This produced, as Washington feared it would, an indignant reaction. Pekach’s face tightened, and his eyes turned cold.

“Bullshit,” he said. “Jerry Kellog worked for me before he went on the Five Squad. A good, smart, hardworking, honest cop. Which is how he got onto the Five Squad. I recommended him.”

“How much do you know about the Five Squad?”

“Enough. Before I got promoted, I was the senior lieutenant in Narcotics…no I wasn’t, Lieutenant Mikkles was. But I filled in for Captain Talley enough to know all about the Five Squad. Same thing-good, smart, hardworking, honest cops.”

Washington didn’t reply.

“Christ, Jason, the Narcotics Five Squad is-” He looked for a comparison, and found one: “-the Highway Patrol of Narcotics. The best, most experienced, hardworking people. A lot of pride, esprit de corps. They’re the ones who make the raids, take the doors, stick their necks out. Where did Wohl get the idea they’re dirty?”

“From me, I’m afraid,” Washington said.

Pekach looked at him in first surprise and then anger.

“I’m not saying they’re dirty,” Washington said. “I don’t know-”

“Take my word for it, Jason,” Pekach interrupted.

“What I told the Boss was that I believed Mrs. Kellog believed what she was saying.”

“She’s got an accusation to make, tell her to take it to Internal Affairs.”

“She’s not willing to do that. She doesn’t trust Internal Affairs.”

“I suppose both you and Wohl have considered that she might be trying to take the heat off her boyfriend?” Pekach challenged. “What’s his name? Milham?”

“That, of course, is a possibility.”

“What I think you should do-and if you don’t want to tell Wohl, by God, I will-is turn this over to Internal Affairs and mind our own business.”

Washington didn’t reply.

Pekach’s temper was now aroused.

“You know what Internal Affairs would find? Presuming that they didn’t see these wild accusations for what they are-a desperate woman trying to turn the heat off her boyfriend-and conducted an investigation, they’d find a record of good busts, busts that stood up in court, put people away, took God only knows how much drugs off the street.”

“We can’t go to Internal Affairs with this right now,” Washington said.

“Why not?” Pekach demanded, looking at him sharply. “Oh, is that what you’ve all been up to, that nobody’s talking about? Investigating Internal Affairs? Is that why you can’t take this to them?”

“You’re putting me on a spot, Captain,” Washington said. “I can’t answer that.”

“No, of course you can’t,” Pekach said sarcastically. “But let me tell you this, Jason: If anybody just happened to be investigating Internal Affairs, say, for example, the Mayor’s personal detective bureau, I’d say they have a much better chance of finding dirty cops there than anyone investigating the Narcotics Five Squad would find there.”

Washington was aware that his own temper was beginning to flare. He waited a moment.

“Captain, I do what the Boss tells me. He told me to have a long talk with you about the Narcotics Five Squad. That’s what I’m doing.”

“Oh, Christ, Jason, I know that. It just burns me up, is all, that the questions would be asked. I know those guys. I didn’t, I really didn’t, mean to jump on you.”

Washington didn’t reply.

“And I’ll tell you something else, just between us,” Pekach said. “I guess my nose is already a little out of joint. I’m supposed to be the Number Three man in Special Operations, and I don’t like not knowing what you and your people are up to. I know that’s not your doing, but…”

“Just between you and me, Captain Sabara doesn’t know either,” Washington said. “And also, just between you and me, I know that the decision to keep you and Sahara in the dark wasn’t made by Inspector Wohl, and he doesn’t like it any more than you do.”

“I figured it was probably something like that,” Pekach said. “But thank you for telling me.”

Washington shrugged.

“What else can I do for you, Jason?”

“I’m a little afraid to ask.”

“Don’t be.”

“I don’t know the first thing about how the Narcotics Five Squad operates. You do. Would you give some thought to how they could be dirty, and tell me?”

“Jesus Christ!” Pekach said bitterly, and then: “OK, Jason, I will.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Washington said, and stood up.

“Jason, I hope you understand why I’m sore. And that I’m not sore at you.”

“I hope you understand, Captain, that I don’t like asking the questions.”

“Yeah, I do,” Pekach said. “We’re still friends, right? Despite my nasty Polish temper?”

“I really hope you still think of me as a friend,” Washington said.

When Matt Payne went out the rear door into the parking lot, he saw that it was shift-change time. The lot was jammed with antenna-festooned Highway Patrol cars, somewhat less spectacularly marked Anti-Crime Team (ACT) cars, and a row of unmarked cars. Almost all of the cars were new.

There was more than a little resentment throughout the Department about Special Operations’ fleet of new cars. In the districts, radio patrol car odometers were commonly on their second hundred thousand miles, seat cushions sagged, windows were cracked, heaters worked intermittently, and breakdowns of one kind or another were the rule, not the exception.

The general belief held by most District police officers was that Inspector Wohl was the fair-haired boy of the Department, and thus was able to get new cars at the expense of others who did not enjoy his status. Others felt that Special Operations had acquired so many new vehicles because it was the pet of Mayor Carlucci, and was given a more or less blank check on the Department’s assets.

The truth, to which Matt Payne was privy-he had been then Staff Inspector Wohl’s administrative assistant before becoming a detective-had nothing to do with Inspector Wohl or the fact that Special Operations had been dreamed up by the Mayor, but rather with the Congress of the United States.

Doing something about crime-in-the-streets had, about the time the Mayor had come up with his idea for Special Operations, been a popular subject in Congress. It was a legitimate-that is to say, one the voters were getting noisily concerned about-problem, and Congress had reacted in its usual way by throwing the taxpayers’ money at it.

Cash grants were made available to local police departments to experiment with a new concept of law enforcement, This was called the Anti-Crime Team concept, which carried with it the acronym ACT. It meant the flooding of high-crime areas with well-trained policemen, equipped with the very latest equipment and technology, and teamed with special assigned prosecutors within the District Attorney’s Office who would push the arrested quickly through the criminal justice system.

The grants were based on need. Philadelphia qualified on a need basis on two accounts. Crime was indeed a major problem in Philadelphia, and Philadelphia needed help. Equally important, the Hon. Jerry Carlucci was a political force whose influence extended far beyond the Mayor’s office. Two Senators and a dozen or more Congressmen seeking continued employment needed Jerry Carlucci’s influence.

Some of the very first, and most generous, grants were given to the City of Philadelphia. There was a small caveat. Grant money was to be used solely for new, innovative, experimental police operations, not for routine police expenditures. So far as Mayor Carlucci was concerned, the Special Operations Division was new, innovative and experimental. The federal grants could thus legally be, and were, expended on the pay of police officers transferred to Special Operations for duty as Anti-Crime Team police, and for their new and innovative equipment, which of course included new, specially equipped police cars. Since it was, of course, necessary to incorporate the new and innovative ACT personnel and equipment into the old and non-innovative Police Department, federal grant funds could be used for this purpose.