helping, nothing will stop us. It’s just a matter of time. I’m also going to revive Eddy Trimble and give the City narcs a present.”
“Bart and Rex?”
“Can’t use our narcs. We’re only doing surveillance, remember?”
“What if one of them is the leak?”
“My friend didn’t think he would draw any heat if it was taken down. If it was one of the narcs, they wouldn’t have turned me into an informant in the first place. I trust them. Wish I could say the same for the rest of their office — or our own people.”
“Enough emphasis on my friend already! I’m your partner. He can be our friend.”
“Good. Welcome aboard. Hope you enjoy the ride!”
An hour later, Danny arrived home in time to pick up his telephone. He recognized the harsh voice immediately.
“This is Superintendent Wigmore. Meet me at the Oceanside Lounge. Immediately!”
chapter twenty-four
Danny spotted Wigmore sitting alone in the lounge. Wigmore scowled at him and nodded toward a chair. Danny sat down as the waiter approached the table.
“Bring me another Glennfiddich on the rocks,” commanded Wigmore. “This time, bring the Scotch on the side.” He gestured toward Danny and said, “Nothing for him; he won’t be staying.”
Wigmore waited until the waiter left, then said, “Tell me, O’Reilly, why do men pay prostitutes money?”
“Sir?”
“A simple question.” Wigmore’s voice became sarcastic. “Surely you’ve been a policeman long enough to have heard about prostitutes.”
“Men pay prostitutes money in exchange for sex,” said Danny.
“Any other reasons?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Do you think it conceivable that a man who has engaged a prostitute would murder her if she was perhaps going to spill the beans on him, so to speak?”
“Yes, sir. I guess that is conceivable.”
Wigmore stared smugly at Danny while the waiter returned with his order.
“Ice in your glass, with the Scotch on the side,” said the waiter, somewhat contemptuously.
Wigmore waited until the waiter left before continuing. “So, O’Reilly, you’ve answered why you paid a prostitute — Miss Doyle — money.”
Danny was shocked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I don’t know any Miss Doyle!”
“Come come now, O’Reilly. You paid Miss Christine Doyle’s bill for her at a garage. With the tow bill it came to over $800.”
“Crystal! I didn’t know her real —”
“Oh, of course. You would have known her by the name she uses for customers.”
“I wasn’t a customer!” The edge to Danny’s voice revealed his anger.
“We’ve got your credit card receipt! An auto mechanic identified your photo as being the man who paid her bill! He also saw you and a woman hugging her in the garage parking lot.”
“That woman was my wife.”
“I see. You and your wife are into … group activities, are you?”
Danny seethed with anger. He opened and closed his fists under the table to control his rage. “We were simply helping her out! Her car broke down. She needed help!”
“Forget the charade, O’Reilly! Homicide traced the cell number! You just told me you couldn’t think of any reason a man would pay a prostitute except for sex. She was talking to you on the phone the next day when she was murdered! What have you got to say about that? It appears to me that you may have been involved in her murder!”
Danny fought to keep his composure. This son of bitch wouldn’t have called me here if he really believed what he was saying. Danny glared at Wigmore and said, “Right! Let’s forget the charade! What do you really want?”
“Don’t get snarky with me, O’Reilly! I know Taggart is involved! I warned you before about him! People dying around him is nothing new. Think about it! Since you’ve been his partner, there was this Leonard character in the back alley. Now a hooker is murdered while talking to you, and you not only don’t inform me, you also don’t report it to Homicide!”
Danny started to protest, but Wigmore held up his hand to silence him, then continued, “Just for argument’s sake, even if you did help this hooker with her car and happened to introduce her to your wife, it’s against policy. However, as a police officer, not reporting what you know to Homicide is obstruction of justice! And that’s a criminal matter! You’re already in trouble for neglect of duty in regards to the PM. Now this!”
“I — I didn’t report it because I just thought the phone went dead. She just phoned to say goodbye. I thought she was moving back east.”
Wigmore shook his head. “Get it through your skull, O’Reilly. I warned you not to get sucked into Taggart’s world. I even understand that you’re scared and that’s why you just lied to me. It’s Taggart I want, but if you continue to act dumb and not cooperate, then you’ll both end up in the same cell.”
“It’s not that I’m not cooperating, it’s just that he isn’t doing anything wrong.”
Wigmore chuckled, shaking his head, then said, “So there would be no problem with me scheduling you to take the polygraph? Start off with about a dozen questions concerning policy matters, then look at criminal matters. Questions like: did you intentionally hinder the investigation into Christine Doyle’s murder?”
Wigmore picked up on the look of fear on Danny’s face. Or is it guilt? It triggered a response like a shark to blood. He leaned across the table until his breath was in Danny’s face. “Perhaps question if your actions contributed to her murder?”
Danny stared back at Wigmore. He didn’t know how to respond. He wondered what he would say to Susan.
Wigmore leaned back in his chair. He had made his point. “I’ll be out of town for the next two days. I expect to hear from you on Monday. With the weekend, that gives you four days to think about it. By then, if you decide not to spill the beans, I’ll demand a full Internal. Starting with slapping you on the polygraph!”
It was noon when Danny walked into the office. Jack was already there, and by the amount of paper piled up, he had been at work for a while. Danny plunked himself down.
Jack looked at him and asked, “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve been up all night.”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“If you’re that upset about these searches, I told you, I’ll
