our bust?”
“No, sir.”
“Payne got that dame to roll over on Chenowith, not that FBI agent,” Carlucci said. “You wouldn’t know that to read Mickey’s story.”
“No, sir,” Peter said. “You wouldn’t.”
“You’re not going to ask me how I know that?”
“Sir, how do you know that?”
“Detective Payne told me,” Carlucci said.
“You’ve seen Payne?”
“Did you see that thing on TV—goddamn, they shouldn’t put things like that on TV—I mean, Payne standing there soaked in that girl’s blood, watching them carry her body off?”
“Yes, sir, I saw it. It was pretty rough.”
“So I called up and asked what happened to him, and where he was, and then he told me he went from the restaurant to arrest the rest of those slime. And then, when I called Special Operations, Mike Sabara told me you had sent him home.”
“Actually, I placed him on administrative leave,” Wohl said.
“Yeah, that’s what Mike said, while it was decided whether or not charges would be brought against him.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I told Mike Sabara you made a mistake. He could take it from me that no charges were going to be brought against Detective Payne. Detective Payne is on compensatory time. He’s put in a lot of overtime lately, what with bagging Officer Calhoun and this cooperation with the FBI. Are we clear on that, Inspector? That Payne is on compensatory time?”
“Yes, sir. Sir, he disobeyed a direct order!”
Carlucci ignored what was for Peter Wohl a somewhat emotional outburst.
“So I went by his apartment on Rittenhouse Square. I figured it was the least I could do. And he wasn’t there, so Jack and I went out to Wallingford to his father’s house. First time I’d ever been there. It wasn’t as big as I thought it would be. I really felt sorry for him. He was all broke up that the girl got killed. I mean, really broke up. And then, on top of that, he’s worried about you and Coughlin . . . because he disobeyed some bullshit order you gave him.”
“I didn’t think it was a bullshit order, sir.”
“We talking about the same order? The one Payne told me he got was he was not supposed to try to arrest this Chenowith character by himself under any circumstances. Is that the order we’re talking about?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Just between you and me, Peter, who issued Payne that stupid order? You or Denny Coughlin?”
“I did, sir.”
“That’s what Denny said when I asked him just a couple of minutes ago. He said he did. That’s nice, the two of you being loyal to each other. Both of you trying to take responsibility for doing something stupid. I appreciate that. They call that loyalty up and loyalty down.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do we understand each other, Inspector?”
“Yes, sir. I get the message.”
“That will be all, Inspector. Thank you for coming in to see me.”
“Yes, sir.”
Wohl had just reached the door when Carlucci called after him.
“Peter!”
“Yes, sir?”
“Two things, Peter. Be sure to give your father my warmest regards.”
“Yes, sir, I will. Thank you.”
“And why don’t you take the rest of the day off. You’ve been working very hard lately; you deserve a little time off. Take a ride. Go out to Wallingford, maybe. Take Denny with you. See Payne. He thinks you two walk on water.”
“Yes, sir,” Inspector Peter Wohl said.
Assistant District Attorney Anton C. Phebus, Esq., disappeared shortly after having been informed by District Attorney Thomas J. Callis that all the police officers assigned to the Five Squad of the Narcotics Unit had been arrested on a variety of charges, and that “Wohl, Washington, and Weisbach have got at least two of them singing like the Vatican Choir.”
Later the same day, District Attorney Callis issued a warrant for Mr. Phebus’s arrest on charges of complicity in the charges laid against members of the Five Squad.
He was arrested on charges of unlawful flight to escape prosecution by the Federal Bureau of Investigation six weeks later in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, where he was working as a security guard at a Kmart. He was subsequently extradited to Philadelphia and brought to trial before the Hon. Harriet M. McCandless. On a finding of guilty, Judge McCandless sentenced Mr. Phebus to fifteen to twenty-five years’ imprisonment.
Mr. Ronald R. Ketcham was found dead in his apartment of an overdose of heroin two weeks after he was released from the NIKE site.
Although defended by Armando C. Giacomo, Esq., all members of the Narcotics Unit Five Squad were found guilty of various charges placed against them for criminal activity, and received sentences ranging from eighteen months to five years in prison.
It was generally believed that not even Armando C. Giacomo could have gotten acquittals given the devastating state’s witness testimony of former officers Herbert J. Prasko and Timothy J. Calhoun.
In a separate action, former officer Timothy J. Calhoun pleaded guilty before a United States court to one charge of violating the civil rights of Mr. Amos Williams. He was sentenced to one year in federal prison. After seven months he was released on parole, and he is now a truck driver in Philadelphia.
In a separate action, former officer Herbert J. Prasko pleaded guilty before a United States court to seven violations of the civil rights of Mr. Amos G. Williams and Mr. Marcus C. Brownlee, and was sentenced to four years on each charge, the sentences to be served consecutively. He was confined to the Federal Penal Facility at Eglin Air Force Base, Florida, where he was assigned duties in the mess-hall kitchen. Two months after his arrival, he failed to meet roll call and was declared an escapee.
Three weeks later, his remains were found tied to a log in the swamp surrounding the air base. Who tied him to the log is not known, but he is believed to have met his death by being eaten alive, by feral hogs, herds of which roam the Eglin Reservation.