"We know the whereabouts, as of fifteen minutes ago, of all eight of the people who stuck up Goldblatt's and murdered the maintenance man-"

"Ah, the Islamic Liberation Army," Mickey interrupted, "I thought that's what this probably was."

"The eight suspects in the felonies committed at Goldblatt's is what I said, Mr. O'Hara," Wohl said. "I didn't say anything about any army, liberation or otherwise."

"Pardon me all to death, Inspector, sir, I should have picked up on that."

"As I was saying," Wohl went on. "Shortly after five, the officers you see gathered here will assist detectives of the Homicide Bureau in serving warrants and taking the suspects into custody. Simultaneously. Or as nearly simultaneously as we can manage."

"I would have expected Highway," Mickey said.

"You are getting the ACT officers of Special Operations," Wohl said.

"How exactly are you going to do the arrests?" Mickey asked. "It looks like an army around here."

"Seven of the eight suspects are known to be in this area, in other words, around Frankford Avenue. One of them is in West Philly. Two ACT cars, each carrying two officers, will go to the various addresses. There will be a sergeant at each address, plus, of course, the Homicide detective who has been keeping the suspects under surveillance. We anticipate no difficulty in making the arrests. But, just to be sure, there are, under the control of a lieutenant, stakeout vans available. One per two sergeants, plus one more in West Philly. Plus four wagons, three here and one in West Philly."

"Okay," Mickey said.

"At Captain Sabara's suggestion," Wohl went on, "when the arrests have been made, the suspect will be taken out the back of his residence, rather than out the front door. There he will be loaded into a van and taken to Homicide."

"Instead of out the front door, where there might be angry citizens enraged that these devout Muslims are being dragged out of their beds by honky infidels?"

"You got it, Mickey," Wohl said. "What do you think?"

"I think Lowenstein thinks you were going to use Highway," Mickey said.

"Chief Lowenstein does not run Special Operations," Wohl replied.

"May I quote you?"

"I wish you wouldn't," Wohl said. "If you need a quote, how about quoting me as saying these suspects have no connection with the fine, law-abiding Islamic community of Philadelphia."

Mickey O'Hara snorted.

"Where do you think I might find something interesting?" O'Hara asked.

"One of the suspects is a fellow named Charles D. Stevens," Wohl said. "Word has reached me that he sometimes uses the alias Abu Ben Mohammed. Rumor has it that he fancies himself to be the Robin Hood of this merry band of bandits. Perhaps you might find that a photograph of Mr. Stevens, in handcuffs and under arrest, would be of interest to your readers."

"Okay, Peter," Mickey chuckled. "Thank you. Who do I go with?"

"Officer Payne," Wohl said, "please take Mr. O'Hara to Lieutenant Suffern. Tell him that I have given permission for you and Mr. O'Hara to accompany his team during the arrest of Mr. Stevens."

"Yes, sir," Matt said.

"You will insure that Mr. O'Hara in no way endangers his own life. In other words, he is not, repeat not, to enter the building in which we believe Mr. Stevens to be until Mr. Stevens is under arrest."

"Ah, for Christ's sake, Peter!" O'Hara protested.

"You listened carefully, didn't you, Officer Payne, to what I just said?"

"Yes, sir."

"If necessary, you will sit on Mr. O'Hara. Clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Lieutenant Ed Suffern, a very large, just short of fat, ruddy-faced man, pushed himself off the fender of his car when he saw Mickey O' Hara and Matt Payne walking up.

"How are you, Mickey?" he said, smiling, offering his hand, obviously pleased to see him. "I'm a little surprised to see you."

"Officially, I just happened to be in the neighborhood."

"Yeah," Suffern said, chuckling. "Sure."

"Got a small problem, Ed," O'Hara said. "How am I going to get to see you catching-whatsisname?-Abu Ben Mohammedwith Matt Payne sitting on my shoulders?"

"What?"

"Wohl says I can't go in the building until you have this guy in cuffs, and he sent Payne along with orders to sit on me if necessary."

"I wondered what he was doing here," Suffern said. "No problem. Here, let me show you."

He opened the door of his RPC and took a clipboard from the seat.

"Somebody give me a light here," he ordered, and one of the ACT cops took his flashlight from its holster and shined it on the clipboard. It held a map.

"This is Hawthorne Street," he said, pointing. "Mr. Abu Whatsisnamehis real name is Charles D. Stevens, Wohl tell you that?"

O'Hara nodded.

"-lives here, just about in the middle of the block." He pointed. " There's a Homicide detective, he has the warrant, sitting here, right now. This is the way we're going to do this: One ACT car, with two cops and the Homicide guy, will go to the front door. Another ACT car, with two ACT guys and the sergeant, will go around to the back, via the alley here." He pointed again. "When they're in place, the sergeant will give the word. The Homicide guy will knock or ring the bell or whatever. We'll give him thirty seconds to open the door. Then they'll take both doors. When they have him in cuffs, they'll take him out the back. There's a wagon, here." He pointed again, this time to a point a block away. "The van will start for the alley the moment he hears they're going in. They'll put Abu Whatsisname in the van, with one cop from each of the ACT cars, and get out of the neighborhood. The same thing, the same sort of thing, will be going on here in the 5000 block of Saul Street. Two ACT cars, a sergeant, and a Homicide detective will pick up Kenneth H. Dome, also known as 'King' Dome, also known as Hussein Something. When they havehim, the sergeant will call for the wagon. When both of these guys are in the van, they'll be taken to Homicide. Got it?"

"Yeah," Mickey said thoughtfully.

"So there's no problem, Mickey," Lieutenant Suffern finished. "I'll put you and Payne in my car. We'll go into the alley behind Stevens's house, from the other direction. I'll let you two out, and I'll go in with the sergeant when he takes the back door. When you see us coming out, you can make your pictures. Okay?"

"Can you give me a list of the names?" O'Hara asked. "I really hate to spell people's names wrong. And point them out to me, so I know who's who?"

"Absolutely," Suffern said.

Lieutenant Suffern, Officer Payne thought, is entertaining hopes that the next issue of the Bulletin will carry a photograph of Lieutenant Ed Suffern with the just arrested felon in his firm personal grip.

"Payne," Lieutenant Suffern said, "if answering this puts you on a spot, don't answer it. Are we really going to move in here?" He waved in the general direction of the school building.

"I think so," Matt said. "I think the Board of Education wants to get rid of it."

"My mother went to school in there," Suffern said. "I thought they were going to tear it down."

"Okay," Inspector Peter Wohl's voice suddenly came over, with remarkable clarity, all the loudspeakers in all the vehicles in the playground. "Let's go do it."

There was the sound of starters grinding, and then an angry voice.

"I'm going to need a jump start here!"

Headlights came on, their beams reflecting off the still falling snow.

Suffern opened the rear door of his car and waved Mickey O'Hara and Matt in. The hem of Matt's topcoat got caught in the door, and the door had to be reopened and then closed again.

The cars and vans began to roll out of the playground, onto Frankford Avenue. Most turned left, but some turned right. Matt looked at his watch. It was twenty minutes to five.