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“There’s one bastard I would really like to see shuffling around in shackles,” Captain Hollaran said, handing something to Captain Pekach.
“You’d like to see him in shackles?” Captain Sabara replied. “I’d like to see him fry. I’d strap him in the chair myself.”
Despite his somewhat menacing appearance, Captain Michael Sabara was really a rather gentle man. Matt was surprised at his vehemence.
“Fry”? “I’d strap him in the chair myself”?
Who are they talking about?
“You were saying, Detective Payne?” Inspector Wohl went on.
“Sorry, sir. I had to change my clothes,” Payne said.
“When was the last time you got a postcard, Dave?” Commissioner Coughlin asked.
“I get one every couple of months,” Pekach replied. “The one before this was from Rome. This one’s from someplace in France.”
“Probably from where he lives,” Coughlin said, shaking his head. “The sonofabitch knows the French won’t let us extradite him.”
“Unless it had something to do with Monsignor Schneider, I don’t think I want to hear why you had to change your clothes,” Inspector Wohl said.
“Nothing to do with the monsignor, sir.”
“Good,” Inspector Wohl said. “I presume everything went well at the meeting?”
“Everything went well at the meeting,” Matt said. “I e-mailed you, sir.”
“So you did,” Wohl said. “And I was delighted to hear that you think you’re in love, but wondered why you thought you should notify me officially.”
“You’re in love, are you, Payne?” Captain Pekach asked.
“No, sir, I’m not.”
“Then why did you tell Inspector Wohl you were, and as part of your official duties?” Commissioner Coughlin asked.
“It was a little joke, sir,” Matt said.
Jesus, why the hell did I do that?
And damn it, I sent it to his personal e-mail address, so it wasn’t official.
“You have to watch that sort of thing, Matty,” Commissioner Coughlin said, his tone suggesting great disappointment in Matt’s lack of professionalism.
“Who are you in love with, Payne?” Captain Sabara asked.
“There was a girl at the meeting,” Matt said. “I…”
“The sort of girl you could bring home to dinner with your mother?” Sabara pursued.
“Or to dinner with my Martha?” Captain Pekach asked.
Martha was Mrs. Pekach.
“Sir?”
“More important,” Sabara asked, “what makes you think this female is in love with you?”
I am having my chain pulled. Just for the hell of it? Or is there more to this?
