can call me ‘Doctor,’ too, Inspector Wohl,” Amy said.
“Look at him blush,” O’Hara said. “I will be damned. Cupid’s finally managed to—”
“Shut up, Mickey,” Coughlin said.
“And the doctor, too,” O’Hara went on, unabashed. “It’s not every day you see a doctor blush—”
“Goddamn it, Mickey,” Coughlin flared. “For once in your goddamn life, put a lid on it.”
O’Hara, recognizing genuine anger, fell silent.
“As you were saying, Inspector?” Amy said.
“Honey,” Wohl replied, heard himself with disbelief and horror repeating the term of endearment, and then decided to hell with it. “Everybody in this room wants to see Officer Prasko in a cell. But what we’ve got right now is just one person who can testify in court against him.”
“What exactly did Officer Prasko do?” O’Hara asked.
Wohl glowered at O’Hara, then looked to Coughlin for guidance.
Coughlin shook his head in resignation.
“Okay, Mickey,” he said. “This is what you sit on. Prasko committed the act of oral rape upon a young woman during a drug bust. The boyfriend, the man in the interview room, just identified him from a selection of photographs. He said that Prasko first handcuffed him to a toilet and then attacked the girl.”
“Nice fellow,” O’Hara said. “Where does Officer Prasko work?”
“Narcotics. Five Squad,” Coughlin said.
“If you know who he is, have a witness, and know where he works, why don’t you arrest him?” Amy demanded.
“I’m coming to that,” Wohl said somewhat impatiently. “And that witness, if we manage to keep him alive until we can get him into court, is not going to be a credible witness.”
“Keep him alive?”
“We have every reason to believe . . . the girl’s grandfather—”
“Who is?” O’Hara asked.
Wohl didn’t reply.
“Somebody important,” O’Hara went on. “Or you wouldn’t have danced around using his name. Who is he, Peter?”
Wohl again looked at Coughlin for guidance, and again Coughlin chose to answer the question himself.
“Vincenzo Savarese,” he said.
“Holy Christ! And Savarese knows the name of this dirty cop?”
“Not yet. Or at least we don’t think so. You’re getting the idea, Mickey, why this is sensitive?”
“I’m getting the idea,” O’Hara said. “So where does that guy fit in?” he asked, gesturing toward Ketcham.
“He’s the girl’s boyfriend,” Wohl explained. “Sava rese—this is the theory we’re working under—suspected he might know something about what had happened to his granddaughter, scooped him up from his apartment, and took him to a deserted NIKE site for a little talk. We think the story came out.”
“And that guy’s still alive?”
“We think Savarese left him there to starve to death,” Coughlin said.
O’Hara considered that a moment, then said: “Yeah, that fits.” He nodded, then went on: “But that guy didn’t identify the cop to Savarese?”
“I don’t think Mr. Ketcham knew Officer Prasko’s name,” Washington said. “When I go back in there, I will delve into that further.”
“If Officer Prasko is still alive, Vincenzo Savarese doesn’t have his name,” O’Hara said flatly.
“I don’t need that, for God’s sake!” Amy exclaimed in horror.
“Need what?” Wohl said.
“Mickey means this gangster will take the law into his own hands, right?”
“Well, maybe not the law, Amy,” O’Hara said. “An ax possibly, or maybe a chain saw, something to cut Officer Prasko slowly into small pieces. . . .”
“I have a sick girl—a very nice sick girl—who has been subjected to an unspeakably brutal rape. She is on the edge of schizophrenia right now. If she hears now, or at some later time, that her grandfather brutally—”
“I get the picture,” Wohl said. “And believe me, we’re going to try very hard to keep Savarese from getting at Officer Prasko.”
“Answer Amy’s question, Peter,” O’Hara said. “Why don’t you arrest Prasko? If nothing else, that would make it harder for Savarese to get at him when he gets his name. And he will get his name.”
“We have reason to believe the whole Narcotics Five Squad is dirty,” Coughlin answered for Wohl.
“That’s interesting,” O’Hara replied. “You are going to tell me about that, right?”
“Jesus!” Danny the Judge said. It was the first time he’d heard anything about that.
“I shouldn’t have to tell you, Danny,” Coughlin said “that that doesn’t go any further than this room. And that includes your brother-in-law, the deputy commissioner.”
“Yes, sir,” Danny the Judge said.
“Afterward, I’ll tell him I ordered you to keep him in the dark,” Coughlin said. “He won’t like it, but we’re too close to getting these scum to take any chance of having it go down the drain because too many people know what we’re doing.”