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“With all respect, Monsignor, I’m not supposed to talk about details of an ongoing investigation.”
“And that’s a good rule, and I’m pleased to see you’re paying attention to it,” Commissioner Mariani said. “But I’d like to know, and I think the mayor would, and neither the mayor nor me is about to ask Monsignor Schneider to give us a moment alone. I’m sure he understands why.”
“My lips are sealed, Sergeant,” the monsignor said.
“Yes, sir,” Matt said. “There was sperm at the scene, sir. They are already doing the DNA. Once we catch this fellow, get another DNA sample from him, and match it, it’ll prove conclusively that he was at the scene.”
“The certainty of a DNA match is on the order of several million to one, Monsignor,” Commissioner Mariani pronounced.
“Absolutely fascinating,” the monsignor said. “I was just telling the commissioner and the mayor, Sergeant, that when I last spoke with Stan, he made it pretty clear that while he’s here-and we don’t have him occupied-he’d like to spend some time watching the police-specifically you, Sergeant- at work. I confess I hadn’t thought about what you just said about your having to be closemouthed about details of an ongoing investigation.”
“I don’t think that would be any problem with Mr. Colt,” the mayor said. “Do you, Commissioner?”
“The problem, Mr. Mayor,” Mariani replied, “would be making sure that Mr. Colt understood that whatever he saw, or heard, when he was with Sergeant Payne couldn’t go any further.”
“I don’t think that would be a problem at all,” Monsignor Schneider said. “I’m sure Stan would understand. After all, he’s played a detective on the screen so often.”
The commissioner smiled. A little wanly, Matt thought.
A Traffic Unit sergeant walked up to them, saluted, and said, “Commissioner, Mr. Colt’s airplane’s about to land.”
Lieutenant Ross J. Mueller of the Forensic Laboratory of the Pennsylvania State Police in Harrisburg rose to his feet and extended his hand when Tony Harris was shown into his office.
“What can we do for you, Detective?” he asked, smiling cordially.
Mueller was a very large, muscular man who wore a tight-fitting uniform and his hair in a crew cut. Tony remembered what Dick Candelle had said about him probably having trouble finding his ass with both hands.
“Thank you for seeing me, sir,” Tony said, “but I really hoped I could see Lieutenant Stecker.”
Mueller looked at his watch.
“At the end of this tour-in other words, in an hour and five minutes-Lieutenant Stecker will hang up his uniform hat for the last time, and enter a well-deserved retirement. I’m taking his place. Now, how can Headquarters help Philadelphia?”
“Sir, I’m working a homicide…”
“In what capacity?”
“Sir?”
“As the lead detective? One of the investigators? In what capacity?”
“I’m the lead detective on the job, sir.”
“And you’re here officially?”
“Yes, sir, I’m here officially.”
“I thought perhaps that was the case. I don’t recall hearing that you were coming.”
“Sir, I just got in the car and came out here.”
“You didn’t check with your supervisor so that he could make an appointment for you?”
“No, sir, I did not.”
“And who is your supervisor?”
“Lieutenant Jason Washington, sir.”
