"Jerry O'Dowd, Inspector," his caller said. "I'm calling from the tavern down the corner from our friend's house. He drove straight here, with the suitcase, and took it into the house."
"Good man," Wohl said.
"Oooops, there he comes."
"With the suitcase?"
"No. He doesn't have it. He's changed out of his uniform."
"You're going to stay there, right?"
"Right. He's walking back to his car. But Captain Olsen can see him. No problem."
"Olsen is on him?" Wohl asked, surprised.
"Yes, sir. Olsen won't lose him."
"If anything happens, call this number, they'll know where to get me."
"Yes, sir."
"I'm going to send somebody to back you up," Wohl said. "In case somebody interesting comes to pick up the suitcase."
"Yes, sir."
"Good job, Jerry," Wohl said, and hung up.
If Olsen can work this job himself, why can't I? I'd love to catch Ricco Baltazari or one of his pals walking down Ritner Street with that suitcase in his hand.
Dangerous thought. No!
"Jack, can we get our hands on Tony Harris?"
"Yes, sir."
"Get on the horn to him and tell him to go back up O'Dowd."
"Yes, sir."
"And then turn this over to the duty lieutenant and go home and get some sleep."
"Yes, sir."
"That applies to you too, Detective Payne. With all the jumping from roof to roof, and through windows, you've done today, I'm sure you're worn out. Go home and go to bed. I want you here at eight A.M., bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."
That, to judge by the kicked puppy look in your eyes, was another failed attempt to be jocular.
"Yes, sir."
Or is there something else wrong with him? Something is wrong.
"Jack, you want to go somewhere for a nightcap?" Wohl asked. "The reason I am being so generous is that I just took forty bucks from my father and Chief Coughlin, who don't play poker nearly as well as they think they do."
"I accept, Inspector. Thank you."
"The invitation includes you, Detective Payne, if you promise not to jump through a window or otherwise embarrass Lieutenant Malone and me."
"Thank you, I'll try to behave."