"Yes, sir."
"And then he wouldn't steal any more cars until he figured we didn't have the time to watch him anymore," Malone said.
"Then how do you plan to catch Holland, Lieutenant?" McFadden asked.
"I've got a couple of ideas."
"That's what I'm asking," McFadden said.
"If Inspector Wohl finds out I haven't listened to all the good advice I've been given to forget Holland, in other words, if you tell him you saw me at the body shop, or Payne tells him about tonight, what's the difference?"
"The only people I told about you being outside the body shop is Matt and Hay-zus."
Jesus, he has told somebody!
"Who's-what did you say?"
"Hay-zus, Jesus in English, Martinez. He was my partner when we was undercover in Narcotics."
"And how many people do you think he's told, since you told him?"
"Nobody. I told him to keep it under his hat until I had a chance to ask Payne."
"So what about you, Payne?" Malone asked. "Are you going to get on the phone to Wohl the minute I leave here, or wait until tomorrow morning, or what?"
"It's an interesting ethical question," Matt said. "On one hand, for reasons I don't quite understand. I wouldreally like to see Holland caught. On the other, so far as Wohl is concerned, my primary loyalty is to him-"
"Your primary loyalty should be to the Police Department," Malone interrupted. "You're a cop. It's your duty to catch crooks."
Matt met Malone's eyes, but didn't respond.
"That's the reason you would really like to see Holland caught. You' re a cop," Malone went on.
"And on the other hand, Inspector Wohl trusts me," Matt said. "I like that. I admire him. I don't want to betray whatever confidence he has in me."
"So you are going to tell him?"
"I don't do very well deciding ethical questions when I've had four bottles of beer," Matt said. "I think I'd better sleep on this."
"I see."
"I won't, if I decide I have to tell him, tell him about tonight. If I tell him anything, it will be just that Charley saw you staking out Holland's body shop. Maybe that can slip my mind too. I don't want to decide that, either way, tonight. But if I do decide to tell him, I'll tell you before I do."
"Fair enough," Malone said.
He stood up and offered Matt his hand.
"Thank you."
"For the ribs, you mean," Matt said.
"Yeah, for the ribs," Malone said. Then he leaned over and shook McFadden's hand. Charley nodded at him, but said nothing.
Malone found his coat and walked out of the apartment.
"I wonder if he really has some ideas about catching Holland, or whether that was just bullshit," McFadden said.
"Why couldn't he tell-who did he work for in Auto Squad?"
"That's part of Major Crimes. Major Crimes is commanded by a captain. I forget his name."
"Why couldn't he tell him what he told us?"
"You really don't understand, do you?" McFadden said. "Sometimes, you're smart, Matt, and sometimes you're dumber than dog shit."
"I prefer to think of it as 'inexperienced,'" Matt said. "Answer the question."
"Okay. Don't Make Waves."
"Meaning what?"
"Meaning the Auto Squad and Major Crimes has enough, more than enough, already to do without getting involved in something that might turn against them. It's not as if people are going to die because Holland is stealing cars. Who the hell is really hurt except the insurance company?"
"I could debate that:You are. Your premiums are so high because cars are stolen and have to be paid for."
"And sometimes," Charley said, smiling at him, "you sound like the monks in school. Absolute logic. You're absolutely right. But it don't mean a fucking thing in the real world. Whoever runs Major Crimes decided he didn't want to go after Bob Holland because there are other car thieves out there heknows he can catch, car thieves whowill go to jail, and who don't call the mayor by his first name. You understand?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Don't get me wrong, Matt. For the record, I hope, when you settle yourethical problem, that you decide you don't have to tell Wohl. I'd like to go after Holland."
"Help Malone, you mean?"
"Yeah. Don't you?"
"Yeah. I would. But I think it would be stupid. And probably dangerous."
"To your job, you mean? I don't think you'd be likely to get shot or anything trying to catch Holland."
"Yeah, to my job. I like my job."
"Right. You get your rocks off stumbling around fall-down buildings in the dark with a tape measure, right?"
"You'd better finish those drawings while you can still draw a reasonably straight line."
"Yeah. Jesus, it's getting late, isn't it?"
He sat down at the table. Matt went around picking up the remnants of the meal and the empty beer bottles. When he opened the cabinet under the sink, to put rib bones in the garbage can, he saw the martini glass. It had Helene's lipstick on it. It had somehow gotten broken when they had been thrashing around on the couch.
As the memories of that filled his mind's eye, he felt a sudden surge of desire.
My God, I'd like to be with her again!
"You going to tell me what's happening at half past four tomorrow morning?" Charley asked.
"They know who the doers are on that Goldblatt furniture job-"
"The Islamic Liberation Army?"
"-and they're going to pick them up all at once."
"Highway, you mean?"
"No. Special Operations. ACT."
"Jesus, that's interesting. How come not Highway?"
"A couple of reasons. I think Wohl wants Special Operations-the ACT guys-to do something on their own. And I think he's concerned that this Islamic Liberation Army thing could get out of hand."
"What do you mean, 'out of hand'?"
"He doesn't want a gang of armed robbers to get away with it, or get special treatment, because they're calling themselves a liberation army."
"That liberation army business is bullshit, huh?"
"Yeah. And finally, Chief Lowenstein told Wohl he wanted Highway to pick up these guys. I think Wohl wants to make the point that he will take requests, or suggestions, from Lowenstein, but not orders. In other words, if Lowenstein had said he wanted ACT to make the arrests, Wohl would have sent Highway."
"If the ACT guys blow it, Wohl'll have egg on his face."
"Yeah," Matt said, "and if you should happen to be around Castor and Frankford at that time of the morning, Wohl would figure out where you heard what was happening and I would have egg, or worse, on mine."
"Yeah, I suppose. Shit! Okay. I won't be there."
Matt finished cleaning up and then stood and looked over Charley's shoulder as he worked. It became quickly apparent that Charley was a quite competent draftsman.
I didn't learn a damned thing in high school, for that matter in college, that has any practical value.
"I wish I could do that," Matt said.
"So do I," McFadden said. "Then I could get the fuck out of here."
THIRTEEN
At 3:45 the next morning Officer Matthew M. Payne, in his bathrobe, was watching the timer on his combination washer-drier. It had twentyfive minutes to run.
At approximately 3:25 Officer Matthew M. Payne had experienced what the Rev. H. Wadsworth Coyle of Episcopal Academy had, in a euphemistically titled course (Personal Hygiene I), euphemistically termed a "nocturnal emission." The Reverend Coyle had assured the boys that it was a natural biological phenomenon, and nothing to be shamed about.
It had provoked in Officer Payne a mixed reaction. On one hand, it had been a really first-class experience, with splendid mental imagery of Helene, right down to the slightly salty taste of her mouth on his, and on the other, a real first-class pain in the ass, having to get out of goddamn bed in the middle of the goddamn night to take a goddamn shower and then wash the goddamn sheets so the maid would not find the goddamn telltale spots on the goddamn sheets.