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“You mean Savarese was just going to leave him there?” Walter Davis asked, visibly shocked.

“Now that Peter has raised the point, I believe that is entirely possible,” Washington announced. “Imaginative forms of retributive homicide are consistent with the Sicilian code of honor. Dishonoring the females of the tribe is really a no-no.”

“That makes it attempted murder, too,” Walter Davis said.

“That would not be easy to prove,” Coughlin said. “I’m not even sure we have enough to get an indictment, much less a conviction.”

No one said anything, and then Coughlin had another thought. “I got the impression, Jason, that Ketcham not only has no idea who grabbed him, but didn’t even get a look at them?”

Washington nodded.

“I, for one, feel that nothing has been uncovered so far that should cause us to deviate from our original plan,” Washington said.

He looked at Chief Coughlin for an answer.

Wohl spoke first.

“What do you think we should do, Jason?”

“I think we should show Mr. Ketcham the photographs,” Washington said. “There will be a certain shock to them. So far we haven’t even touched on the fringes of the rape. If we know about that, he will reason, what else do we know?”

“That’s good enough for me,” Coughlin said. “Go do it, Jason.”

“Just a minute,” Walter Davis said.

Everyone looked at him.

“We have a chance here to prosecute Vincenzo Savarese for kidnapping and attempted murder,” he said. “I would hate to lose that opportunity.”

“I would prefer to strike, to coin a phrase, while the iron is hot,” Washington said.

“I really would like to bring the U.S. Attorney in on this now,” Davis insisted.

“Walter, what we’re talking about here is the prosecution of a police officer who committed a felony—the oral rape—while acting under the shield of his office,” Coughlin said.

“Dennis, I’m wholly sym

pathetic to your desire to uncover corruption in the Five Squad, but an opportunity like this, vis à vis Savarese . . .”

“Walter, you don’t really think that slime in there is going to get up in court and testify against Savarese, do you?” Wohl said.

“I think we should discuss the whole situation with the U.S. Attorney before we take any further action.”

“Go do it, Jason,” Coughlin ordered, then looked at Walter Davis. “Sorry, Walter.”

Davis’s face was white, but he said nothing.

Wohl handed Washington a large manila envelope.

He walked out of the room and into the interview room.

Wordlessly, he took a dozen eight-by-ten-inch photographs from it and spread them on the table before Mr. Ronald R. Ketcham.

Ketcham did his best to appear to be confused by the photographs.

“Where’s my clothing?” he asked. “You said someone had gone for my clothing.”

“Would you please examine the photographs, Mr. Ketcham, and identify the police officer who committed oral rape upon the person of Miss Cynthia Longwood?”