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“Welcome to New York,” the younger one said. “Only a few of us speak English, and even fewer are cooperative.”
The older one chuckled.
“The doer-”
“By ‘doer,’ you mean ‘the suspected perpetrator’?” the younger one interrupted.
“Right. He’s a real sicko-”
“By which you mean he’s ‘psychiatrically challenged,’ right?” the younger one asked. “Has difficulty accepting the common concept of right and wrong as the modus operandi for his life?”
“Yeah, you could put it that way,” Matt said. “I want to get this guy before he does it to another young woman.”
“A noble thought,” the young one said. “How could we be of assistance?”
“It would help me a hell of a lot if one of you would go into the store with me. I really need to have a look at their sales records.”
“Presumably, Sergeant,” the young one said, “this fishing expedition of yours has been cleared by the New York police department’s Office of Inter-Agency Cooperation?”
Oh, shit!
“No. I haven’t cleared anything with anybody. I just got in my car and drove here. This happened early today, and right now this is our best lead. I just acted on my urge.”
The young man considered this a moment.
“Charley, take us out of service for ten minutes. I’m going to take a little walk with Sergeant Payne.”
“Right, Lieutenant,” the older one said, reaching for an under-the-dash microphone.
Lieutenant?
The young one got out of the passenger seat, then opened the rear door and motioned Matt out. Then he walked to the Porsche and got in.
Matt carefully watched the traffic and then quickly got behind the wheel.
“Do all the sergeants in Philadelphia get wheels like this?” the young man asked. Before Matt could reply, he ordered, “Two blocks down and make a right.”
Matt got into the flow of traffic.
“I usually say it’s something we took away from the drug industry,” Matt said. “But the truth is, it’s mine.”
“They must pay better, one way or another, in Philadelphia, ” the young man said.
“My lieutenant borrowed my brand-new unmarked car,” Matt said. “So I drove this, instead of taking the train.”
“If one of my sergeants had a brand-new unmarked, I’d do the same,” the young man said. “There’s a parking garage on the left.”
Okay, that makes you a lieutenant. What’s a lieutenant doing sitting in an unmarked in the middle of Times Square?
“It says full.”
“Some of us can read,” the young man said. “Although I will admit we do have a number of people on the job who are literacy-challenged.”
Matt pulled into the parking lot, nose to nose with a Mercedes. There was no room. He was blocking half the sidewalk.
The attendant came out, waving his hands, “no.” He was wearing a beard and a turban.
“I think sign language is going to be necessary,” the young lieutenant said, “and not because this fellow is aurally challenged.”
