“They’re not classified as firearms, Mr. Mayor,” Wohl said. “So they’re available on the open market. I called Colosimo’s. They said they didn’t have any, never had, but they had heard that a place in Camden had them, and some store in Bucks County. I’ve got people checking that out.”
“How do we know Monahan was shot by a cop?” the mayor asked.
“We don’t. Mrs. Monahan said that she saw a police officer take a gun from his coat—”
“These things look like guns?”
“I don’t know, sir. I’ve never seen one.”
“In dim light, or if you don’t know all that much about guns,” Coughlin said, “it would look, maybe, to Mrs. Monahan, like a gun.”
“Do they make any noise? Where do they get the electricity to shock you?”
“They go ‘splat,’” Coughlin said. “Or like that. Not like a .38.”
“Like a .22, Chief?” Wohl asked.
“Something. Sure. It could be mistaken for a .22.”
“Mrs. Monahan said it sounded like a .22,” Wohl said.
“Why would they use something like this?”
“So there wouldn’t be the sound of a gun going off,” Lowenstein said.
“If it makes as much noise as a .22, then why not use a .22?” the mayor asked. He did not wait for a reply, but asked another question: “What is it, Peter? The guy who shot Monahan with this thing, the people in the car, were they cops or not?”
“They had an RPC, Mr. Mayor. An unmarked RPC.”
“How do we know that? And if so, where did they get it?”
“We don’t know. But Washington said, and I think he’s right, that if it wasn’t an RPC, I mean if it was just a similar Ford, the cop who walked past it would have picked up on that, e
ither consciously or subconsciously: The tires would have been wrong, it wouldn’t have had an antenna, or the right antenna—”
“So if it was a bona fide car, that makes it look as if a cop, cops, were the doers, doesn’t it?” Carlucci interrupted.
“That sounds entirely credible,” Wohl said. “As to where it came from, it probably came out of the parking lot at Bustleton and Bowler.”
The mayor turned to Lowenstein and pointed a finger at him.
“I want those bastards, Matt!”
“Yes, sir,” Lowenstein said softly, coldly, “so do I.”
Carlucci turned back to Wohl. “What I’m thinking now is that it would be best, until he can give some real thought to your replacement, that we have Mike Sabara fill in for you. Is there something wrong with that?”
“No, sir. Sabara is a good man.”
“Is there some way you can put off going to Harrisburg for a day or two? I’d like you to be available to Lowenstein.”
“I’m not going to Harrisburg,” Wohl said.
Carlucci looked at him in surprise, and then the look seemed to turn to anger.
“That’s strange, Peter,” he said. “Not half an hour ago, your pal Farnsworth Stillwell was on the phone. He wanted to be sure there would be no hard feelings about you going with him. He said you really didn’t want to go, and that to get you he had to offer you a hell of a lot of money.”
“I saw him last night. He offered me a job as his chief investigator. I told him I’d have to think it over, and I’d get back to him before he had his press conference this morning.”