Final Justice Part 37

" 'Mother'?" Coughlin asked.

"I call Detective La.s.siter that to remind myself this beautiful female is is Detective La.s.siter, and that sergeants aren't supposed to notice the beautiful part." Detective La.s.siter, and that sergeants aren't supposed to notice the beautiful part."

There was laughter and chuckles.

"Good thinking, Sergeant," Coughlin said, smiling broadly.

G.o.dd.a.m.n him!

Does he really think I'm beautiful?

"What we're doing now, La.s.siter," Wohl said, "is waiting for another beautiful woman-"

"You'll notice he used the word 'beautiful,' " Coughlin interrupted, "which suggests that that war of the s.e.xes is in the armistice mode." war of the s.e.xes is in the armistice mode."

Wohl flashed him an angry look. The others chuckled.

"-Dr. Payne," Wohl continued, "who has graciously agreed to provide her take on the Williamson doer."

"Where is she?" Matt said.

"Where else, Matt? At the hospital. We were on our way here when her phone buzzed."

What's going on here? Is Inspector Wohl in a relations.h.i.+p with Matt's sister? They had a fight, and everybody knows about it? That maybe they fight all the time?

"What did Amy give you so far?" Matt asked.

"Why don't we wait and get it from her?" Wohl said.

"In the meantime," Was.h.i.+ngton said, "we may may have, using the term 'lead' in the broadest possible sense, finally come up with a lead in the Roy Rogers job." have, using the term 'lead' in the broadest possible sense, finally come up with a lead in the Roy Rogers job."

"Jason looked under the rock under the rock again," Coughlin said, approvingly.

"The witness neglected to tell us," Was.h.i.+ngton went on, "that the miscreant presently known, for lack of more precise information, as 'the fat guy' was wearing a visor-a crownless baseball cap, so to speak-when he sat down at the booth by the kitchen door. He was not wearing it when he left the scene."

"How do we know that?" Olivia asked.

Was.h.i.+ngton's look showed that he did not like to be interrupted.

And Matt told me to keep my mouth shut!

"While O'Hara's digital image does not show the faces of the malefactors, Mother, it does offer rather sharp silhouettes of their heads. No visor-the witness said he was wearing the visor to the rear, over his neck-was visible fore or aft."

He called me "Mother." G.o.dd.a.m.n it, now everybody will.

"I didn't mean to interrupt you, sir," Olivia said.

"Apology noted," Was.h.i.+ngton went on. "We have such a visor cap among the unclaimed items at the crime scene. On it the lab, on its first look, found a rather poor print of what may be an index finger. Detective Harris has gone to the lab asking them to exert greater effort. I have visited the lab myself with the same purpose. I am going to drop by again on my way home tonight."

"Would I do any good, do you think, Jason?" Coughlin asked.

"With all due respect, Commissioner, I think that would be counterproductive."

"Is that so?" Coughlin challenged.

"On the other hand, if Captain Hollaran could find a moment in his busy schedule to drop by the lab," Was.h.i.+ngton replied, "that would suggest great interest in their activities by someone in a high position without invoking the terror a visit by you personally would generate."

"Terror?" Coughlin chuckled. "Your call, Jason."

"When, Jason?" Hollaran asked.

"To preserve what little is left of my once-happy marriage, I am going home-via the lab-just as soon as we hear from Doctor Payne," Was.h.i.+ngton said. "How about immediately after you see the commissioner home?"

"Done," Hollaran said.

"Our finding a useful print is what the wagering fraternity would term a long shot," Was.h.i.+ngton went on. "But at the moment, it's all we have."

"Just before I came here, Matt," D'Amata said, "I checked the results of the door-to-door interviews. Zero. n.o.body saw or heard a thing. So Harry and I are going to try that again in the morning."

There was the sound of tortured metal, as if a b.u.mper had sc.r.a.ped the curbstone.

Wohl looked at Matt. They smiled.

"She must have missed the fire hydrant," Matt said.

"One of her good days," Wohl said.

Amy came through the door a moment later, holding a lined pad. A stethoscope stuck out of the side pocket of her suit jacket.

"Everybody's here," she said.

She bent over Coughlin to kiss his cheek, slid into a chair beside Wohl, and smiled at the people around the table.

