Final justice - W.E.B. Griffin [106]
"That won't be enough, will it?" O'Hara asked.
"Oh, ye of little faith," Washington said.
He took out his cellular telephone and pushed an autodial key.
"Has Captain Quaire gone for the day?" he asked, and then a moment later, "Would you switch me to him, please?"
There was a brief pause.
"Lieutenant Washington, sir," he said, "with a request."
There was another pause.
"On the list of unclaimed property found in the Roy Rogers, as item fifteen, there is 'One black sun visor, make unknown, gray cotton-covered visor, plastic headband.' We have reason to believe it was left behind by one of the doers. The lab reports one partially smudged print, possibly index finger. I would like to inspire them to greater effort. This might be possible if you took the item down there personally, sir. . . ."
There was another brief pause.
"Thank you very much. And may I suggest that you tell them I will be in later tonight to check on their progress?" Pause. "Thanks, Henry. It's all that we have right now."
He pushed the End key and turned to Amal al Zaid.
"Double-A Zee, I think we're at the point where the doer took off his shade. What happened next?"
[THREE]
At twenty after six, just as he turned onto I-95 South, Matt's cellular rang.
"Payne."
"Sergeant, this is Lassiter."
"I have a surfeit of bad news, Detective Lassiter. With that caveat, you may proceed."
He thought he heard her giggle, and found it charming.
"No bad news. I just left the Williamsons' . . ."
"And?"
"Everything's under control. Their minister is there. I don't think she's going to change her mind about the uniforms being right in not taking the door. And I'm going back in the morning--she asked me to."
"You get a gold star to take home to Mommy, Detective Lassiter," Matt said.
"Sergeant," she said, a tone of exasperation in her voice, "Northwest wants their car back, that's one thing. The second thing is, Mrs. Williamson told me Cheryl used to hang out in a bar called Halligan's Pub. I'd like a look, but thought I'd better check with you first."
"Do they serve food in Halligan's Pub?"
"I don't know. I suppose so."
Matt looked at his watch.
"I'll meet you at Northwest in twenty-five, thirty minutes," he said. "You can give them their car back. Where is this Halligan's Pub?"
"In Flourtown."
"Okay. Then we will go together to Halligan's Pub. And after that, we'll see. Washington called. I can pick up my car at the Roundhouse."
"Fine," she said. "Anything else?"
"Call Joe D'Amata and tell him we're going to check out the saloon."
"Right."
A uniform sergeant put out his hand to stop the silver Porsche as it rolled into the POLICE VEHICLES ONLY parking lot at the Thirty-fifth District Building. Except for a few rooms used by the Inspector for the North Police Division, Northwest Detectives occupied most of the second floor of the building.
The driver of the Porsche rolled down the window.
"I think it'll be all right, Officer," he said. "I'm just here to pick up my date."
He pointed toward Detective Olivia Lassiter, who was leaning against the wall by the entrance.
The uniform sergeant whistled shrilly, attracting Detective Lassiter's attention.
"You know this guy, Lassiter?"
She looked, and then nodded.
"Yeah."
She walked to the Porsche.
"Next time, find some other place to park," the sergeant said.
"Yes, sir," Matt said.
Olivia got in the Porsche.
Where the hell did he get this car? A Porsche on a detective's pay?
"Have a good time, Lassiter," the sergeant said.
Matt grinned, but didn't say anything as he turned the Porsche around.
"What was that all about? 'Have a good time'?" Olivia asked.
Matt shrugged.
"What did you say to him?" Olivia challenged.
"Nothing," Matt said.
The hell you didn't. You're really a smart-ass. "You get a gold star for Mommy!" Jesus!