Final justice - W.E.B. Griffin [92]
"Yes, you can, Detective, and I am about to excuse myself," Coughlin said. "Whenever we learn more, we will make it available to the press. Thank you."
"He's very good at that," Lowenstein said, in the apartment. "We look a lot better than we did five minutes ago."
Everyone agreed, but no one said anything.
Lowenstein looked around and found Jason Washington.
"You know O'Hara's cell phone number?"
"Yes, sir."
"I think it would be a very good idea for you to meet with him, now. Take Payne and Lassiter with you."
"Yes, sir."
"As for the rest of you, one or two at a time, not all at once, get out of here and let the Homicide people do their job."
There were nods of understanding and a few "Yes, sir"s.
Chief Inspector of Detectives Lowenstein had two more thoughts:
"If you don't mind a suggestion, Sergeant Payne," he said. "I think that you personally should try to run down connecting the camera with the doer."
"Yes, sir."
"And I think it might be useful if you asked Dr. Payne to look at those pictures. Do you think she would be willing to do that?"
"I'm sure she would, sir."
"Chief," Captain Durwinsky said, "I'd like to have copies of those pictures as soon as I can have them. We may be dealing with the same doer."
"How can that be done, Payne?"
"All I need is access to a computer with a digital photo program and a color printer," Matt said.
"We've got one at Special Victims," Durwinsky said. "That's not far."
"Okay," Lowenstein said. "There it is. O'Hara, Special Victims, your sister and running down the doer via the camera. Got it?"
"Yes, sir," Matt said.
"O'Hara first, Chief?" Captain Durwinsky asked.
"Yeah, Helene," Lowenstein said. "O'Hara first. I would like to see at least one story in the newspapers that doesn't gleefully point out our many failures and all-around stupidity. Okay?"
"Yes, sir."
"Okay. Now everybody get to work."
Lowenstein walked out of the apartment.
[TWO]
In the hope that it wouldn't be seen, Michael J. O'Hara of the Philadelphia Bulletin parked his Buick Rendezvous behind the Oak Lane Diner at Broad and Old York Road. The Rendezvous, with its array of antennae, was known to other members of the Philadelphia press corps, and some of his colleagues were even bright enough to be able to spot an unmarked car, and wonder what O'Hara was up to with the cops.
Mickey entered the diner and, after looking around, found Lieutenant Jason Washington, Sergeant Matt Payne, and that good-looking detective who'd come out of the crime scene with Denny Coughlin to face the press, at a banquette in the rear, drinking coffee.
He walked to them and slid in beside Washington.
"Well, isn't this a coincidence!" O'Hara said. "Mind if I sit down?"
"I hoped you parked that conspicuous vehicle of yours where it will not attract the attention of the Fourth Estate?" Washington asked.
"Jesus!" Mickey said, his tone suggesting that Washington should have known the question was unnecessary. He smiled at Detective Lassiter. "I'm Mickey O'Hara."
"Yes, sir, I know who you are," Olivia said.
Mickey shook his head sadly, gave out a long sigh, and turned to Matt.
"You're in luck, Matthew," O'Hara said. "This beauty--this young beauty--calls me 'sir,' which means she has decided I am too old to merit her interest."
"As obviously you are," Washington said.
"Then, speaking with the wisdom of a senior citizen, my beauty, let me advise you to beware of this young man. While some think of him as the Wyatt Earp of the Main Line, others more accurately describe him as the Casanova of Center City."
"That's not funny, Mick," Matt flared.
"Which part?"
"The Wyatt Earp part," Matt said. "As a matter of fact, both parts."
"One day, my beauty . . ."
"My name is Lassiter," Olivia said.
"One day, Lassiter, my beauty," O'Hara went on, "not so long ago, in an alley of our fair city, Wyatt Earp here put down a very bad guy who was shooting at both of us with a .45. I meant nothing but respect in dubbing him Wyatt Earp."
"As disassociated as