"What did you just hit?" Wohl asked.

She looked at him in genuine surprise.

"Nothing," she said. "Why do you ask?"

They're all smiling. She really must be a lousy driver, Olivia thought. Olivia thought.

And she really doesn't look old enough to be a doctor.

And she doesn't look at all like Matt.

"I appreciate your help, sweetheart," Coughlin said. "It's important to us."

"Sweetheart"? What's that all about?

"What have you got for us, honey?" Wohl asked.

"I'm not your honey, Peter," she said. "I'm doing this as a concerned citizen."

Good for you!

"Okay, Concerned Citizen," Wohl replied, smiling, "what have you got for us?"

"Can we get you a drink, sweetheart?" Coughlin asked.

"G.o.d knows I earned one," she said. "Yes, thank you, Uncle Denny."

"Uncle Denny"? What's that all about? Are they related?

"What?" Coughlin asked.

Amy looked at Olivia.

"What are you having?"

"Diet c.o.ke."

"That's not going to do it," Amy said. "I'll have a Bushmills martini."

What the h.e.l.l is a Bushmills martini?

"Jerry," Coughlin called to the bartender. "One of the Doctor's Irish Specials, please."

"Coming right up."

He knows what she means. Which means she comes in here often.

As Wohl's . . . what? Girlfriend? More than that? . . . But with him. with him. Not alone. Not like that poor Williamson girl, who went to Halligan's Pub alone looking for Mr. Right to ride in on a white horse and make eyes at her. Not alone. Not like that poor Williamson girl, who went to Halligan's Pub alone looking for Mr. Right to ride in on a white horse and make eyes at her.

Poor Williamson girl? Who am I kidding?

When Charley the bartender told us that Cheryl wasn't looking for a one-night stand, that he never saw her leave the place with any of the guys who hit on her, I thought, I understand. That description fits me. I understand. That description fits me.

That's how I spend my spare evenings, going to Manny's, where I don't think they know I'm a cop, which is important because if Mr. Right ever rides into Manny's on his white horse and makes eyes at me, I know he will gallop right out again the moment he hears the whispered words "she's a cop" from the bartender.

But what if Mr. Right has just ridden into my life in a silver Porsche? At least . . .

"You take Irish whiskey . . ." Commissioner Coughlin said.

He's talking to me!

". . . and you put it in a c.o.c.ktail shaker with ice, and shake it well, and then you pour it into a martini gla.s.s. That way, you don't dilute the whiskey as the ice melts."

"Very interesting," Olivia said. "I've never heard of that."

"They're really pretty good," Amy Payne said.

"You want to try one?" Coughlin asked. "You really earned a drink today with the Williamsons."

"Why not?" Olivia said.

"Jerry!" Coughlin called. "Two Doctor's Irish Specials."

"Two Doctor's Specials coming up," Jerry called back. Doctor's Specials coming up," Jerry called back.

Olivia looked at Matt.

He was rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

Yeah, I know. "Lay off the booze."

f.u.c.k you!

You're not my father. You don't tell me when not to drink.

How dare you be exasperated, disgusted, whatever with me?

"Did you get a chance to talk to Dr. Mitch.e.l.l, Amy?" Was.h.i.+ngton asked.

"Cause of death was a broken neck," Amy said, matter-of-factly. "There are contusions on the right side of the face, suggesting that she was thrown, or forced, against the bedside table with such force as to break the neck."

She jerked her head violently to one side in demonstration. "Big guy, huh, Doc?" Slayberg asked.

Amy nodded.

"We're sure it's a male?" Olivia asked.

Detective La.s.siter saw that Sergeant Payne was rolling his eyes again.

Why now? Why was that that a stupid question? a stupid question?

Oh, G.o.d, the sperm on her breast!

That was a stupid question.

Keep your mouth shut!

"There was sperm on the body," Amy said.

Sergeant Payne was now shaking his head.

"On the body," Amy went on. "On her breast and face. None in the v.a.g.i.n.a, a.n.u.s, or mouth. . . ." the body," Amy went on. "On her breast and face. None in the v.a.g.i.n.a, a.n.u.s, or mouth. . . ."

The bartender set a martini gla.s.s before each of the women. Amy took a sip.