Special Operations (Badge of Honor 2)

“Yes, sir.”

“Ah,” Washington said, looking around the room. “Here comes my lunch!”

The waitress delivered two New York Strip steaks, a filet mignon (to Washington) and a shrimp salad.

If I had ordered a steak, Matt thought, they would have ordered bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches.

Nobody spoke another word until Washington laid his knife and fork on the plate, and delicately dabbed at his mouth with his napkin.

“We work for you, right?” he asked. “I don’t have to check with Sabara every time I sharpen a pencil?”

“Mike is the Deputy Commander,” Wohl said.

“We work for you, right?” Washington repeated.

“Mike is the Deputy Commander,” Wohl repeated, “but I will tell him that the only job you two have is the Northwest Philly rapist. What have you got against Sabara?”

“He’s a worrier,” Washington said. “Worriers make me nervous.”

Wohl chuckled.

Washington looked at Matt Payne. “You open to a little advice, son?”

“Yes, sir,” Payne said.

“‘Yes, sir,’” Harris quoted mockingly.

“That’s a very nice jacket,” Washington said, giving Harris a dirty look, and then turning his face to Matt. “Tripler?”

“Yes,” Matt said, surprised. “As a matter of fact it is.”

“If you’re going to wear a shoulder holster, you have to have them make allowance for it,” Washington said. “Cut it a little fuller under the left arm. What you look like now, with the material stretched that way, is a man carrying a pistol in a shoulder holster.”

Matt, smiling uneasily, looked at Inspector Wohl, whom he found grinning at him.

“Listen to him, Payne,” Wohl said. “He’s the recognized sartorial authority in the Police Department.”

“The whole idea of plainclothes is to look like anything but a cop,” Washington said. “What you really should do, in the summer, is get a snub-nose and carry it in an ankle holster. Very few people look at your ankles to see if you’re carrying a gun, and even if they do, unless you wear peg-leg trousers like Harris here, they’re pretty much out of sight on your ankles.”

Wohl laughed.

Washington stood up and put out his hand to Wohl.

“Thank you for the lunch,” he said. “I’ll check in if I come up with anything.”

“My pleasure,” Wohl said. “Jason, what you have for radios in the car is J-Band and I don’t know what else. It’s arranged with Radio to give you Detectives and Highway, too. I mean, if you take the car there, they’re set up to do the work right away. Tony, you paying attention?”

“When do I get a car?” Harris asked.

“As soon as Jason drives you over to get one.”

Harris grunted.

“Sabara’s not going to worry if I take the car home with me at night, is he?” Washington asked.

“No, he’s not,” Wohl said. “You stop worrying. You’re going to be the star of our little operation.”

“Here comes the horse manure again,” Washington said, and walked out of the room.