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Jesus, Malone thought, that’s worth three, four thousand dollars!

“My—lady friend—gave it to me,” he explained. There was a touch of pride in his voice. “These guys are just jealous.”

“I certainly am,” Jason Washington said. “That’s worth thirty-nine ninety-five if it’s worth a dime.”

There was more laughter, and then Wohl ended it. “Recess is over, children,” he said, “class has begun.”

They all looked at him.

“I might as well start with that, and get it out of the way. We now have the school building at Frankford and Castor. We have it because the Board of Education no longer wants it, and the reason they no longer want it—confirmed by Malone and Payne who were over there this morning—is because it’s falling down. The up side of that is that as part of the ACT Grant there is money for capital improvements. So as soon as possible, say day after tomorrow, we’re going to start making it habitable—”

Malone had noticed that Captain Sabara had raised his hand—like a kid wanting the teacher’s attention.

“Yes, Mike?” Wohl asked, interrupting himself.

“Figuratively speaking, you mean, Inspector?”

“No.”

“Inspector, we’re going to have to let the City put out specifications, get bids, open bids, all that stuff.”

“No. Matt read the small print and showed me where it says we don’t have to go through that for ‘emergency repairs.’ ‘Emergency repairs’ was not more precisely defined. I have decided that it means anything but beautification and additions. Fixing broken windows, plumbing, getting a new furnace—that’s emergency repairs because we can’t use the building with no heat, or no plumbing, or broken windows. Okay?”

“Department of Public Buildings isn’t going to like it. They have their list of friendly folks who do work like that.”

“I can’t help that. We have to get out of here. And Commissioner Czernich—not Public Buildings—has the authority to spend the ACT Grant money.”

“And he knows what you’re going to do?”

“He will when he gets the bills.”

“Inspector, you’re asking for trouble,” Sabara said.

“The bottom line is that we have to get out of here, Mike. If it goes before the mayor, and I suppose it eventually will, I’m betting he’ll decide that I did the right thing and will tell Public Buildings to shut up.”

“And if he doesn’t decide that?”

“Then the new commanding officer of Special Operations will have a heated and air-conditioned office in a building he would not have had if his predecessor hadn’t screwed up.”

“It’s liable to cost you your promotion, Peter,” Sabara said.

“I appreciate your concern, Mike. But (a) I’m not sure if I’m in line for promotion and (b) I’ve made this decision. Okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Item two,” Wohl said. “Last night, Chief Inspector Lowenstein called one of our people—all right, Jason Washington—and asked him to do something he thought had to be done. Jason agreed to do it, then tried to find me to tell me, ask me, and couldn’t—my fault, he should have been able to find me—and then went ahead and did it.”

“What did Lowenstein want?” Pekach asked.

Wohl ignored the question and went on: “Okay. This is now official policy. As soon as Matt has the chance, he’ll write it up, and I want it circulated to all supervisors. But I want this word passed immediately. Only three people, besides me, are authorized to take action when the assistance of Special Operations or Highway is asked for by anyone else. They are Captain Sabara for Special Operations, Captain Pekach for Highway, and Sergeant Washington for Special Investigations.”

“Special Investigations?” Pekach asked, and then, “Sergeant Washington? When did that happen?”

r /> “Washington made sergeant yesterday,” Wohl said. “Special Investigations is a little younger. I thought it up about five minutes ago.”

“Well, my God, Jason,” Pekach said. “Congratulations. I didn’t know you even took the examination.”

He stood up and gave Washington his hand. The others followed suit.