Coughlin, the then-chief inspector, had solved the problem of what to do with Officers Martinez, McFadden, and Payne by ordering their assignment to Special Operations.
In a private chat with then-Staff Inspector Wohl, he suggested that in his new command Wohl would probably be able to find places where Officers Martinez and McFadden could be useful in plainclothes, and that Officer Payne could probably make himself useful as Wohl’s administrative assistant, until he realized the mistake he had made by coming on the job, and quit and got on with his life.
Wohl had accepted Coughlin’s suggestions with as much alacrity as the commissioner had accepted the mayor’s suggestions. He was wise enough to know that he had very little choice in the matter. His rabbi had spoken.
Finding useful employment for Martinez and McFadden had posed no problem. Wohl had been pleasantly surprised how well they had performed in interviews with suspects. Between them, they had seemed to know when they were not being told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and then one or the other of them had been able to get it.
When they played Good Cop/Bad Cop, Martinez had been very effective as the frightening arm of the law, and McFadden, despite his size, as the kindly young Irishman who understood what had happened and wanted only to help.
Officer Payne had, not surprising Wohl, been an efficient administrative assistant—sort of a male secretary—from the first day. Wohl, who agreed with Chief Coughlin that Payne would leave the job just as soon as he realized that he really belonged in law school, as the next step on the ladder to an eventual partnership in Mawson, Payne, Stockton, McAdoo & Lester, arguably Philadelphia’s most prestigious law firm, was surprised to realize that he was actually going to miss him when he was gone.
When a serial rapist began to operate in the Northwest, and Northwest Detectives had difficulty finding him—and this difficulty was gleefully reported daily in the press—Mayor Carlucci had been very unhappy. When the rapist killed one of his victims, triggering even more scornful journalistic comment, Mayor Carlucci called a press conference and announced that henceforth the investigation would be handled by the newly formed Special Operations Division.
It was good press, but the reality was that Wohl’s Special Operations Division was less qualified to conduct the investigation than Homicide was, and Wohl, who had been a homicide detective, knew it.
Homicide had assigned the two best Homicide detectives, Jason Washington and his partner, Tony Harris, to the job. Wohl, with the assistance of Chief Coughlin, arranged—over their bitter objections—the transfer of Washington and Harris to Special Operations. Once they had reported for duty, Wohl assigned Officer Payne to the job. Payne was told that his duties were to relieve Washington and Harris of as many administrative details as possible, and to report to Wohl at least once a day—more often if necessary—of how the investigation was proceeding.
It was, Wohl thought, a really useful thing for Payne to be doing before he left the job.
It never occurred to Wohl, Washington, or Harris that Payne would do anything but run errands. Everyone understood that despite the badge on his belt and the .38 “Detective’s Special” snub-nosed revolver in his shoulder holster, he wasn’t really on the job.
He was a really nice college boy, and Denny Coughlin’s god-son, and Coughlin had given him to Peter Wohl to sit on, out of harm’s way, until he realized he wasn’t cut out to be a cop.
When Wohl told Coughlin that he had given Payne to Washington and Harris as a gofer, Coughlin had smiled.
“Twenty years from now, he will fondly remember his days as a Homicide officer,” Coughlin said.
Four days after Officer Payne went to work as Washington’s and Harris’s gofer, the following story appeared on page one of the Philadelphia Bulletin:
NORTHWEST SERIAL RAPIST-MURDERER KILLED BY “HANDSOME” SPECIAL OPERATIONS COP AS HE RESCUES KIDNAPPED WOMAN
BY MICHAEL J. O’HARA BULLETIN STAFF WRITER
Officer Matthew Payne, 22, in what Mayor Jerry Carlucci described as an act of “great personal heroism,” rescued Mrs. Naomi Schneider, 34, of the 8800 block of Norwood Street in Chestnut Hill, minutes after she had been abducted at knifepoint from her home by a man the mayor said he is positive is the man dubbed the Northwest Serial Rapist.
The man, tentatively identified as Warren K. Fletcher, 31, of Germantown, had, according to Mrs. Schneider, broken into her luxury apartment as she was preparing for bed. Mrs. Schneider said he was masked and armed with a large butcher knife. She said he forced her to disrobe, then draped her in a blanket and forced her into the rear of his Ford van and covered her with a tarpaulin.
“The next thing I knew,” Mrs. Schneider said, “there was shots, and then breaking glass, and then the van crashed. Then this handsome young cop was looking down at me and smiling and telling me everything was all right, he was a police officer.”
Moments before Officer Payne shot the kidnapper and believed rapist-murderer, according to Mayor Carlucci, the man had attempted to run Payne down with the van, slightly injuring Payne and doing several thousand dollars’ worth of damage to Payne’s personal automobile.
“Payne then, reluctantly,” Mayor Carlucci said, “concluded there was no choice but for him to use deadly force, and he proceeded to do so. Mrs. Schneider’s life was in grave danger and he knew it. I’m proud of him.”
Mayor Carlucci, whose limousine is equipped with police short-wave radios, was en route to his Chestnut Hill home from a Sons of Italy dinner in South Philadelphia when the rescue occurred.
