The Murderers (Badge of Honor 6)

Then he got back in the car and drove rapidly away.

Matt got to his feet, rubbed his hands against his jacket to cleanse them of whatever the hell it was on his hands—the jacket was ruined anyway—and walked back to his car.

He saw what Atchison had stumbled over. A curved automobile bumper.

That which caused that unholy screech and the shower of sparks. With a little bit of luck, Atchison will think that’s why the Porsche is here, and not that I ran over the goddamn thing when I was tailing him.

The Cadillac’s taillights were no longer visible.

What the hell, he’s probably going home anyway.

Matt opened the car door with two fingers, got the keys from the ignition, then opened the hood and took out the jack. It took him fifteen minutes to dislodge the bumper from the car’s underpinnings.

TWENTY

Inspector Peter Wohl was visibly disturbed when he opened the door to his apartment and found Detective Payne standing there.

“What the hell do you want? Are you drunk, or what?”“Atchison threw something I’ll bet is guns in the river,” Matt said.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“In Chester,” Matt said. “I followed him.”

“You did what? What the hell gave you the idea you had that authority?”

“He met Frankie, Frankie gave him a package, and Atchison threw it in the river in Chester.”

“I’ll want to hear all about this, Detective Payne, but not here, and not when you’re obviously shitfaced. I’ll see you in my office at eight o’clock.”

The door slammed in Detective Payne’s face. He waited a moment and then started down the stairs. He was halfway down when light told him the door had reopened. He looked over his shoulder.

Amelia Payne, Ph.D., M.D., attired in a terry-cloth bathrobe, stood at the head of the stairs.

“Matt, what happened to you?”

You may be his lady love, but first of all, you are my big sister, who takes care of her little brother.

“Are you drunk?” Amy asked, more in sympathy than moral outrage.

“Not yet.”

“Well, come in here,” Amy said. “What does ‘not yet’ mean?”

“I mean that getting drunk right now seems like a splendid idea, one that I will pursue with enthusiasm, once I have a bath.”

“What is that stuff on you?” Wohl demanded, in curiosity, not sympathy.

“I don’t think I want to find out.”

“Come up here,” Amy ordered.

She is now in her healer-of-mankind role.

Matt climbed the stairs.

“It’s all over you!” Amy announced.

“I’ve noticed.”