chapter twenty-nine

Later that afternoon, Wigmore was putting his work away when his telephone rang.

“Superintendent Wigmore,” the young woman said, “my name is Linda. Are you Jack Taggart’s boss?”

“Indirectly. What can I do for you?”

“I used to go out with Jack, but he doesn’t think I’m good enough for him now.”

“I’m sorry, miss, but I’m not responsible for personal issues that —”

“I understand that! But he shouldn’t be allowed to break the law, even if he is a cop.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when we were going together, he once told me about something he did to some big-time bank robber. A Frenchman, I think.”

Wigmore gripped the receiver and reached for a pad of paper. “What did he say?”

The woman paused, then said, “I don’t like discussing this on the phone. Would it be okay if I met you? I could be there in two hours, say 6:15.”

“Please do! Just come to the front counter and ask for me. I’ll wait.”

“But what if Jack comes in? I don’t want him to know. Maybe this isn’t a good idea….”

“Do you want to meet someplace else?”

“I’d still feel safer at your office. Do I have to come to the main entrance?”

Wigmore paused, then said, “No, you don’t. Come to the fire escape door at the rear of the building. I’ll let you in and sneak you up the back stairs. Nobody will see you, I promise.”

“Well … that sounds okay. I’ll be there at 6:15 sharp.”

At six o’clock Wigmore called the Communications Office. He told them to ignore the alarm system at the back door at 6:15 while he let in a “special person.”

At 6:05 the woman called Wigmore again. She would be just a couple of minutes late and would call him from her cellphone when she reached the parking lot.

A young man in Communications watched the security camera as the woman approached the rear of the building. Her wide-brimmed hat hid her face, but her tight suit jacket and skirt revealed a good figure with long legs. Her blouse was pinned at her neck by a broach. He glanced at his watch. It was 6:15. She was right on time. The alarm buzzed briefly indicating that the fire escape door had been opened. He watched the camera as the woman stepped inside, and then he reset the alarm.

Wigmore received another call from the woman at 6:30. She sounded scared. She said that she was about to walk across the parking lot when she saw Jack Taggart drive away. She wanted to wait an hour to make sure that it was safe before coming in. Wigmore glanced at his watch and reluctantly agreed to await her next call.

At 7:25 the security alarm notified the Communications Office of another breach at the back door. The young man watched as the same woman left the building. She carried her suit jacket loosely over her shoulder, and her blouse was unbuttoned enough to show her cleavage. She did a little pirouette in the parking lot, swinging her purse in an arc around herself, then staggered before regaining her footing and walking away. Yes, she looked like a “special person.”

Moments later, Wigmore grabbed his telephone on the first ring. The woman said that she was tired and didn’t want to meet him tonight. Maybe some other time.

The security tape in the Communications Office recorded that Wigmore left through the front door of the building at 7:35 p.m.

Jack put his binoculars on the dashboard and smiled. Tiffany let out a squeal, so Jack picked her up. “It’s okay, sweet pea, Mommy will be here in a minute.”

It was not yet seven o’clock in the morning when Assistant Commissioner Isaac arrived at work. As usual, he was well ahead of the rest of his office staff. He didn’t need to pull back the drapes to know the sanctuary of his office had been violated. The smell of Scotch permeated every corner of the room. A large, wet stain spread out from an empty bottle of Glennfiddich that was lying on the carpet, along with the picture of his wife, his bible, his pen set, and his brass business card holder. His business cards lay scattered across the carpet.

Isaac also didn’t need to look at the brassiere hanging from the horn of the stuffed buffalo head to figure out what had taken place on his desk.

Isaac made two telephone calls. The first was to Internal Affairs. “You find them!” seethed Isaac. “I want to know who’s responsible for this! And I want to know now!”

His second call was to a carpet-cleaning company.

Two hours later, the Identification Section announced that they had found fingerprints on the empty bottle of Scotch.

Late that afternoon, Wigmore fidgeted with his hands as he entered Isaac’s office. He denied being responsible. He denied knowing the woman on the tape of the security camera. Yes, he had received a call from someone, and yes he had called Communications, telling them to ignore the alarm. Yes, he drank Scotch. No, he didn’t have a drinking problem. Yes, he could explain how the bottle with his prints got there. He was framed by Jack Taggart!

Isaac listened to Wigmore’s raspy voice plead his innocence and wondered if it was a set-up. After all, a commissioned officer … it just didn’t seem possible. And the brassiere hanging from the buffalo’s horn … it did seem like overkill. He told Wigmore, who was begging for a chance to take the polygraph, that he would accommodate his request before the week was over.

