The Murderers (Badge of Honor 6)

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe the Department wouldn’t be in trouble if you let the people who are supposed to run it actually run it?”

“You know I love the Department, Matt,” the Mayor said. “Everything I try to do is for the good of the Department.”

“Like I said, make Peter Wohl chief of detectives. He’s already investigating everything but recovered stolen vehicles. Jesus, you even sent the Payne kid in to spy on Homicide.”

“I sent the Payne kid over there to piss you off. I was already upset about these goddamned scumbags Cazerra and Meyer, and then you give me an argument about your detective who got caught screwing his wife’s sister, and whose current girlfriend is probably involved in shooting her husband.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“I wish I did know it.”

Lowenstein looked at the Mayor and then shook his head.

“That’s what Augie Wohl said. And Sarah said it, too. That you did that just to piss me off.”

“And it worked, didn’t it?” the Mayor said, pleased. “Better than I hoped.”

“You sonofabitch, Jerry,” Lowenstein said.

“Augie and Sarah are only partly right. Pissing you off wasn’t the only thing I had in mind.”

“What else?”

“I gave Ethical Affairs to Peter Wohl for political considerations, and even if you don’t like the phrase, I have to worry about it. Peter’s Mr. Clean in the public eye, the guy who put Judge Moses Findermann away. I needed something for the newspapers besides ‘Internal Affairs is conducting an investigation of these allegations.’ Christ, can’t you see that? The papers, especially the Ledger, are always crying ‘Police cover-up!’ If I said that Internal Affairs was now investigating something they should have found out themselves, what would that look like?”

Chief Lowenstein granted the point, somewhat unwillingly, with a shrug.

“What’s that got to do with Payne, sending him in to spy on Homicide?”

“Same principle. His picture has been all over the papers. Payne is the kind of cop the public wants. It’s like TV and the movies. A good-looking young cop kills the bad guys and doesn’t steal money.”

There was a faint suggestion of a smile on Lowenstein’s lips.

“So I figured if I send Payne to spend some time at Homicide (a) he can’t really do any harm over there and (b) if it turns out your man who can’t keep his dick in his pocket and/or the widow—and get pissed if you want, Matt, but that wouldn’t surprise me a bit if that’s the way it turns out—had something to do with Kellog getting himself shot, then what the papers have is another example of one of Mr. Clean’s hotshots cleaning up the Police Department.”

“I talked to Wally Milham, Jerry. I’ve seen enough killers and been around enough cops to know a killer and/or a lying cop when I see one. He didn’t do it.”

“Maybe he didn’t, but if she had something to do with it, and he’s been fucking her, which is now common knowledge, it’s the same thing. You talk to her?”

“No,” Lowenstein said.

“Maybe you should,” the Mayor said.

“You’re not listening to me. I’m going out. I’m going to move to some goddamned place at the shore and walk up and down the beach.”

“We haven’t even got around to talking about that.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“You haven’t even heard my offer.”

“I don’t want to hear your goddamned offer.”

“How do you know until you hear it?”

“Jesus Christ, can’t you take no for an answer?”

“No. Not with you. Not when the Department needs you.”