Special Operations (Badge of Honor 2)

“I have a theory why you were unable to locate Mr. Williams last night,” Wohl said. “Would you care to hear it?”

“Yes, sir,” McFadden said.

Wohl glared at Jesus Martinez.

“May I infer from your silence that you are not interested in my theory, Officer Martinez?”

“Yes, sir. No, sir. I mean, yes, sir, I’d like to hear your theory.”

“Thank you,” Wohl said. “My theory is that while you, McFadden, and Payne were running around town boozing it up on what you erroneously believed was going to be the taxpayer’s expense, and you, Martinez, were doing—I have no idea what—that Mr. Williams went back to Glengarry Lane and burglarized poor Miss Peebles yet one more time. You did hear about the burglary?”

“Yes, sir,” Martinez said. “Just before we came in here.”

“Miss Peebles is not going to be burglarized again,” Peter Wohl said.

“Yes, sir,” they replied in chorus.

“Would either or both of you be interested to know why I am so sure of that?”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused again.

“Because, from now until we catch the Peebles burglar, or hell freezes over, which ever comes sooner, between sundown and sunup, one of the three of you is going to be parked somewhere within sight and sound of the Peebles residence.”

“Sir,” Martinez protested, “he sees somebody in a car, he’s not going to hit her house again.”

“True,” Wohl said. “That’s the whole point of the exercise.”

“Then how are we going to catch him?” Martinez said.

“I’ll leave that up to you,” Wohl said. “With the friendly advice that since however you were going about that last night obviously didn’t work, that it might be wise to try something else. Are there any questions?”

Both shook their heads no.

Wohl made a gesture with his right hand, which had the fingers balled and the thumb extended. Officers McFadden and Martinez interpreted the gesture to mean that they were dismissed and should leave.

When they were gone, and the door had been closed after them, Captain Michael J. Sabara, who had been sitting quietly on the couch, now quietly applauded.

“Very good, Inspector,” he said.

“I used to be a Highway Corporal,” Wohl said. “You thought I’d forgotten how to eat a little ass?”

“They’re good kids,” Sabara said.

“Yes, they are,” Wohl said. “And I want to keep them that way. Reining them in a little when they first get here is probably going to prevent me from having to jump on them with both feet a little down the pike.”

EIGHTEEN

“What we’re going to do,” Officer Jesus Martinez said, turning to Officer Charles McFadden as they stood at the urinals in the Seventh District POLICE PERSONNEL ONLY men’s room, “is give your rich-kid rookie buddy the midnight-to-sunup shift.”

“What are you pissed at him for?” Charley McFadden asked.

“You dumb shit! Where do you think Wohl heard that you two were boozing it up last night?”

“We wasn’t boozing it up last night,” McFadden argued.

“Tell that to Wohl,” Martinez said, sarcastically.

“If we make him work from midnight, then who’s going to be staking out the house from sunset to midnight? Somebody’s going to have to be there.”