to death, and thus blown their cover. Assigned, he now reminded himself, through the influence of Chief Inspector Dennis V. Coughlin.
“They now work for Peter,” Coughlin said.
“Doing what, Peter?” Captain Delachessi asked.
“They’re Highway Patrolmen,” Wohl replied.
“They won’t be for long,” Coughlin said.
“Sir?” Wohl asked, surprised.
“We got the results of the detective exam today.” Commissioner Marshall said. “Both of them passed in the top twenty.”
“So, incidentally, Peter, did Matt Payne,” Chief Coughlin added, “He was third.”
Officer Matthew M. Payne was Peter Wohl’s administrative assistant, another gift from Chief Dennis V. Coughlin.
“I thought he might squeeze past,” Wohl replied. Matt Payne had graduated from the University of Pennsylvania cum laude. Wohl didn’t think he would have trouble with the detective’s examination.
“Well, hold off on congratulating him,” Coughlin said. “Any of them. The results of the examination are confidential until Civil Service people make the announcement. No word of who passed is to leave this room, if I have to say that.”
“Let’s try this scenario on for size,” Commissioner Marshall said. “And see if it binds in the crotch. Martinez’s name does not appear on the examination list as having passed. He is disappointed, maybe even a little bitter. And he asks for a transfer. They’ve been riding his ass in Highway, Denny tells me, because of his size. He doesn’t seem to fit in. But he’s still the guy who got the guy who killed Dutch Moffitt, and he deserves a little better than getting sent to some district to work school crossings or in a sector car. So Denny sends him out to the Airport Unit.”
Both Commissioner Marshall and Chief Inspector Coughlin looked very pleased with themselves.
If there’s going to be an objection to this, it will have to come from Lowenstein. He’s the only one who would be willing to stand up against these two.
Chief Lowenstein leaned forward and tapped a three-quarter-inch ash into an ashtray.
“That’d work,” he said. “Martinez is a mean little fucker. Not too dumb, either.”
From you, Chief Lowenstein, that is indeed praise of the highest order.
“Do you think he would be willing, Chief?” Wohl asked.
“Yeah, I think so,” Coughlin said. “I already had a little talk with him. No specifics. Just would he take an interesting undercover assignment? ”
You sonofabitch, Denny Coughlin! You did that, went directly to one of my men, with something like this, without saying a word to me?
“What we would like from you gentlemen,” Commissioner Marshall said, “is to play devil’s advocate.”
“Will the commissioner hold still for this?” Lowenstien said.
“No problem,” Commissioner Marshall said.
The translation of that is that there was a third party, by the name of Carlucci, involved in this brainstorm. The commissioner either knows that, or will shortly be told, and will then devoutly believe the idea was divinely inspired.
“What we thought,” Coughlin went on, “is that Peter can serve as the connection. We don’t want anyone to connect Martinez with Internal Affairs, or Organized Crime, or Narcotics. If Martinez comes up with something for them, or vice versa, they’ll pass it through Peter. You see any problems with that, Peter?”
“Then all that remains to be done,” Coughlin said, “is to get with Martinez and drop the other shoe. What I suggest, Peter, is that you have Martinez meet us here.”
“Yes, sir. When?”
“Now’s as good a time as any, wouldn’t you say?”
Officer Matthew M. Payne, a pleasant-looking young man of twenty-two, who looked far more like a University of Pennsylvania student, which eighteen months before he had been, than what comes to mind when the words “cop” or “police officer” are used, was waiting near the elevators, with the other “drivers” of those attending the first deputy commissioner’s meeting. They were all in civilian clothing.
Technically, Officer Payne was not a “driver,” for drivers are a privilege accorded only to chief inspectors or better, and his boss was only a staff inspector. His official title was administrative assistant.
There is a military analogy. There is a military rank structure within the Police Department. On the very rare occasions when Peter Wohl wore a uniform, it carried on its epaulets gold oak leaves, essentially identical to those worn by majors in the armed forces. Inspectors wore silver oak leaves, like those of lieutenant colonels, and chief inspectors, an eagle, like those worn by colonels.
Drivers functioned very much like aides-de-camp to general officers in the armed forces. They relieved the man they worked for of annoying details, served as chauffeurs, and performed other services.