.”
“Thank you,” Coughlin said, giving in.
He ordered freshly squeezed orange juice, scrapple, two soft-scrambled eggs, biscuits, and coffee. Savarese—surprising him, for Savarese was slight, almost delicate—ordered a much larger breakfast of freshly squeezed orange juice, eggs Benedict, a side order of corned beef hash, biscuits, and coffee, and asked that his coffee be served now, with fresh cream only—if they had only milk, then black.
“Looking at Inspector Wohl reminds me how quickly the years pass,” Savarese said. “I remember him, in short pants, at baseball games with his father.”
“I think he’ll be police commissioner one day,” Coughlin said. “He’s a fine man.”
“And when are they going to make you police commissioner?”
“The day after Miami gets twelve inches of snow,” Coughlin said.
“I think you are much too modest,” Savarese said. “You are universally recognized as one of the best policemen in Philadelphia.”
“Thank you, but police commissioner is not in the cards for me.”
The waiter appeared with their coffee and a small pitcher of fresh cream.
“One never knows what the future will bring,” Savarese said.
Coughlin waited until they had put cream and sugar in their coffee.
“Let me begin, Mr. Savarese, by telling you how sorry I am, both professionally and personally, about what happened to your granddaughter.”
Savarese’s expression didn’t change at all. After a moment, he said: “Thank you. We can only pray for her full recovery. We have tried to get the best possible medical attention.”
“I think you have found the best,” Coughlin said.
Savarese nodded.
“As I was just saying, one never knows what the future will bring.”
“I thought you would like to know that at seven fifty-eight this morning, the animal responsible for your granddaughter’s difficulty was stripped of his police officer’s badge and arrested. The entire Philadelphia Police Department is deeply ashamed that he once wore our uniform. He has brought shame on us all.”
Savarese looked directly at Coughlin, but said nothing.
The waiter appeared with their orange juice, a wicker basket full of assorted biscuits, rolls and croissants, two tubs of butter, and a selection of marmalades.
Savarese absently selected a croissant, broke it in two, and buttered the half he kept in his hand.
“You’re sure you have the right man?” he asked finally.
“We’re sure.”
“He has confessed to this outrage?”
