I’ll be a sonofabitch. He rehearsed that little speech. That’s what he planned to say to me to see if I would stand still for whatever he wants. It was supposed to be delivered before he went to see Czernich and Carlucci.
“Whatever I can do, Commissioner.”
I say nobly, aware that I have absolutely no option to do or say anything else.
“I knew I could count on you, Peter. What I’m going to do is send Jack over to you—”
Shit! But what else did I expect?
“—and have Tony Lucci transferred to Jack’s job on the Auto Squad in Major Crimes.”
Lieutenant Anthony J. Lucci, who had been Mayor Carlucci’s driver as a sergeant, had been sent to Special Operations on his promotion to lieutenant. It was a reward for a job well done, which by possibly innocent coincidence gave His Honor the Mayor a window on the inner workings of Special Operations, reports delivered daily.
Every black cloud has a silver lining. I get rid of Lucci. What’s that going to cost me? Is he telling the truth about Malone not having a bottle problem, or am I going to have to nurse a drunk?
“Now, I have no intention of trying to tell you how to run your division, Peter, or what to do with Jack Malone when you get him—”
But?
“—but if you could find something constructive for him to do that would keep him from thinking he’s been assigned to the rubber-gun squad, I would be personally grateful.”
“So far as I’m concerned, Commissioner, even after what you’ve told me, Jack Malone is a good cop, and I’ll find something worthwhile for him to do.”
“What was Lucci doing?”
“He’s my administrative officer. He also makes sure the mayor knows what’s going on.”
Cohan looked s
harply at Wohl, pursed his lips thoughtfully for a moment, and then said, “So I’ve heard. Jack won’t feel any obligation to do that, Peter.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Your father is in good spirits, isn’t he?” Cohan said. “I had a pleasant chat with him a couple of minutes ago.”
Our little chat is apparently over.
“I think he’d go back on the job tomorrow, if someone asked him.”
“The grass is not as green as it looked?”
“I think he’s bored, sir.”
“He was active all his life,” Cohan said. “That’s understandable.”
Cohan pushed himself out of the seat and extended his hand.
“Thank you, Peter,” he said. “I knew I could count on you.”
“Anytime, Commissioner.”
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