Special Operations (Badge of Honor 2)

“No,” Wohl said. “‘Being on the take’ means accepting goods or services, or money, in exchange for ignoring criminal activity. Vincenzo Savarese knows that I would like nothing better than to put him behind bars; and that, as a matter of fact, before they dumped this new job in my lap, I was trying very hard to do just that.”

“Then why does he pick up your restaurant bills?” Amy asked.

“Who knows? The Mob is weird. They operate as if they were still in Sicily or Naples, with a perverted honor code. He thinks he’s a ‘man of honor,’ and thinks I am, too. He thought Dutch Moffitt was, too. Mrs. Savarese and her sister went to his funeral. The wake, too, I think, and when Dutch, before he went to Highway, was in Organized Crime, he tried very hard to lock Savarese up.”

Amy decided she was talking too much, and needed time to consider what she had just heard.

The waiter and two busboys, with great élan, served the tournedos Alfredo and the side dishes. Amy took four bites of the steak, then curiosity got the best of her.

“And it doesn’t offend your sense of right and wrong to take free meals from a gangster?” she asked.

“Come on, Amy!” Matt protested again.

“No,” Wohl said, making a gesture with his hand toward Matt to show that since he didn’t mind the question, Matt should not be upset. “What I will do in the morning is send a memo to Internal Affairs, reporting that I got a free meal here. As far as taking it—why not? Savarese knows he’ll get nothing in return, and this is first-class food.”

“But you know he’s a gangster,” Amy argued.

“And he knows I’m a cop, an honest cop,” Wohl countered. “Under those circumstances, if it gives both of us pleasure, what’s wrong with it?”

Amy Payne could think of no withering counterargument, and was furious. Then doubly furious when she saw Matt smiling smugly at her.

Matt glanced at his watch as the pastry cart was wheeled to the table, then jumped to his feet.

“I better get over to the FOP,” he said. “You finish your dinner. I’ll catch a cab. Or run.”

When he was gone, Wohl said, “He’s a very nice young man, soaking wet behind the ears, but very nice.”

“I think I should tell you, Inspector,” Amy said, “that I’m not thrilled with his choice of career.”

“I would be very surprised if you were,” Wohl said. “Your mother must really be upset.”

Damn it, you weren’t supposed to agree with me!

“She is,” Amy said. “I had lunch with her today.”

“I feel a little sorry for myself, too,” Wohl said. “Dennis Coughlin sent him to me, with the unspoken, but very obvious, implication that I am to look after him. I think Coughlin is probably as unhappy as you and your family about his taking the job.”

He looked at her, and when she didn’t reply, added, “He’s twenty-one years old, Dr. Payne. I suspect that he has been very humiliated by having failed the Marine Corps physical. He has decided he wants to be a policeman, and I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do, or could have done to dissuade him.”

I don’t need you to explain that to me, damn you again!

“You don’t agree?” Wohl asked.

“I suppose that’s true,” Amy said. “Where’s he going tonight? What’s the Eff Oh Pee?”

“Fraternal Order of Police,” Wohl said. “They have a building on Spring Garden, just off Broad. He’s meeting two of my men there. They’re going to look for a man we think is connected with a couple of burglaries in Chestnut Hill. I told them to take Matt with them, to give him an idea how things are, on the street.”

“Oh,” she said.

“That chocolate whateveritis looks good,” Wohl said. “Would you like a piece?”

“No, thank you,” Amy snipped. “Nothing for me, thank you.”

“You don’t mind if I do?”

“No, of course not,” Amy said.

Damn this man, he has a skin like an elephant, the smug sonofabitch!