And I am the guy they caught lying.

When all else fails, tell the truth.

"Holland is dirty," Malone said.

"How do you know?" McFadden asked, picking up another rib.

"You've been on the street," Malone said, meeting McFadden's eyes. " Youknow when you know someone's dirty."

"Yeah," McFadden said. "But sometimes when you know, you're wrong."

Charley McFadden's response surprised Matt Payne.

What the hell are they talking about? Some kind of mystical intuition?

"Iknow, McFadden," Malone said. McFadden seemed to be willing to give Malone the benefit of the doubt.

Because he's a lieutenant? Or because Charley was on the street? Is there something to this intuition business that these two, real cops as opposed to me, understand and I don't?

And then Officer Matthew M. Payne had a literally chilling additional thought.

I knew. Jesus H. Christ, I knew. When I saw Fletchers van, I knew it was wrong. I told myself, consciously, that all it was, was a van, but I knew it was dirty. If I hadn't subconsciously known it was dirty, hadn't really been careful, Warren K. Fletcher would have run over me. The only reason I'm alive and he's dead is because, intuitively, I knew the van was dirty.

"You want to tell us about it?" McFadden asked.

"You know Tom Lenihan?" Malone asked.

McFadden shook his head no.

"He's Chief Coughlin's driver," Matt offered, and corrected himself." Was. He made lieutenant."

"Right," Malone said. "Now he's in Organized Crime."

"What about him?"

"We go back a ways together. When he made lieutenant, he bought a new car. For him new. Actually a year-old one with low mileage. I went out to Holland Pontiac-GMC to help him get it."

"And?"

"He got a Pontiac Bonneville. They gave him a real deal, he said."

"That doesn't make Holland a thief," Matt Payne said.

"Holland himself came out. Very charming. A lot of bullshit."

"What's wrong with that?" Charley asked.

"Holland has six, seven dealerships. Why should he kiss the ass of a new police lieutenant who just bought a lousy used Bonneville?"

"Maybe because he knew he worked for Denny Coughlin," Matt thought out loud.

"Same thought. Why should a big-shot car dealer kiss the ass of even Denny Coughlin?"

"That's all you have?" McFadden asked.

"Two reasons," Matt said. "One he likes cops, which I doubt, or because he's getting his rocks off knowing he's making a fool of the cops."

"What the fuck areyou talking about?" Charley challenged.

"That's the gut feeling I had," Malone said.

"I don't know what the fuck either one of you is talking about," McFadden said.

"Tell me some more," Matt said. "What do you think? How's he doing it? Why?"

"I don't knowexactly how he's doing it," Malone said. "But I have an idea why, how it started. A lot of car dealers are dirty. I mean, Christ, you know, they make their living cheating people. The only reason they don't cheat more, which is stealing, is because they don't want to get arrested."

"Okay," McFadden said. "So what?"

"So they all know how to steal something, cheating on a finance contract, swapping radios and tires around, buying hot parts for repair work," Malone said. "Now let's say Holland, maybe early on, maybe that's the reason he's so successful, figured out a way to steal cars. He's so successful, the thievery is like business, so the thrill is gone."

"Jesus, Lieutenant," McFadden said, his tone suggesting that Malone had just asked him to believe the cardinal archbishop was a secret compulsive gambler.

"Let him talk, Charley," Matt said, on the edge of sharpness.

"I also read somewhere that some thieves really want to get caught," Malone said. "And I read someplace else that some thieves really do it for the thrill, not the money."

"So you see Bob Holland as a successful thief who gets his thrills, his sense of superiority, by being a friend of the cops?"

"No wonder they think you're crazy," McFadden said, and then, realizing that he had spoken his thought, looked horrified.

"I don't think-" Matt said. "I'm not willing to join them."

"Who's them?" McFadden asked.

"Those who suggest Lieutenant Malone is crazy to think Bob Holland could be a thief," Payne said.

McFadden looked at Payne, first in disbelief, and then, when he saw that Payne was serious, with curiosity.

"Based on what, you think he's stealing and selling whole cars?" McFadden asked.

"I know how," Malone said. "I just haven't figured out how to get Holland yet."

"Great!" McFadden said. "Then youdon't know, Lieutenant."

"I do know," Malone said. "Tom Lenihan is driving a stolen car."

"How do you know that?" McFadden asked, on the edge of scornfully.

"Because the VIN tag and the secret mark on his Bonneville are different," Malone said. "I looked."

The VIN tag is a small metal plate stamped with the Vehicle Identification Number and other data, which is riveted, usually where it can be seen through the windshield, to the vehicle frame.

"No shit?" McFadden asked.

"What's the secret mark?" Matt asked, curiosity having overwhelmed his reluctance to admit his ignorance.

"The manufacturer's stamp," Malone said, "in some place where it can' t be seen, unless you know where to look, either all the numbers, or some of the numbers, on the VIN tag. So that if the thief swaps VIN tags, you can tell."

If he knows that, Matt wondered, why doesn't he just go arrest Holland?

"Does Lieutenant Lenihan know?" Charley asked.

"No," Malone said.

"Why?"

"Because I didn't tell him. If I told him, he would go to the Auto Squad, and they would get a warrant and go out there. I don't want some body shop mechanic, or even the guy that runs the body shop, taking the rap for this, I want Holland."

"Holland probably hasn't been in the body shop for years, and can prove it," McFadden said. "You're sure they're doing this in the body shop?"

"Where else?"

"Well, let's figure out how he's stealing cars, and then we can figure out how to catch him," Charley said.

"Stealing and selling," Matt corrected him.

"Hypo-something," McFadden said. "What is that you're always saying, Matt?"

"Hypothetically speaking," Matt furnished.

"Right," McFadden said. "Okay. From the thief's angle. You steal a car, and you can do what with it?"

"Strip it or chop it," Malone said.

"What's the difference?" Matt asked.

"A quick strip job means you take the tires and wheels, the radio, the air-conditioner compressor, the battery, anything you can unbolt in a hurry. A chop job is when you take maybe the front clip-you know what that is?"

"The fenders and grill," Matt answered.

"Sometimes the whole front end, less the engine," Malone said. " Engines have serial numbers. Or the rear end, or the rear quarter panels. Then you just dump what's left. Clip job or strip job."

"Or you get the whole car on a boat and send it to South America or Africa, or someplace," McFadden said. "You don't think that's what Holland is doing, do you, Lieutenant?"

"Holland is selling whole cars."

"With legitimate VIN tags," McFadden said. "Where's he get those?"

"From wrecks," Malone said. "There's no other place. He goes-hedoesn' t go, he sends one of his people-to an insurance company auction-"

"A what?" Matt interrupted.

"You run your car into a tree," Malone explained. "The insurance company decides it would cost too much to fix. They give you a check and take your car. Once a week, once every other week, they-not just one insurance company, a bunch of them-have an auction. The wrecks are bought by salvage yards, body shops, people like that."

"And Holland just takes the VIN off the wreck and puts it on the stolen car, right, and says it's been repaired, and puts it on one of his lots?" Matt asked.