"And then they'll have to be run by Radio, right, to get the proper radios?"

"Right."

"I want all our cars to have J-Band, Detective, Highway, and ours, whenever we get our own," Peter said.

"I'm not sure that's in the plan, Inspector," Frizell said.

"I don't give a damn about the plan," Peter said. "You call Radio and tell them to be prepared to start installing the radios. And call whoever has the car pool, and tell them we're going to start to draw cars today. Tell them we have fifty-eight officers assigned; in other words that we want twenty cars."

"But we don't have fifty-eight officers assigned. We don't have any."

"We have three at this moment," Wohl said. "And Captain Sabara is working hard on the others."

"Yes, sir," Sergeant Frizell said. "But, Inspector, I really don't think there will be fifteen unmarked cars available at the Academy."

"Then take blue-and-whites," Wohl said. "We can swap them for unmarked Highway cars, if we have to."

"Inspector," Frizell said, nervously, "I don't think you have the authority to do that."

"Do that right now, please, Sergeant," Wohl said, evenly, but aware that he was furious and on the edge of losing his temper.

The last goddamned thing I need here is this Roundhouse paper pusher telling me 1 don't have the authority to do something.

Frizell, sensing Wohl's disapproval, and visibly uncomfortable, left the room.

Wohl looked at the three young policemen.

"You fellows know each other, I guess?"

"Yes, sir," they chorused.

"Okay, this is what I want you to do." He threw car keys at Matt Payne, who was surprised by the gesture, but managed to snag them. " Take my car, and drive McFadden and Martinez to the motor pool at the Police Academy. There, you two guys pick up two unmarked cars. Take one of them to the radio shop and leave it. You take my car to the radio shop, Payne, and stay with it until they put another radio in it. Then bring it back here. Then you take Captain Sabara's car and have them install the extra radios in it. Then you bring that back. Clear?"

"Yes, sir," Matt Payne said.

"You two bring the other car here. I've got a job I want you to do when you get here, and when you finish that, then you'll start shuttling cars between the motor pool and the radio garage and here. You understand what I want?"

"Yes, sir."

Getting cars, and radios for them, and handing out assignments to newly arrived replacements, is a Sergeant's job, Wohl thought, except when the man in charge doesn't really know what he's doing, in which case he is permitted to run in circles, wave and shout, making believe he does. That is known as a prerogative of command.

Lieutenant Teddy Spanner of Northwest Detectives stood up when Peter Wohl walked into his office, and put out his hand.

"How are you, Inspector?" he said. "I guess congratulations are in order."

"I wonder," Wohl said, "but thanks anyway."

"What can Northwest Detectives do for Special Operations?"

"I want a look at the files on the burglary-is it burglaries?-job on a woman named Peebles, in Chestnut Hill," Wohl said.

"Got them right here," Spanner said. "Captain Sabara said somebody was coming over. He didn't say it would be you."

"The lady," Wohl said, "the Commissioner told me, has friends in high places."

Spanner chuckled. "Not much there; it's just one more burglary."

"Did Mike say we were also interested in the Flannery sexual assault and abduction?"

"There it is," Spanner said, pointing to another manila folder.

Wohl sat down in the chair beside Spanner's desk and read the file on the Peebles burglary.

"Can I borrow this for a couple of hours?" Wohl asked. "I'll get it back to you today."

Spanner gave a deprecatory wave, meaningSure, no problem, and Wohl reached for the Flannery file and read that through.

"Same thing," he said. "I'd like to take this for a couple of hours."

"Sure, again."

"What do you think about this?" Wohl said.

"I think we're dealing with a real sicko," Spanner said. "And I'll lay odds the doer is the same guy who put the woman in the van. Anything on that?"

"Not a damned thing," Wohl said. "Push me the phone, will you?"

He dialed a number from memory.

"This is Inspector Wohl," he said. "Would you have the Highway car nearest Northwest Detectives meet me there, please?"

He hung up and pushed the telephone back across the desk.

"I need a ride," he explained.

"Something wrong with your car? Hell, I'd have given you a ride, Inspector. You want to call and cancel that?"

"Thanks but no thanks," Wohl said.

"Well, then"-Spanner smiled-"how about a cup of coffee?"

"Thank you," Wohl said.

A Highway Patrol officer came marching through the Northwest Detectives squad room before Wohl had finished his coffee. Wohl left the unfinished coffee and followed him downstairs to the car.

"I need a ride to the Roundhouse," Wohl said, as he got in the front beside the driver. "You can drop me there."

"Yes, sir," the driver said.

They pulled out of the District parking lot and headed downtown on North Broad Street. Wohl noticed, as he looked around at the growing deterioration of the area, that the driver was scrupulously obeying the speed limit.

"If you were God," Wohl said to the driver, "or me, and you could do anything you wanted to, to catch the guy who's been assaulting the women in Northwest Philly-and I think we're talking about the same doer who forced the woman into the van last night-what would you do?"

The driver looked at him in surprise, and took his time before answering, somewhat uneasily. "Sir, I really don't know."

Wohl turned in his seat and looked at the Highway Patrol officer in the backseat. "What about you?"

The man in the backseat raised both hands in a gesture of helplessness.

"The way I hear, we're doing everything we know how."

"You think he's going to turn the woman loose?" Wohl asked.

"I dunno," the driver replied. "This is the first time he's… kept

… one."

"If you think of something, anything," Wohl said, "don't keep it to yourself. Tell Captain Pekach, or Captain Sabara, or me."

"Yes, sir," the driver said.

"Something wrong with this unit?" Wohl asked.

"Sir?"

"Won't it go faster than thirty-five?"

The driver looked at him in confusion.

"Officer Hawkins says it was the civilian who ran the stoplight last night," Wohl said. "I believe him. We're looking for witnesses to confirm Hawkins's story."

The driver didn't react for a moment. Then he pushed harder on the accelerator and began to move swiftly through the North Broad Street traffic.

With a little luck, Wohl thought, these guys will have a couple of beers with their pals when their tour is over, and with a little more luck, it will have spread through Highway by tomorrow morning that maybe Inspector Wohl ain't the complete prick people say he is; that he asked for advice; said he believed Hawkins; and even told the guy driving him to the Roundhouse to step on it.