Captain Charles D. Emerson walked over to Staff Inspector Peter Wohl, who had entered the room just as the roll call started.
“How are you, Peter?” he said, putting out his hand. “Or is this an occasion when I should call you Inspector?”
Staff Inspector Wohl had no authority whatever over the Fourteenth Police District, and both of them knew it. But he was a Staff Inspector, and he was the new commander of the new Special Operations Division, and no one, including Captain Emerson, had any idea what kind of clout went with the title.
“I hope I didn’t get in the way, Charley,” Wohl said, shaking Emerson’s hand.
“Don’t be silly. Distinguished visitors are always welcome at my roll calls.”
Wohl chuckled. He knew the roll call ritual had been a bit more formal than usual, because of his presence.
“Bullshit, Charley,” Wohl said, smiling at him.
“What can I do for you, Peter?” Emerson smiled back.
“You want the truth?”
“When all else fails, sometimes that helps.”
“I’m covering my ass, Charley. This Peebles woman has friends in high places.”
“So Commissioner Czernick has led me to believe,” Emerson said, dryly. “He’s been on the phone to me, too.”
“So now both of us can tell him, if he asks, and I think he will, that you and I are coordinating our resources to bring Miss Peebles’s burglar to the bar of justice.”
Emerson chuckled.
“That’s all, Peter?”
“I have the Woodham job. The Northwest rapist. Did you hear?”
“Czernick must like you.”
“Czernick, hell. Carlucci.”
“Ouch.”
“I was hoping…maybe something turned up here?”
“I can’t think of a thing. Peter. But come on in the office, and we’ll call in the watch commander and whoever and kick it around over a cup of coffee.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve got another roll call to make. Special Operations’ first roll call. But call me, or better Jason Washington or Tony Harris—use the Highway Commander’s number to get them—if you think of anything, will you?”
“They’re working for you?” Emerson asked, surprised.
“Somewhat reluctantly.”
“You must have some clout to get them transferred to you.”
“I think the word is ‘rope,’ Charley. As in ‘he now has enough rope to hang himself.’”
Captain Emerson’s eyebrows rose thoughtfully. He did not offer even a pro forma disagreement.
“Say hello to your dad for me when you see him, will you, Peter?” he said.
Fifteen minutes later, Wohl walked into the Roll Call Room at Bustleton and Bowler. He had arrived just in time for the roll call. Captains Pekach and Sabara, and Detectives Washington and Harris, were already in the room, and ultimately, sixteen other police officers came into the room and formed into two ranks.
The sixteen newcomers were a Sergeant, a Corporal, a Detective, and thirteen Police Officers who had reported for duty to the Special Operations Division that morning, and been directed to the Roll Call Room by Sergeant Frizell when they walked in the door.