Matt was unable to restrain a smile at a mental image of a cute little kid named Peter Wohl dressed up in a cop suit.
"Yes, sir. He commands the Special Operations Division. "
Agnes delivered the coffee and left, leaving the door ajar. Chief Mueller got up from his desk, walked to the door, and closed it.
"Does Chief Wohl know about this-what do we call it?-'cooperative effort' you're doing with Walter Davis? "
"I don't know, sir. I don't think so, but Inspector Wohl may have told him."
"He didn't mention it on the phone, so we'll presume he doesn't know. Okay?"
"Yes, sir."
"That means on this police force I'll be the only one to know. It's been my experience, generally, that when more than one person knows something, you can forget about it being a secret."
"Yes, sir."
Mueller walked back to his desk, opened the drawer, took out a business card, wrote something on it, and handed it to Matt.
"In case you have to get in touch with me in a hurry," he said. "The first number is my unlisted number at home, and the second is the number of the officer in charge of the radio room. They always know where I am."
"Thank you, sir."
"It might be a good idea if you called in here at least once a day. The third number on there is Agnes's private line. If I have any messages for you-you get the idea."
"Yes, sir. I'll check in with Agnes at least once a day."
"Now, before I call Deitrich in here, let's make sure we have all our balls lined up in a straight line. Officially, what you're doing here is looking for dirty money the Vice Squad lieutenant may have stashed up here. Is that about it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Are you really going to do that, or is that just for public consumption?"
"I'm going to be doing that, sir."
"I guess I don't have to tell you that if he does have money, or anything else, hidden up here it doesn't have his name on it?"
"No, sir. I have a list of names of people who might be cooperating with him."
Chief Mueller nodded.
"I hope you find something," Mueller said. "It rubs me the wrong way when crime pays. Especially when the bad guy used to wear a badge."
"I'm sure that's the reason Inspector Wohl sent me up here, sir," Matt said.
"And then this cooperation with Walter and the FBI just came along?"
"That's about it, sir."
"Well, I hope that works, too. For the same reason. It also rubs me the wrong way when people who've killed people just thumb their noses at the rest of us. And get away with it."
"Yes, sir."
"If you need anything, Payne, to help you along, all you have to do is ask."
"Thank you very much, sir."
Mueller went back to his office door and opened it.
"See if Lieutenant Deitrich's got a minute, will you, please, Agnes?" he ordered, and then turned to Matt. "Deitrich, a good man, heads up our White Collar Crime Division. He can get you into the banks."
Deitrich, a very large, nearly bald man in his forties, came into Mueller's office two minutes later.
"Paul, say hello to Detective Matt Payne of the Philadelphia Police Department," Chief Mueller said.
Deitrich examined Matt carefully before putting out his enormous hand.
"How are you?" he said.
His handshake was surprisingly gentle.
"You remember reading in the papers about that dirty Vice lieutenant-what was his name, Payne?"
"Meyer, sir," Matt furnished.
Deitrich nodded his head, confirming Matt's snap decision that Lieutenant Deitrich was a man who didn't say very much.
"The Philadelphia Police Department thinks that ex-Lieutenant Meyer may have some money and/or some property hidden up here," Mueller went on. "And sent Payne up to see if he can find it."
Deitrich nodded again.
"That's a righteous job so far as I'm concerned, so I have offered him our full support."
Deitrich nodded again.
"And Detective Payne comes with a first-class recommendation from a mutual friend of ours. You getting the picture, Paul?"
Again the massive head bobbed once.
"And, for the obvious reasons, he wants to do this as quietly as possible," Mueller said.
"I told him, for openers, that you can get him into the banks," Mueller went on, "and-I just thought of this-you have friends in the county courthouse if he wants to check property transfers."
"When do you want to start?" Deitrich asked.
"How about tomorrow morning?" Chief Mueller answered for him. "Get him a chance to get settled in his hotel. The Penn-Harris."
The massive head bobbed.
"I'll make some calls this afternoon," Deitrich said.
"Thank you."
"You'll be moving around," Mueller said. "What kind of a car are you driving?"
"A Plymouth."
"Yours, or the department's?"
"An unmarked car."
"What year? Does it have official plates?"
"A new one," Matt said. "Blue. Regular civilian plates."
"They must like you in Philadelphia," Deitrich said. "Before you leave, get me the plate numbers. I'll have the word put out that a suspicious, not-one-of-ours unmarked car is to be left alone."
"Thank you."
Deitrich wordlessly took a business card from his wallet and handed it to Matt.
"Thank you," Matt repeated.
"Nine o'clock?" Deitrich asked.
"Nine's fine with me."
Deitrich looked at Mueller to see if there was anything else.
"Thank you, Paul," Mueller said.
Deitrich nodded first at Mueller and then at Matt and then sort of shuffled out of the room.
Mueller waited until he was out of earshot, then said, "Paul doesn't say much. When he does, listen."
"Yes, sir."
"Why don't you let me welcome you to Harrisburg with a home-cooked dinner?" Mueller asked.
"That's very kind, sir. But could I take a rain check?"
Mueller looked at Matt, his bushy eyebrows raised. Then he nodded.
"I hope she's pretty," Mueller said.
"She is," Matt said.
Mueller put out his hand. The meeting was over.
"I meant what I said about if you need anything, anytime, you have my numbers."
"Thank you, sir," Matt said, "for everything."
The Penn-Harris hotel provided Detective Payne with a small suite on the sixth floor at what Matt guessed was half the regular price. There was a bedroom with three windows-through which he could see the state capitol building-furnished with a double bed, a small desk, a television set, and two armchairs. The sitting room held a couch, a coffee table, two armchairs, and another television set.
While he was unpacking, he opened what he thought was a closet door and found that it was a kitchenette complete to a small refrigerator. To his pleased surprise, the refrigerator held a half-dozen bottles of beer, a large bottle of Coke, and a bottle of soda water.
He decided this was probably due more to Chief Mueller's wish to do something nice for a friend of Chief Inspector (Retired) Augustus Wohl than to routine hotel hospitality, particularly for someone in a cut-rate room.
Matt finished unpacking, then took a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, settled himself on the sitting-room couch with his feet up on the coffee table, and reached for the telephone.
Jason Washington's deep, vibrant voice came over the line.
"Special Operations Investigations. Sergeant Washington. "
"Detective Payne, Sergeant Washington, and how are you on this warm and pleasant afternoon?"
"How good of you to call. We were all wondering when you were going to find the time."
"I just got here," Matt protested, and then asked, "Did something come up?"
"I have had three telephone calls from Special Agent Matthews asking if we had heard from you. Weren't you supposed to liaise with him, Matthew?"