"Your pal McFadden was looking for you, Payne," Pekach said as he made room for Malone. "Did he find you?"

"When was he looking?"

"Last night."

"Yeah. And he came looking for me again this morning. I am to be the best man at his wedding."

Christ, Malone thought, maybe I'll get the worst possible scenario. If McFadden and Payne are pals, that's just as dangerous as McFadden telling his lieutenant he saw me staking out Holland's body shop. Damn!

"Are you going to ask me to be your best man, David?" Sabara asked innocently.

"What?"

"Well, a nice Polish boy like you can't just go on living in sin indefinitely, can you?"

"Fuck you, Mike!" Pekach flared.

What the hell is that all about?

"If you feel that way, you can just get somebody else to be your best man," Sabara said.

"Goddammit, knock it off!"

"Play nice, children," Wohl said, coming into the room.

"He's always on my ass about Martha," Pekach said.

"Get off Captain Pekach's ass about Martha, Captain Sabara," Wohl said.

"Yes, sir," Sabara said, seemingly chastised. "What time is it, David?"

Without thinking, Pekach held up his wrist and opened his mouth.

"Nice watch, Dave," Sabara said innocently. "Where did you say you got it?"

"You sonofabitch!" Pekach flared.

It was too much for Wohl; he started to laugh, and when he did, Payne joined in.

Pekach looked like he was about to erupt, but finally started to laugh too, shaking his head.

"You bastards!"

"Show Malone your watch, Dave," Wohl said.

Pekach looked uncomfortable, but finally held up his wrist.

Around it was a heavy gold strap attached to a gold Omega chronograph.

Jesus, Malone thought, that's worth three, four thousand dollars!

"My-lady friend-gave it to me," he explained. There was a touch of pride in his voice. "These guys are just jealous."

"I certainly am," Jason Washington said. "That's worth thirty-nine ninety-five if it's worth a dime."

There was more laughter, and then Wohl ended it. "Recess is over, children," he said, "class has begun."

They all looked at him.

"I might as well start with that, and get it out of the way. We now have the school building at Frankford and Castor. We have it because the Board of Education no longer wants it, and the reason they no longer want it-confirmed by Malone and Payne who were over there this morning-is because it's falling down. The up side of that is that as part of the ACT Grant there is money for capital improvements. So as soon as possible, say day after tomorrow, we're going to start making it habitable-"

Malone had noticed that Captain Sabara had raised his hand-like a kid wanting the teacher's attention.

"Yes, Mike?" Wohl asked, interrupting himself.

"Figuratively speaking, you mean, Inspector?"

"No."

"Inspector, we're going to have to let the City put out specifications, get bids, open bids, all that stuff."

"No. Matt read the small print and showed me where it says we don't have to go through that for 'emergency repairs.' 'Emergency repairs' was not more precisely defined. I have decided that it means anything but beautification and additions. Fixing broken windows, plumbing, getting a new furnace- that's emergency repairs because we can't use the building with no heat, or no plumbing, or broken windows. Okay?"

"Department of Public Buildings isn't going to like it. They have their list of friendly folks who do work like that."

"I can't help that. We have to get out of here. And Commissioner Czernick-not Public Buildings-has the authority to spend the ACT Grant money."

"And he knows what you're going to do?"

"He will when he gets the bills."

"Inspector, you're asking for trouble," Sabara said.

"The bottom line is that we have to get out of here, Mike. If it goes before the mayor, and I suppose it eventually will, I'm betting he'll decide that I did the right thing and will tell Public Buildings to shut up."

"And if he doesn't decide that?"

"Then the new commanding officer of Special Operations will have a heated and air-conditioned office in a building he would not have had if his predecessor hadn't screwed up."

"It's liable to cost you your promotion, Peter," Sabara said.

"I appreciate your concern, Mike. But (a) I'm not sure if I'm in line for promotion and (b) I've made this decision. Okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Item two," Wohl said. "Last night, Chief Inspector Lowenstein called one of our people-all right, Jason Washington- and asked him to do something he thought had to be done. Jason agreed to do it, then tried to find me to tell me, ask me, and couldn't-my fault, he should have been able to find me- and then went ahead and did it."

"What did Lowenstein want?" Pekach asked.

Wohl ignored the question and went on: "Okay. This is now official policy. As soon as Matt has the chance, he'll write it up, and I want it circulated to all supervisors. But I want this word passed immediately. Only three people, besides me, are authorized to take action when the assistance of Special Operations or Highway is asked for by anyone else. They are Captain Sabara for Special Operations, Captain Pekach for Highway, and Sergeant Washington for Special Investigations."

"Special Investigations?" Pekach asked, and then,"Sergeant Washington? When did that happen?"

"Washington made sergeant yesterday," Wohl said. "Special Investigations is a little younger. I thought it up about five minutes ago."

"Well, my God, Jason," Pekach said. "Congratulations. I didn't know you even took the examination."

He stood up and gave Washington his hand. The others followed suit.

"The word to be passed is that our supervisors don't-no matter who makes the request-do anything for anybody else unless, in your areas of responsibility, you know about it and approve. That means we have to be available twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, to make the decision. And if you're not going to be available, you have to make sure I am. Okay?"

"Don't misunderstand me, Inspector," Captain Pekach said. "But there' s a reason for this, right?"

"Yes, of course there is," Wohl said impatiently. "I don't want Matt Lowenstein, or anyone else, thinking they can just call up here and give our people things to do."

"It's hard to tell Matt Lowenstein no, Inspector," Jason Washington said.

"Especially if you hope to go back and work for him, right?" Wohl responded.

Washington's face tightened.

"I thought it was important, Inspector," Washington said.

"Just don't forget where you work, Jason. For whom you work."

"I suppose that means I won't be going back to Homicide?"

"The question came up as soon as the commissioner got the exam results. He called me and said he thought Lowenstein and Quaire would like to have you back in Homicide and how did I feel about that? I told him over my dead body. He said, joking of course, that Chief Lowenstein could probably arrange that, and I replied, joking of course, that if he did, the funeral procession would make a detour through the mayor's office, where the corpse would make a final protest."

Sabara chuckled.

"I'm glad you're amused, Mike," Wohl said.

"What I was thinking was, you really don't want to get promoted, do you?"

"I would like to be commissioner, all right? And I think the way to get myself promoted is to do a good job here."

"Hey, take it easy. I'm on your side. I'm one of the good guys."

"If you say so," Wohl said, and then he went on, "Item three: the Islamic Liberation Army."

"Don't tell me they gave us that too?" Pekach asked.

"No. Right now, it's a Homicide job. And properly so. What Lowenstein wanted Jason to do, and what, for the record, Jason quite properly agreed to do, was get in touch with Arthur X to ask him, so to speak, if when the Islamic Liberation Army is picked up, the arresting officers will face the Fruit of Islam, screaming religious and/or racial persecution."