“Joe tells me you got the sales slip for the camera in New York?” Coughlin asked Matt.
“Yes, sir. Henry Ford of Detroit, Michigan, himself bought it.”
“You might call out there and see if they have something similar. Maybe there is a Detroit connection.”
“I’ve already done that, sir,” Matt said, and added, to Washington, “I gave a Hom
icide sergeant there your number. I didn’t have any other direct Homicide number.”
Washington nodded.
“How did you do at Halligan’s Pub?” he asked.
“The bartender said she was looking for Mr. Right to come riding in on a white horse,” Matt replied. “That so far as he knew, she didn’t play around. We left him cards to pass out to anybody who might know anything, specifically including the names of the guys Mother got from Mrs. Williamson.”
" ’Mother’?” Coughlin asked.
“I call Detective Lassiter that to remind myself this beautiful female is Detective Lassiter, and that sergeants aren’t supposed to notice the beautiful part.”
There was laughter and chuckles.
“Good thinking, Sergeant,” Coughlin said, smiling broadly.
Goddamn him!
Does he really think I’m beautiful?
“What we’re doing now, Lassiter,” Wohl said, “is waiting for another beautiful woman-”
“You’ll notice he used the word ’beautiful,’ ” Coughlin interrupted, “which suggests that war of the sexes is in the armistice mode.”
Wohl flashed him an angry look. The others chuckled.
“-Dr. Payne,” Wohl continued, “who has graciously agreed to provide her take on the Williamson doer.”
“Where is she?” Matt said.
“Where else, Matt? At the hospital. We were on our way here when her phone buzzed.”
What’s going on here? Is Inspector Wohl in a relationship with Matt’s sister? They had a fight, and everybody knows about it? That maybe they fight all the time?
“What did Amy give you so far?” Matt asked.
“Why don’t we wait and get it from her?” Wohl said.
“In the meantime,” Washington said, “we may have, using the term ‘lead’ in the broadest possible sense, finally come up with a lead in the Roy Rogers job.”
“Jason looked under the rock under the rock again,” Coughlin said, approvingly.
“The witness neglected to tell us,” Washington went on, “that the miscreant presently known, for lack of more precise information, as ‘the fat guy’ was wearing a visor-a crownless baseball cap, so to speak-when he sat down at the booth by the kitchen door. He was not wearing it when he left the scene.”
“How do we know that?” Olivia asked.
Washington’s look showed that he did not like to be interrupted.
And Matt told me to keep my mouth shut!
“While O’Hara’s digital image does not show the faces of the malefactors, Mother, it does offer rather sharp silhouettes of their heads. No visor-the witness said he was wearing the visor to the rear, over his neck-was visible fore or aft.”