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The Fruit of Islam was a group, estimated to be as many as one hundred, of Arthur X’s followers, all at least six feet tall, who served as Arthur X’s bodyguard.

“So when are you going to pick these people up?” Tommy Callis asked.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Lowenstein said. “I want to do it like Gangbusters.”

“I don’t know what that means, Matt,” Callis said carefully.

“I want warrants issued for all the people that Mr. Monahan has identified from photographs. I want them—this is where Peter and the Highway Patrol come in—picked up all at one time, say tomorrow morning at six. I then want Mr. Monahan to pick them out of a lineup, one at a time, as soon as possible, after the arraignment, before the preliminary hearing. I want them charged with first degree murder and armed robbery. Then I want to run them past a municipal court in the Roundhouse who is not going to release them on their own recognizance or on two-bit bail. I want you to run them past the Grand Jury just as soon as that can be arranged, and then I want them on the docket just as soon as that can be arranged. Unless there is some reason not to, I want them all tried together, and I want one of the best assistant DAs in the Homicide Unit, preferably the head man, to prosecute. I would not be unhappy if you could find the time to prosecute yourself, Tommy.”

Tommy Callis thought that over a minute.

“You have one witness.”

“He’s a good one. Credible.”

“One,” Callis repeated.

“You’re suggesting those thugs would get to him?”

“What have they got to lose? It’s already murder one. And he could get sick, or drop dead or something.”

“That’s where Peter comes in again. Right now, I’ve got a couple of Northwest Detectives on Mr. Monahan. That’s just to be sure. Just as soon as this thing starts, I want Peter to conspicuously protect Mr. Monahan.”

“Meaning what?”

“A Highway car parked around the clock in front of his house. If he insists on going to work, Highway will take him back and forth, and park in front of Goldblatt’s while he’s working.”

“He could still have a heart attack, or something.”

“And he could get struck by lightning,” Lowenstein said. “Anything’s possible. I think it’s more possible that we could come up with a couple, maybe six, eight, ten more witnesses.”

“Explain that to me, Matt.”

“Peter will also put Highway people on the other witnesses.”

“What for?” Callis asked, without thinking.

“To protect them, of course. We are dealing with dangerous people here. While the witnesses, if they are to be believed, can’t identify the doers, the doers don’t know that.”

“Christ, Matt, I don’t know,” Callis protested.

“Once they come to understand that they are in some danger whether or not they testify, they may decide that the only way they can really protect their asses is by making sure these scumbags are put away. An assistant DA, with good persuasive skills, might be able to jolt their memories a little. I also thought I would ask Peter to have Washington have a word with the witnesses.”

“The Afro-American witnesses, you mean?”

“All of them. Jason is a formidable sonofabitch, in addition to being very persuasive.”

“You’re suggesting, ‘Here is this big black good guy, who will protect me from the bad black guys’?” Callis asked.

“Why not?” Lowenstein said. “And I’m going to suggest to Peter that when we make the arrests, it might be a good idea to use black Highway guys. A couple of them, anyway, at each site.”

“Yeah,” Wohl said thoughtfully. “Good idea.”

Callis thought about that a moment.

“I presume Commissioner Czernich thinks this is a good idea?” he asked, finally.

“I haven’t had the opportunity to discuss this with the commissioner,” Lowenstein said.