“Maybe I’m just carried away with the Jason Washington style of psychological interrogation—but I was thinking this before he called just now.”
Wohl waited for him to go on.
“Let’s say I’m right. For whatever reasons, we can’t tie Calhoun to the safe-deposit box, but we arrest him anyway. Matt would arrest him anyway, on the warrant here. This guy is not stupid. He’s not going to say a word until he talks to a lawyer, and he’ll figure out that if we had something on him about the safe-deposit box, we would have used it.”
“I don’t see where you’re going, Chief,” Wohl said.
“And Matt has no idea what’s happened here,” Coughlin said.
“So?”
“McFadden and Martinez go to Harrisburg now, with the warrant. They’re with Matt when Lieutenant Deitrich tells Matt what, if anything, he’s come up with. If zilch, finding the black cloud, Deitrich has the Harrisburg police pick up Calhoun. After he’s been in the holding pen an hour or so, here come McFadden and Martinez—who used to be undercover narcs themselves, and who Calhoun knows. That should upset Calhoun a little. McFadden and Martinez transport Calhoun here, and en route, they convince him how much trouble he’s in. I would like to have Officer Calhoun in a very disturbed state of mind when Washington talks to him.”
“That makes sense,” Wohl said.
“And it leaves Matt in Harrisburg,” Coughlin said. “I figure we owe Davis that.”
“Martinez and McFadden will be curious about that,” Wohl said. “If Matt doesn’t come back with them.”
“Yeah. Let me think about that,” Coughlin said. “But let’s suppose we get lucky again, and Deitrich can tie Calhoun to the safe-deposit box, and there’s something in it. Same scenario, in spades. Calhoun will know we have him, and then spending two hours, handcuffed, in the back of McFadden’s car on the way to Philadelphia, while those two inform him of all the nice things that are going to happen to him in the slam, and Calhoun will beg Jason for a chance to tell him everything he knows.”
“That makes sense, Chief,” Wohl said.
“So why will Matt stay in Harrisburg? To tie up loose ends? It’s none of their business?”
“When all else fails, tell as little of the truth as possible,” Wohl said. “Matt is working on another case. Not specified. None of their business.”
“I’m a little afraid of that,” Coughlin said. “You ever hear ‘a little knowledge is a dangerous thing’?”
“You mean, tell them everything?”
Coughlin nodded.
“Yeah. I think that would be safer in the long run. And have them bring Matt up-to-date on what’s happened here.”
“Including the rape? The connection to Savarese?”
“I don’t like that, frankly. But I’m at the stage where I don’t know who knows what. That’s a bad situation, Peter. I can’t see where these three knowing everything is going to cause any trouble, and I can see something going wrong if they don’t. You agree?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Because you agree, or because you’re afraid to disagree?”
“A little of both,” Wohl said.
“Okay. Decision’s made. Get them in here, tell them everything, and send them to Harrisburg.”
Wohl reached for one of the telephones on his desk, punched a button, and told Officer Tiny Lewis, who answered the Investigations Section telephone, to send Detectives McFadden and Martinez to his office right away.
It was five minutes to seven when Detective Charles McFadden pulled his unmarked Plymouth up in front of the Penn-Harris Hotel.
He looked at Detective Jesus Martinez.
“I think we just broke the Philadelphia-Harrisburg speed record,” he said.
“Oh, shit!” Detective Martinez replied.
“I mean it, Jesus,” Charley said. “I mean, think about it. Who else has a chance to come all the way from Philly out here to the sticks like we did and fuck the speed limit?”