“We were the first car to respond to the ‘shots fired’ call,” the mayor said. “Officer Payne was still helping Mrs. Schneider out of the wrecked van when we got there.”
Payne, who is special assistant to Staff Inspector Peter Wohl, commanding officer of the newly formed Special Operations Division, had spent most of the day in Bucks County, where the mutilated body of Miss Elizabeth Woodham, 33, of 300 East Mermaid Lane, Roxborough, had been discovered by State Police in a summer country cottage.
Miss Woodham was abducted from her apartment three days ago by a masked, knife-wielding man. A Bucks County mail carrier had described a man meeting Mr. Warren K. Fletcher’s description and driving a maroon Ford van, identical to the one in which Mrs. Schneider was abducted, as being at the cottage where her body was discovered. Police all over the Delaware Valley were looking for a similar van.
Payne, who had been assigned to work as liaison between ace Homicide detectives Jason Washington and Anthony Harris and the Special Operations Division, had gone with Washington to the torture-murder scene in Bucks County.
He spotted the van in the early hours of this morning as he drove to the Chestnut Hill residence of Inspector Wohl to make his report before going off duty.
“He carefully appraised the situation before acting, and decided Mrs. Schneider’s very life depended on his acting right then, and alone,” Mayor Carlucci said. “She rather clearly owes her life to him. I like to think that Officer Payne is typical of the intelligent, well-educated young officers with which Commissioner Czernich and I intend to staff the Special Operations Division.”
Payne, who is a bachelor, recently graduated from the University of Pennsylvania. He declined to answer questions from the press.
After that, Chief Coughlin was no longer quite so sure that Officer Payne would soon resign from the police department. And he didn’t.
“Captain,” Sergeant Payne said now, “those two can do anything they’re asked to do.” He looked at Lieutenant McGuire. “I’d really like to have them.”
“Wohl said ‘anything we think we need,’ ” McGuire said. “Let’s see if he meant it.”
He asked permission with his eyes to use Captain Quaire’s telephone. Quaire nodded. McGuire punched in numbers.
“Lieutenant McGuire for Inspector Wohl, please.”
Then he reached to Quaire’s phone and pushed the Speaker button.
Peter Wohl’s
voice came somewhat metallically over the speaker:
“Hey, Gerry, what can I do for you?”
“Inspector, you said I could ask for anything for the Stan Colt job.”
“My toothbrush excepted, ask away.”
“Mutt and Jeff. They on something that won’t wait?”
“When and where do you want them, Gerry?”
“North Philadelphia Airport at three. Tell them to report to Sergeant Payne.”
“They’ll be there.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Any time.”
The line went dead.
“Why don’t you take Lassiter to Northeast Detectives now, and get that over with?” Quaire said.
“Yes, sir.”
“And then I’ll see you at the airport at three,” McGuire said.
“Yes, sir.”
[FOUR]
Matt stood patiently by Olivia’s desk and waited until she finished talking on the telephone.
“I really appreciate that, Lieutenant,” she said. “We really want to get this guy.”
She put the handset in its cradle and looked up at Matt.
“Cincinnati Homicide,” she said. “Nice guy. Nothing that he can think of offhand, but he’s going to check around for me. What’s up?”
“Let’s go out to Northeast and get our statements out of the way,” Matt said.
She didn’t reply, but stood up, and took her purse from the desk drawer, and then waited for him to lead the way out of the office.
In the elevator, she asked, “What was going on in the captain’s office?”
“That was Lieutenant McGuire of Dignitary Protection,” Matt said. “He’s about to protect Stan Colt from his horde of fans.”
“And?”
“I’m going to help him,” Matt said.
“What’s that all about?”
The elevator door opened onto the lobby.
“I’ll tell you later,” he said, and held the keys to the Porsche out to her. “Follow me to my place, and I’ll dump the car there.”
It seemed for a moment as if she was going to object, but she finally took the keys without comment.
Matt drove the unmarked Crown Victoria into the basement garage first, pulled it into one of his slots, and got quickly out to show her where to park the Porsche.
When she opened the door, he was standing there. When she got to her feet, they were so close that he could feel her breath on his face.
He resisted the impulse to put his arms around her, but bent slightly, far enough down to kiss her.
“Oh, God!” she said. “I should have trusted my instincts.”
“About what?”
“About what you had in mind when you handed me the keys.”
“What I had in mind was getting the Porsche out of the Roundhouse lot before it got ticketed or boosted,” he said.
Her face told him she did not believe this at all.
“All the way here, I thought of reasons why I shouldn’t let you kiss me.”
“Which are?”
“I can’t remember,” she said, and they kissed again.
She looked into his eyes.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“Which question would get the desired response,” Matt said. “One, ‘Would you like to see my etchings?’ or two, ‘You want to come upstairs for a minute?’ ”
“You really have etchings?” she asked.
He nodded.
“If we go to your apartment, you know what will happen.”
“I hope I know what will happen.”
“I mean it will take longer than a minute.”
“The way I feel right now, I’m not sure it’ll take as long as a minute.”
“Oh, God!” Olivia said.
