The Vigilantes (Badge of Honor 10)

Payne shook his head and said, “Because they were all dropped, one per week beginning back on September sixteenth, at the nearest police district HQ. Correction. At a police district HQ. ‘Nearest’ is speculative on my part. Reason being: Why would you drive around with a dead body farther than necessary?”

There were chuckles.

“Stranger things have occurred, Matthew,” Jason Washington offered.

Payne nodded. “I know. Anyway, the other consistency among these first five pop-and-drops is that they each had their Wanted poster attached to them.”

“Their Wanted poster?” Coughlin repeated.

“Yes, sir. Like the ones we post on the police department website? Nice color mug shot with their full name and aliases, last known address, crimes committed, et cetera.”

Coughlin nodded, motioning with his hand for Matt to go on.

Payne said: “Two of the five—both rapists—were printed from our Special Victims Unit page on the Internet. The rest were from the listing of Megan’s Law fugitives on O’Hara’s CrimeFreePhilly-dot-com.”

“That’s Mickey’s?” Coughlin asked, his face brightening.

“That’s where he went after he quit the Bulletin,” Payne said.

“It’s had some growing pains,” Coughlin said, “but what I’ve seen I’ve mostly liked. Anyway, continue.”

For a moment, Payne was impressed that Coughlin paid attention to the Internet. But then he realized it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. Coughlin was smart as hell, and while he could be old school, he was also always embracing whatever might aid him in his duties.

With maybe one exception: Denny Coughlin had told Matt he wasn’t crazy about carrying the new department-issued Glock 17 semiautomatic 9-millimeter pistol. Mariana had successfully lobbied the city for the cops to have more firepower than the .38-caliber revolvers they’d carried almost since the Ice Age—Philly’s first foot patrol began in the late 1600s.

And he said Coughlin needed to carry the Glock “to set an example.”

Denny, who had never drawn his service weapon his entire career, didn’t think he needed on his hip what he called “a small cannon”—and especially not one of the Alternative Service Weapons, Glock models chambered for .40-caliber and .45-caliber rounds that were more powerful than the 9 millimeter. But he followed the order nonetheless.

Payne went on: “Each dead guy had his rap sheet stapled to him. Usually to the clothing. But on one bad guy—a really despicable bastard, on the run from a charge of raping a ten-year-old girl—the doer stapled the Wanted poster multiple times to the guy’s wang.”

There were groans.

“Jesus!” Hollaran exclaimed.

Coughlin, now somber-faced, shook his head. “Could’ve been worse. I worked a case maybe two decades ago where a guy who thought that he quietly—and successfully—had ratted out a mobster was found dead on his front porch for all the world to see.”

“That’s worse?” Payne said.

“In his mouth, looking like a droopy third eye, was his severed penis.”

There was a mix of grunts and chuckles from the group.

“So,” Payne then said, “those are the ones I’ve been trying to connect the dots on. I have more details on each one.”

“Not for now, thanks,” Coughlin said.

Payne looked at Harris and said, “Tony knows about last night’s batch.”

Coughlin said, “Detective, it appears you have the floor.” He looked at his watch. “And a little less than ten minutes.”

“Yes, sir. As Matt said, all the dead are male adults. We got the call on the first two—Danny Gartner and his longtime client?”

Coughlin grunted derisively. “I know who Gartner was. No great loss to mankind there.”

Harris went on: “That call came in at precisely ten-oh-two last night, and the call on the third guy at twelve-twelve this morning.

“Both Gartner—white male, age fifty-five—and John ‘Jay-Cee’ Nguyen—Asian male, age twenty-five—were shot point-blank at the base of the skull”—Tony mimed the shooting with his hand again, as he’d done at Liberties Bar—“with a large-bore round. We believe it was a Glock .45 caliber, as a shiny spent casing—with ‘.45 GAP’ for Glock Automatic Pistol stamped on the base—was found behind Gartner’s office. Cause of death, though, may not be by gunshot. Both men had their mouth and nose wrapped with clear plastic packing tape, and both also had a plastic garbage bag covering the head and taped tightly at the neck. The same tape was used to bind both men at their ankles and wrists.”