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“You might as well tell me, Peter,” Coughlin said.

“Mr. Amos J. Williams and Mr. Marcus C.—also known as ‘Baby’—Brownlee,” Wohl began, and smiled broadly before going on, “either having recognized the error of their sinful ways, or perhaps in the misguided belief that the charges against them will be dropped, have given statements to Sergeant Washington indicating that the amount of narcotics seized as evidence from them at the motel was approximately twice the amount Officer Grider and the rest of Five Squad turned in to the evidence room.”

“You bastard!” Coughlin said. “You had me going.”

“I’m not finished,” Wohl said. “Additionally, Mr. Williams has given a sworn statement that he had approximately three thousand dollars in his possession at the time of his arrest, which is fifteen hundred more than was turned in, and Baby Brownlee is about to sign his statement, in which he says he had approximately two thousand dollars more in his possession than Five Squad turned in, and was wearing a Rolex wristwatch which seems to have disappeared between the time it was taken from his person at the place of arrest and Central Lockup. He actually bought the watch, and is sure Bailey, Banks and Biddle has a record of the transaction, including the serial number. Do you suppose we’ll get really lucky and find one of these—”

“Forget it, Peter. These characters didn’t get this far by being stupid.”

“I suppose . . .”

“And Washington didn’t have to make a deal?”

“He assured both of them he would personally go to the judge and tell him, or her—it’s a shame that won’t be Hanging Harriet—how cooperative they have been.”

“They didn’t give him anything that can tie Prasko to what he did to the Longwood girl?”

Wohl shook his head, “no.”

“When do we lock them up, Peter?”

“The statements will be enough to get warrants for their arrest, which I think we should do as soon as we can, but I’d rather wait and see what happens in Harrisburg before we actually bring them in,” Wohl said.

“And what if there’s nothing in Harrisburg?”

“If Matt says he saw Calhoun go into the bank, I think he did.”

“And what if Savarese is two steps ahead of us and already knows it was Prasko who raped the girl?”

“As angry as he is, I don’t think he’ll get reckless,” Peter said.

“This is his granddaughter. All bets are off.”

Wohl shrugged.

“Let’s talk about Harrisburg,” Coughlin said.

“Okay,” Wohl said, “what are you thinking?”

“I always look for the black cloud inside the silver lining,” Coughlin said. “For the sake of discussion, Matt was wrong. The guy he saw go into the safe-deposit box was really a shoe salesman from Shamokin.”

“Chief, I don’t think Matt would make that kind of mis—”

“Indulge me,” Coughlin shut him off.

Wohl nodded.

“Sorry.”

“But we have enough to arrest Officer Calhoun anyway.”

“And we know he’s there,” Wohl said. “Or at least his car is parked at his uncle’s house.”

“I wonder what kind of favor Chief Mueller owes Walter Davis?” Coughlin said. “That didn’t take us long to find out, did it?”

“No. Maybe there is a role for the FBI in law enforcement, after all.”

“Don’t get carried away,” Coughlin said. “And say something you’ll regret later.”