The Investigators (Badge of Honor 7)

“It’s some kind of mistake, baby,” Tim said.

What did the uniform say? Misprision? What the fuck is misprision?

“Do you understand your rights as I have outlined them to you?” The first cop asked.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Timmy said. “Look, I’m a cop, I don’t know what the hell is going on here.”

“You’re being arrested for being a dirty cop, Calhoun,” a voice—somehow familiar—said.

The uniform who had spun him around to cuff him now spun him around again.

Jesus Martinez, onetime plainclothes narc, was standing there looking at him with contempt.

“What the hell is going on here, Jesus?”

“You’re on your way to the slam, big time,” Martinez said. “I’ll need your badge and your gun.”

“Timmy, for Christ’s sake,” Monica wailed. “Why are they doing this to you?”

One more uniform and two guys in civilian clothing came around the side of the house. Tim recognized the big guy first. Charley McFadden, who had also been a plainclothes narc—the other half of Mutt & Jeff, which is what everybody had called the two of them.

The other wasn’t nearly as familiar, and it took a moment for Tim to recognize him.

It’s that hotshot from Special Operations, Payne. The guy who shot the serial rapist. The last time I saw him was in the Roundhouse parking lot.

“I’m really sorry about this, Timmy,” McFadden said. “Jesus, how could you be so stupid?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Tim said.

“He didn’t do anything!” Monica wailed. “Charley, he’s a good cop! You know that!”

“I know he’s not a good cop, Monica,” Charley said. “He’s dirty, and he got caught.”

“Charley, what are they talking abou

t?” Monica asked.

“Call the FOP in Philly and tell them I was just arrested,” Tim said.

“Where are they taking you?”

“He’ll be in the detention cell in Harrisburg police headquarters for a while, Mrs. Calhoun,” Matt Payne said. “They can contact him there.”

“Who the hell are you?” Monica snapped.

“My name is Payne. I’m a detective assigned to the Special Operations Division. I’m sorry about this, Mrs. Calhoun.”

“Yeah, you look like you’re sorry!”

“I’m going to be at the bank,” Matt said to Charley McFadden. “As soon as I have the safe-deposit box, I’ll meet you at police headquarters.”

“Right,” McFadden said.

“Have you got his gun and his badge?”

“Not yet,” Martinez said.

“If you would give me the key to the safe-deposit box, Calhoun, you’d save everybody a lot of time and inconvenience.”