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“You repeated it.”

“My mistake,” Tiny said, a hint of anger in his voice. “Where did you see Wohl—Inspector Wohl?”

“You know that your friend Payne is being protected in his apartment?”

Tiny nodded.

“I was supposed to have the midnight to eight tour before—my boss—got me out of it.”

“I was driving by and saw some activity in the garage. A lab van, specifically. So I stopped. Someone, presumably the lowlifes who are calling themselves a Liberation Army, did a job on his car.”

“What kind of a job?”

“Slashed the tires. Scraped the paint.”

“That’s going too far!” Tiny said. “That’s absolutely sacrilegious! That’s not an automobile, it’s a work of art!”

“Now it’s a work of art with flat tires and a scratched paint job,” Lieutenant Lewis said.

“And Wohl was there?”

“Inspector Wohl was there. And nearly as offended by the desecration of the work of art as you are.”

“What kind of a car are you talking about?” Mrs. Lewis asked.

“A Porsche 911.”

“Very expensive,” Lieutenant Lewis said. “Only rich people can afford them—lawyers, doctors, people like that—”

“Stop, Foster!” Mrs. Lewis said. “Not one more word!”

“What’s the matter with you?”

“You

know damned well what’s the matter. You are not going to needle him the rest of his life about not being a doctor! He wants to be a cop. What’s wrong with that? I’m married to a cop. You should be proud that he wants to do what you do!”

Lieutenant Lewis looked at Officer Lewis.

“The lady used profane language, Officer Lewis. Did you pick up on that?”

“Yes, sir. I heard her.”

“I guess that means she’s serious, huh?”

“Yes, sir, I guess it does.”

“Then maybe you and I better get another beer and go in the living room until she calms down, what do you think?”

“I think that’s a fine idea, sir.”

“Don’t try to make a joke of it, Foster. I meant every word I said!”

“I somehow had the feeling you did,” Lieutenant Foster said.

When Chief Inspectors Dennis V. Coughlin and Matthew Lowenstein and Staff Inspector Peter Wohl filed into the Commissioner’s Conference room at eight-ten the next morning, The Honorable Jerry Carlucci, Mayor of the City of Brotherly Love, was already there, his back to them, looking out the window, supporting himself on both hands.

Commissioner Taddeus Czernich, holding a cup of coffee in his hands, stood by the open door to his office. Coughlin, Lowenstein and Wohl stood behind chairs at the table, waiting for the Mayor to turn around.