Wohl now placed the name and face. His caller was the Highway Tour Commander on duty.
“What’s up, Jackson?”
“We got a pretty bad wreck, I’m afraid. Highway Sixteen was going in on a call and hit a civilian broadside. At Second and Olney.”
“Anybody hurt?”
“Both of our guys were injured,” Jackson said, reluctance in his voice. “One of the passengers in the civilian car is dead; two others are pretty badly injured.”
“My God!”
“It was a little boy that got killed, Inspector,” Jackson said.
“Jesus H. Christ!” Wohl said. “Has Captain Pekach been notified?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You say they were answering a call?”
“Yes, sir,” Jackson said. “They went in on a call to the Thirty-fifth District. Somebody saw a woman being forced into a van by a guy with a knife at Front and Godfrey, one of the apartment buildings. In the parking lot.”
“Where are you?”
“At the scene, sir.”
“What scene, the wreck or the kidnapping?”
“The wreck, sir. I sent Sergeant Paster to the kidnapping.”
“Get on the radio, and tell Captain Pekach I said for him to handle the wreck, and then tell Sergeant—”
“Paster, sir,” Lieutenant Jackson furnished.
“Tell Sergeant Paster to meet me at the scene of the kidnapping,” Wohl said.
“Yes, sir.”
Wohl hung up without saying anything else.
He found the manager and arranged to settle the bill before returning to the table.
“A Highway car hit a civilian,” he said, looking at his father. “A little boy is dead.”
“Oh, God!” his father said.
“They were going in on a Thirty-fifth District call,” Peter said. “Someone reported a woman being forced into a van at knife point. I’ve got to go.”
His father nodded his understanding.
Peter looked at Barbara. “Sorry,” he said. “And I don’t know how long this will take.”
“I understand,” she said. “No problem, I’ve got my car.”
“And I’m sorry to have to walk out on your party, Mother.”
“Don’t be silly, dear,” she said. “At least you got to eat your dinner.”
“I’ll call you,” he said, and walked quickly out of the restaurant.