The Witness (Badge of Honor 4)

And thank you, Farnsworth Stillwell. I was just about to say, “It must be nice to be rich,” and that would have been a dumb thing to say.

“I think Martha’s about to serve dinner,” Pekach said.

“This won’t take long,” Stillwell said.

Wohl went to the bar, poured more Scotch into his glass, and added a little water. By then Pekach had left the library and closed the door after himself.

“Now there’s a man who knows what to do with an opportunity,” Stillwell said, nodding toward the door through which Pekach had left.

“How do you mean?”

“Unless she is smart enough to get an airtight premarital agreement, and floating on the wings of love as she is at the moment, I rather doubt if she will be, your man Pekach is shortly going to be co-owner of half the anthracite coal in Northeast Pennsylvania.”

I will be on my good behavior. I will not get into it with this cynical wiseass sonofabitch.

“It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”

“Don’t misunderstand me, Peter,” Stillwell said. “I like Dave Pekach, and I admire people who take advantage of opportunities that come their way.”

Wohl smiled and nodded.

What is this sonofabitch up to?

“Tomorrow morning, Peter, the governor will hold a press conference at which he will appoint a new deputy attorney general for corporate crime. Nice ring to that, isn’t there? ‘Corporate crime.’ Everybody knows that the men in corporate boardrooms are robbing the poor people blind. I thought it was one of the governor’s brighter moves recently, figuring out for himself that there are more poor people voting than people in corporate boardrooms. I told him so.”

“I’m missing something here?”

“A brilliant gumshoe like you? I just can’t believe that, Peter.”

“I’m not much good at games, either, Farnsworth.”

“Okay. The facts and nothing but the facts, right, Sergeant Friday? I am going to be the deputy attorney general for corporate crime.”

“Well, in that case, congratulations,” Peter said, and put out his hand.

“And you are going to be the new chief investigator for the deputy attorney general for corporate crime,” Stillwell went on.

“I am?”

“Starting at a salary that’s ten, maybe twelve thousand more than you’re making now.”

He means this! He’s absolutely goddamn serious! And he’s looking at me as if he expects me to get down on one knee and kiss his ring.

“Farnsworth, why would you want me to work for you?”

“Very simple answer. I don’t know the first goddamn thing about corporate crime. And you do. There doesn’t seem to be much question that you are the best white-collar crime investigator in Philadelphia. Your record proves that. If you can do that in Philadelphia, you certainly can do it elsewhere in Pennsylvania. I want the best, and you’re it.”

There is a certain element of truth in that, he understands, with overwhelming immodesty.

“When did all this come up?”

“Yesterday and today. What absolutely perfect timing, wouldn’t you say?”

“Perfect timing for what?”

“This Islamic Liberation Army thing is just about to blow up in our faces.”

“Is it? I’m a little dense. The doers are in jail. We have a witness. And you’re going to prosecute.”