The Murderers (Badge of Honor 6)

“Neither does my father,” Tiny said. “He said it’s two-to-one it’s something to do with Narcotics. Heading the long list of things I was absolutely forbidden to do when I came on the job was accept an assignment to Narcotics. He said those guys roll around on the pigsty floor so much, and there’s so much money floating around that he’s not surprised how many of them are dirty, but how many are straight.”

“Charley and the Little Spic were undercover narcs, and so was Captain Pekach. They’re straight.”

“The exceptions that prove the rule,” Tiny said. “So what do we do today?”

“I don’t know what you’re going to do, but I’m going out to Chestnut Hill in half an hour. Jesus, I hate to face that! The funeral is this afternoon.”

“You mean, we’re going to Chestnut Hill. I have heard my master’s voice, and it said I’m not to let you out of my sight.”

“Family and intimate friends only,” Matt said. “I think it will be my family, the Detweilers, and the Nesbitts. And that’s it.”

“So what do I tell Wohl, since the riffraff aren’t welcome?”

“I’ll call him.”

“Matt, I don’t mind feeling unwelcome. With a suntan like mine, you get pretty used to it. If I can help some way…”

“You’d make a lousy situation worse, Tiny, but thanks,” Matt said. He got up from the table and started toward the telephone, then stopped. He touched Tiny’s shoulder, and Tiny looked up at him. “I appreciate that, pal,” Matt said.

“Somehow saying I’m sorry about what happened doesn’t seem to be enough.”

Matt picked up the telephone and dialed Wohl’s home number. When there was no answer, he called the headquarters of the Special Operations Division to see if, as he often did, Wohl had come to work early. When Wohl’s private line was not answered by the fifth ring, the call was automatically transferred to the line of the tour lieutenant.

“Special Operations, Lieutenant Suffern.”

“Matt Payne, sir. Have you got a location on the Inspector?”

“Yeah. I got a number. Just a minute, Matt,” Lieutenant Suffern said, and then his voice changed: “Matt, I was sorry to hear…”

“Thank you.”

“If there’s anything I can do?”

“I can’t think of a thing, but thank you. I appreciate the thought.”

“Here it is,” Suffern said, “One-thirty A.M. this morning until further notice.” He then read Matt the telephone number at which Inspector Wohl could be reached.

A look of mingled amusement and annoyance flickered across Matt’s face. The number he had been given was familiar to him. It was the one number in Greater Philadelphia where calling Inspector Wohl at this time would be a very bad idea indeed. It was that of the apartment of his sister, Amelia Payne, M.D., Ph.D.

“Thank you, sir.”

“When you feel up to it, Matt, we’ll go hoist a couple.”

“Thank you,” Matt said. “I’d like to.”

Matt hung up and turned to Tiny, a smile crossing his face at his own wit.

“Wohl can’t be reached right now,” he said. “He’s at the doctor’s.”

“So what do we do?”

“When all else fails, tell the truth,” Matt said. “You go to the schoolhouse and when Wohl shows up you tell him I said ‘Thank you, but no thank you, I don’t want any company.’”

“I don’t know, Matt,” Tiny said dubiously. “Wohl wasn’t making a suggestion. He told me to sit on you.”

“Oh, shit,” Matt said, and dialed Amy’s number.

“Dr. Payne is not available at this time,” her answering machine reported. “If you will leave your name and number, she will return your call as soon as possible. Please wait for the tone. Thank you.”