A real pol, Wohl thought. Wohl did not ordinarily like politicians, but he was of mixed emotions about Callis. He had worked closely with him during his investigation—
In those happy, happy, days when I was just one more staff inspector—
—of Judge Findermann and his fellow scumbags, and had concluded that Callis was deeply offended by the very notion of a judge on the take, and interested in the prosecution for that reason alone, not simply because it might look good for him in the newspapers.
“And Peter,” Callis went on, “looking the fashion plate even at this un-godly hour.”
“Good morning, Mr. Callis.”
“Tommy! Tommy! How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“Tommy,” Wohl said obediently.
“Detective D’Amata I know, of course, but I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure—”
“Detective Jerry Pelosi,” Lowenstein offered, “of Central Detectives.”
“Well, I’m delighted to meet you, Jerry,” Callis said, sounding as if he meant it, and pumping his hand.
Callis turned and faced the others, beaming as if just seeing them gave him great pleasure.
“Well, let’s get on with this, whatever it is,” he said. “Are we all going in, Matt?”
“Why not?” Lowenstein said, after a just perceptible pause. “Mahoney knows when to keep his mouth shut, don’t you, Mahoney?”
“Yes, of course he does,” Callis said. “Well then, come on in. Anybody want some coffee?”
“I would kill for a cup of coffee,” Wohl said.
“Figuratively speaking, of course, Peter?”
“Don’t get between me and the pot,” Wohl replied.
“Black, Inspector?” Mahoney asked.
“Please,” Wohl said.
“My time is your time, Matt, providing this doesn’t last more than thirty minutes,” Callis said.
“You heard about the Goldblatt job?” Lowenstein asked.
“You mean the—what was it?—‘Islamic Liberation Army’? It was all over the tube. The Ledger even ran a photo of their press release on the front page of the second section. Who the hell are these nuts, Matt?”
“Between Pelosi and D’Amata we have a pretty good idea who they are,” Lowenstein said.
“Good idea or names?”
“Names. On almost all of them, anyway.”
“Witnesses?”
“There were twenty-odd people in Goldblatt’s,” Lowenstein replied.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“We have one good witness,” Lowenstein said carefully. “A Goldblatt employee. Worked like sort of a doorman. Albert J. Monahan. Pelosi showed him pictures and he positively identified all of them.”
“A moment ago you said there were twenty-odd people in Goldblatt’s.”