Olivia came out of Matt’s bathroom wearing his terry-cloth robe. He thought she looked adorable.
“Well, now we know, don’t we?” she asked.
“Know what?”
“That just beneath my nice girl surface there is a lewd, lascivious, and shameless slut.”
“Come on!”
She walked to the door and began picking her clothing up from the floor.
“I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said I never have behaved like this in my life.”
“Yeah, I would,” he said.
“I don’t believe you, but thank you anyway.”
Matt’s cellular buzzed.
“Don’t answer it!” Olivia ordered.
Matt picked it up.
“Payne,” he said, then, a moment later, “Hold one.”
He shoved the telephone under a pillow on the bed.
“I asked you not to answer that,” Olivia said.
“It was more like an order, but I have worked for Peter Wohl for five years, and have developed an uncontrollable Pavlovian response to my phone ringing: Answer it immediately.”
“That’s Inspector Wohl?”
“No. It’s my regular girlfriend.”
He could tell by her face that she could not quite make up her mind whether to believe him or not.
“You want me to go in the bathroom and give you a little privacy?”
“No. Come and eavesdrop,” he said. “You’ll probably find it interesting.”
She headed for the bathroom.
“Hey!” Matt called. “Here!”
He pointed to the bed.
She didn’t move.
He took the cellular out.
“Detective McFadden,” he said. “It warms the cockles of my heart to hear your voice.”
He pointed to the bed again, and Olivia came and sat gingerly on the edge. He moved the cellular away from his ear so that she could hear.
“Matt, what the fuck’s going on?” Detective McFadden demanded.
“You mean right now?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m in bed with a beautiful, almost naked woman.”
Olivia pinched Matt painfully on his inner thigh.
“I wouldn’t put it past you, you bastard.” McFadden chuckled. “I mean, Dignitary Protection at the North Philly Airport at three o’clock. Wohl just told me.”
Matt responded to the pinch of his thigh by reaching into Olivia’s robe and taking her nipple between his fingers.
“You wouldn’t dare!” she whispered furiously.
“You and Man Mountain Martinez have been selected to assist Lieutenant McGuire and his staff, and me, in the protection of Mr. Stan Colt, the movie star. . . .”
“What?” McFadden challenged incredulously.
Matt let go of Olivia’s nipple, then kissed the fingers that had held it with appreciation. Olivia shook her head in resignation.
“With particular emphasis on protecting Mr. Colt from himself.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“He likes very young girls, Charley. We are going to see that he doesn’t get any while he’s in town.”
“You’re not pulling my chain, are you?” McFadden asked, seriously.
“No. If there is an . . . incident, we are all up that famous creek without a paddle.”
“How the hell did you get involved in this?”
Matt started to push his robe from Olivia’s shoulders. She stiffened, but then relaxed and then shrugged out of it.
“Colt is here to raise money for West Catholic High—”
“I saw that in the paper,” McFadden interrupted.
Matt raised his head and kissed Olivia’s nipple.
She sighed. When he lay back down, she shook her head, tolerantly.
“—Monsignor Schneider, who’s the cardinal’s man for the visit, is a cop groupie. When Colt told him he would like to see real cops at work, Schneider thought of me and went to the commissioner, and I got stuck with it.”
“But why you?”
“Schneider thinks I was a real heroic cop in Doylestown,” Matt said after a perceptible pause.
“Oh, shit!” McFadden said, sympathetically.
&n
bsp; Susan Reynolds’s sightless eyes came to Matt’s mind.
“Shit!” Matt said.
“What?” McFadden asked.
Olivia looked at him with concern, then touched his cheek to turn his head so that she could look in his eyes. Her eyes asked, “What?”
“Nothing,” Matt said. “Charley, I have to go. . . .”
“The naked broad’s horny?”
“Absolutely. I’ll see you and Hay-zus at the airport at three.”
“Yeah,” Detective McFadden said, and hung up.
Matt tossed the telephone aside and looked up at Olivia. “A lot of people thought you acted heroically in Doylestown,” she said.
“That’s a joke. I didn’t even do the job right. If I had, Susan would still be alive.”
“ ‘Susan’? You were friends?”
“More than friends,” Matt said.
“I saw you crying on TV,” she said. “I wondered.”
He looked at her but didn’t say anything.
“You know what I feel like doing to you right now?” she said.
“I’m yours! And I love your imagination.”
“I feel like putting my arms around you and holding you and telling you that everything’s going to be all right.”
“That isn’t exactly what I thought you had in mind.”
“Can I?” Olivia asked.
“Yeah,” he said after a moment.
She leaned toward him and he half sat up, and she put her arms around him and held him to her breast.
They stayed that way for perhaps three minutes, and then Olivia glanced down at the sheet covering his groin.
“You horny sonofabitch,” she said, wonderingly.
“Is that a complaint?”
She pushed him away from her breast and back onto the bed and looked down at him for a moment before shaking her head, “no.”
Fifteen minutes later, they got into the unmarked Crown Victoria and rode out to the Northeast Detectives Division and gave their statements.
THIRTEEN
Final Justice Page 31
