“I told her not to. What’s on your mind, Mr. Mayor?”
“I want to know what the hell this is all about.”
Lowenstein raised his eyes to look at the Mayor.
“OK,” he said. “What it’s all about is that you don’t need a chief of detectives you don’t trust.”
“Who said I don’t trust you? For God’s sake, we go back a long way together, twenty-five years, at least. Of course I trust you.”
“That’s why you’re running your own detective squad, right? And you didn’t tell me about it because you trust me? Bullshit, Jerry, you don’t trust me. My character or my professional competence.”
“That’s bullshit!”
“And I don’t have to take your bullshit, either. I’m not Taddeus Czernich. I’ve got my time on the job. I don’t need it, in other words.”
“What are you pissed off about? What happened at that goddamned party? Matt, for Christ’s sake, I was upset.”
“You were a pretty good cop, Jerry. Not as good as you think you were, but good. But that doesn’t mean that nobody else in the Department is as smart as you, or as honest. I’m as good a cop, probably better—I never nearly got thrown out of the Department or indicted—than you ever were. So let me put it another way. I’m sick of your bullshit, I don’t have to put up with it, and I don’t intend to. I’m out.”
“Come on, Matt!”
“I’m out,” Lowenstein repeated flatly. “Find somebody else to push around. Make Peter Wohl Chief of Detectives. You really already have.”
“So that’s it. You’re pissed because I gave Wohl Ethical Affairs?”
“That whole Ethical Affairs idea stinks. Internal Affairs, a part of the Detective Bureau, is supposed to find dirty cops. And by and large, they do a pretty good job of it.”
“Not this time, they didn’t,” the Mayor said.
“I was working on it. I was getting close.”
“There are political considerations,” the Mayor said.
“Yeah, political considerations,” Lowenstein said bitterly.
“Yeah, political considerations,” Carlucci said. “And don’t raise your nose at them. You better hope I get reelected, or you’re liable to have a mayor and a police commissioner you’d really have trouble with.”
“We don’t have a police commissioner now. We have a parrot.”
“That’s true,” the Mayor said. “But he ta
kes a good picture, and he doesn’t give you any trouble. Admit it.”
“An original thought and a cold drink of water would kill the Polack,” Lowenstein said.
“But he doesn’t give you any trouble, does he, Matt?” the Mayor persisted.
“You give me the goddamned trouble. Gave me. Past tense. I’m out.”
“You can’t quit now.”
“Watch me.”
“The Department’s in trouble. Deep trouble. It needs you. I need you.”
“You mean you’re in trouble about getting yourself reelected.”
“If I don’t get reelected, then the Department will be in even worse trouble.”