him, I’ll play it close to my chest; I’m Super Cop. I’ll catch this dirty cop by myself.”
Matt looked at Martinez, who looked crushed.
“And you!” Wohl turned to Matt. “Whatever gave you the idea that you could, without orders, surveil anyone, much less a police corporal of a district you have absolutely no connection with at all, anywhere, much less to somewhere in another county, for Christ’s sake, where you knew illegal gambling was going on?”
“Inspector, I didn’t . . .”
“Shut up, Matt!”
“. . . follow anyone anywhere.”
“I told you to shut up,” Wohl said. “I meant it.”
He went back into Chief Marchessi’s outer office.
Matt looked at Jesus Martinez.
“What did he mean when he said you were sent to the airport?”
Martinez raised his eyes to his, but didn’t reply.
“Well?” Matt asked impatiently.
Wohl put his head back out into the corridor.
“Okay, let’s go,” he said.
They followed Wohl into Chief Marchessi’s office. He pointed to where he wanted them to stand, facing Marchessi’s desk, then closed the door to the outer office, then sat down on a battered couch.
“My primary mistake, Chief, was in assuming that Detectives Martinez and Payne . . .”
Detectives Martinez and Payne?
“. . . had a good deal more common sense than is the case.”
“I don’t follow you, Peter,” Marchessi said.
“At two o’clock this morning, Detective Payne, having followed him there, observed an Airport Unit corporal signing a marker for two thousand dollars in a gambling joint in the Poconos.”
“What gambling joint?” Marchessi asked.
“What was the name of this place, Payne?” Wohl asked.
“The Oaks and Pines Lodge,” Matt replied. “Sir, I didn’t follow . . .”
“Speak when you’re spoken to,” Wohl said.
“Let him talk,” Marchessi said. “What were you saying?”
Wohl didn’t let him.
“The reason he followed this fellow to the Oaks and Pines,” Wohl went on, “was because Detective Martinez asked him to.”
Marchessi put up his hand, palm out, to silence Wohl.
“Did you follow this Corporal . . . have we got a name?”
“Lanza, sir. Vito Lanza,” Martinez said.
“Did you follow this Corporal Lanza to this place in the Poconos?” Marchessi asked.
“No, sir.”
“Inspector Wohl thinks you did.”
“The inspector is mistaken, sir. May I explain?”
“I wish somebody would.”
“Officer Martinez believes . . .” Matt began.
“Detective Martinez,” Marchessi interrupted. “Let’s get that, at least, straight.”
Jesus! That means Hay-zus was working the Airport undercover, and as a detective.
“Detective Martinez became suspicious of Corporal Lanza, sir,” Matt started again.
“Whoa!” Marchessi said. “Why were you suspicious of Corporal Lanza, Martinez?”
“His life-style, sir,” Martinez said. “He had too much money. And a new Cadillac. And he gambles.”
Marchessi looked at Wohl.
“That’s all?” he asked.
“He had almost ten thousand dollars in cash in the glove compartment of his Cadillac, Chief,” Martinez said.
“How do you know that?”
“I saw it.”
“He showed it to you?”
“No, sir.”
“Does this Corporal . . . Lanza . . . know you know he had all this cash?”
“We hope not,” Wohl said sarcastically. “We think Detective Martinez’s breaking and entering of Corporal Lanza’s personal automobile went undetected.”
Marchessi snapped his head to look at Martinez. He was on the verge of saying something, but, visibly, changed his mind.
“And with all this somewhat less than incriminating evidence in hand,” Marchessi said, “you enlisted the aid of Detective Payne to surveil Corporal Lanza, and he followed him to this lodge in the Poconos?”
“Not exactly, sir,” Jesus said.
“Tell me, exactly.”
“I asked Detective Payne if he would be willing to follow Lanza there if I found out he was going.”
“Why?”
“You mean why did I ask Payne?”
Marchessi nodded.
“Because my friend in Vice said it was a high-class place and I figured Payne could get in. I couldn’t follow him myself.”
“And did you tell Detective Payne what you’re doing at the Airport Unit?”
“No, sir. Just that I thought I found a dirty cop.”
“And you learned that Lanza was going to this place, and told Payne, and Payne followed him up there. Is that correct?”
“No, sir,” Matt said.
“I’m asking Martinez,” Marchessi said.
“I didn’t tell him Lanza was going there,” Martinez said. “He went up there on his own.”
Was that a simple statement of fact, Hay-zus, or are you trying to stick it in me?
“Why did you do that, Payne?”
“Hay-zus is a good cop, sir . . .”
“Who the hell is ‘Hay-zus’?” Marchessi interrupted.
“That’s the Spanish pronunciation of ‘Jesus’, sir.”
“Whether ‘Hay-zus’ is a good cop seems to be open to discussion, ” Marchessi said. “Go on.”
“I thought if he said he had a dirty cop, he probably had one.”