"No, she didn't. Who is this?"
"Phil Donaldson, Mr. Mayor, ofPhil's Philly. And you're on the air!"
How the hell did you get this number?
Just in time, the mayor stopped himself from asking that thought aloud. Instead, mustering what charm he could under the circumstances, he said,
"Well, good morning, Phil."
"And good morning to you, Mr. Mayor."
"What can I do for you, Phil, so early in the morning?"
"Just a question or two, Mr. Mayor, and then you can go back to making your own breakfast. Do you always make your own breakfast?"
What business is that of yours?
"Is that one of your two questions?"
"Maybe it will be three questions. But what about breakfast? "
"I try, like every other husband, I suppose, to pitch in whenever my wife is tied up."
"Tied up?"
You flip sonofabitch!
"A figure of speech, Phil."
"Of course."
"The questions, Phil?"
If I ever find out who gave this bastard my number…
"Have you seen this morning'sLedger, Mr. Mayor?"
"I was just about to."
"After you finished your breakfast, you mean?"
"I thought I'd have a glance at it while I was eating my breakfast."
"That's probably a good idea, Mr. Mayor. TheLedger has some pretty startling, even unkind, things to say in an editorial about the police department generally, and you specifically."
Oh, shit!
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, they do, I'm sorry to tell you. And I-and all the good folks out there listening inPhil's Philly-would like to get your reaction to them."
What the hell's in this goddamn editorial?
"An editorial, you say, Phil?"
"That's right, Mr. Mayor. They just about called for you to resign,after you fire Police Commissioner Mariani."
Goddamn it! What the hell is the Ledger onto now?
"Did they say why, Phil? Or are they just still sore that I won the election?"
"No, it's a little more serious than that, I'm afraid, Mr. Mayor. Now, I don't want to put you on a spot, Mr. Mayor…"
The hell you don't! That's your stock-in-trade, you slimeball!
"… and if you haven't read theLedger… So you read the Bulletin first, did you?"
You prick!
"Actually, Phil, I read both every day before I go to Center City, in no particular order, but I just haven't had a chance to look at either so far today."
"Well, what I'd like to do, Mr. Mayor, if you're willing…"
"Anything within reason, Phil."
"How about I call you at the office at eleven?" Mr. Donaldson asked, reasonably. "By then you'll have had plenty of time to read the editorial…"
This is the last fucking time you're ever going to get me on the phone. How stupid do you think I am?
"I may not be in the office at eleven, Phil."
"Well, then, where will you be at eleven? Someplace without a telephone? I thought they were all over these days, like inside plumbing."
"I really don't know right now, Phil, where I'll be at eleven. You have to understand…"
"You wouldn't be trying to give me-and all the good folks out there listening inPhil's Philly-the runaround, would you, Mr. Mayor?"
"Now, Phil, why would you say something like that?"
"Because that's what it sounds like, Mr. Mayor."
You sonofabitch, you got me!
"You call my office at eleven, Phil, and I'll be happy to take your call."
"Cross your heart and hope to die?"
"I give you my word, Phil."
"I asked you to cross your heart and hope to die," Phil said, paused, and added, "Just a little joke. I'll take you at your word, Mr. Mayor, of course. And we'll look forward to talking to you at eleven."
"I look forward to it myself, Phil. It's always a pleasure."
"Have a nice breakfast, Mr. Mayor," Mr. Donaldson said.
He broke the connection and leaned into his microphone.
"Well, you heard it folks, the mayor gave his word that he'd take my call-which means he'll takeour call-at eleven. That should be an interesting conversation. Make sure you tell all your friends to be tuned in. And now a word from the friendly folks at Dick Golden Ford on the Baltimore Pike. Be right back afterward."
He turned off his microphone.
"Gotcha, you bastard!" he said.
[TWO] Lieutenant Jason Washington was in the lieutenant's office in Homicide when Matt and Olivia walked in. Matt was surprised; it was quarter to eight, and Washington usually showed up at ten or later.
As Matt walked toward the lieutenant's office, Washington looked up, saw them, and motioned for them to come in.
"Good morning, Detective Lassiter," he said.
"Good morning, sir," Olivia said.
"Is there some reason you chose to answer neither your radio nor your cellular, Matthew? Or you, Detective, your cellular?" Washington asked.
"I turned the radio off when I was ferrying Colt around," Matt said, "or he would have wanted to respond to anything that came over it. And obviously, I didn't turn it back on this morning." He took his cellular from his pocket. "And the battery is dead in this."
"And you, Detective?"
Olivia had her cellular in her hand.
"I guess I didn't turn it on this morning, sir," she said.
"Need I say that I would be both disappointed and more than a little annoyed if this ever-the operative word is 'ever'-happened again?"
"No, sir," they said, almost in unison.
"Then the incident is closed," Washington said.
"Have you seen theBulletin this morning, Lieutenant?" Matt asked.
"With your image adorning page one? Indeed, I have. And so, I daresay, has most of the population of Philadelphia."
"I wasn't talking about my picture," Matt said. "I meant this."
He laid Section Three of theBulletin, "Living Today," open to page four, on the desk.
"Then you stand out like a cork bobbing in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, for everyone else in Philadelphia is talking of nothing else… What am I being shown?"
"Look at the guy on the ground in the picture," Matt said.
Washington looked.
"You can doubtless imagine the odds against that fellow being our critter," he said after a moment. "But if you wish to turn over the stone under the stone, why don't you give them a call?"
"I already have."
Washington looked at him with interest.
"They wouldn't tell me whether or not this guy had a knife," Matt said. "Or whether he was just peeping in windows or trying to break in, or whether the window belonged to a young woman…"
"And you have concluded, obviously, that this proves he did indeed have a knife, with which he was trying to break into the apartment of a young woman?"
"I think the possibility exists," Matt said, a little lamely.
One of the telephones on the desk rang, and Washington had it to his ear before it could ring again.
"Homicide, Lieutenant Washington," he said.
And a moment later,
"Yes, sir."
And a moment later,
"Yes, sir. They are both here with me."
And a final moment later,
"Yes, sir. We're on our way."
He put the handset in its cradle.
"Detective Lassiter, it is said that God takes care of fools and drunks. While you are certainly not a drunk, Sergeant Payne qualifies on both counts, and you have apparently been taken under his protective mantle."
"Sir?" Olivia asked.
"The reason I attempted-and failed, and we now know why, don't we?-to communicate with the both of you this morning was to relay the order of Deputy Commissioner Coughlin to get you both in here immediately, and keep you here until I had additional instructions from him."
"I don't understand," Matt said. "Is he pissed about the picture? Olivia had nothing to do with that."