It was 10:30 p.m. when Danny called Wigmore at home. Wigmore was furious but listened to Danny’s plea that he didn’t know anything about Jack framing him. Wigmore said that he was looking forward to seeing Danny in person. The Oceanside, in one hour!

It was 11:45 when Jack and Danny parked with Susan and Tiffany at a payphone near the office, about a forty-minute drive from the Oceanside Lounge. Susan used the payphone to place her call.

“Oceanside Lounge,” said the bartender.

“Yes,” purred Susan. “Is Marvin Wigmore in there? Big guy, brush-cut, drinks Scotch.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Tell him I left my bra in his office and I want it back.”

The bartended suppressed a snicker and said, “I think you better tell him that yourself. Hang on.” Susan heard the bartender shout, “Mr. Wigmore! Telephone!”

Susan passed the receiver to Danny.

“Yeah, this is Wigmore. Is that you, O’Reilly?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where are you? Why aren’t you here? I’ve been waiting!”

“You’re nothing but a jealous, pompous, vindictive little man with the brain a size of a rat’s and probably the balls to match!”

“What?” screamed Wigmore. “You think you can talk that way with me? You’re finished! Do you understand? Finished! When I see you I’ll rip your face off and —”

“Sir, sir, sir!” interjected Danny. “It’s not me that said that!”

“What? What are you talking about? You said I had the balls of —”

“Sir, no, you misunderstood. I was reading from my notes. That’s what Jack said about you tonight. I was just telling you.”

“Taggart? He said that?”

“Yes, sir. I made notes of it. Sorry, I should have explained that first.”

“Where are you? You could have told me that when you got here.”

“That’s why I’m calling. It’s Jack. He’s really freaked out tonight about you. I don’t know why. He’s been drinking and calling you all sorts of names. I think I should stick with him. He’s talking like he wants to shoot you.”

“Shoot me? That son of a bitch! Okay, listen O’Reilly! You stay close to him. Tomorrow morning we’ll meet at the office. I want you to tell Assistant Commissioner Isaac every detail.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be there. Good night, sir.”

At 11:58 Wigmore walked out of the lounge and went home. One minute later, the bartender looked up at a new customer.

“Do you have a phone I can borrow for a local call?”

“At the end of the bar. Help yourself.”

It was exactly midnight when Assistant Commissioner Isaac mumbled an apology to his wife while leaning across to answer the telephone on the bedside table. He recognized Wigmore’s raspy, angry voice immediately.

“It’s Superintendent Wigmore! W-I-G-M-O-R-E! Listen, you fuckin’ faggot! You don’t know who you’re messin’ with! You bother me anymore and so help me, I’ll take my gun and ram it up your ass and pull the trigger! That’s after I rip your face off and shove it up your ass too!”

The line went dead. Isaac was shocked, but he still thought like a policeman. He checked his call display and then called the Communications Office. He demanded to know where Jack Taggart was at this exact moment.

One hour later, a policeman interviewed the bartender. Yes, Mr. Wigmore had been in. He was certain. Left around midnight, right after he used the phone. Some woman called him. Said she left her bra in his office. It’s not the sort of thing you would forget. Wigmore might have made another call after. He was really angry. Yelling at someone on the phone.

Wigmore left for work earlier than usual and cautiously looked around as he walked down his apartment hallway and pushed the elevator button. He was wearing a bulletproof vest under his shirt and carried a pistol — something he hadn’t done since being commissioned.

The elevator door opened and Wigmore did an imitation of a freshly caught bass, blinking his eyes while opening and closing his mouth. Three members of the Tactical Team leapt from the elevator and ordered him to the floor. Four more officers appeared on each side of him in the hall, also dressed in black and also carrying automatic weapons. They too screamed for him to hit the floor.

“Go on in.”

Louie Grazia nodded to the secretary, then walked across the fresh-smelling carpet and sat down in front of Isaac’s desk.

“Good work on Project 13 so far, Louie,” said Isaac. “This new informant your section has cultivated is proving very valuable. I gather there is still no indication who is supplying the bikers with information?”

“No, sir, not at this time. We’re working on it.”

“Well, if you hear anything, let me know immediately!”

“Yes, sir.”

Isaac glanced at the picture of his wife and looked back at Grazia.

“You heard about Wigmore this morning?”

Grazia nodded.

“It’s a shame. I just heard from the hospital. Preliminary examination indicates he may be suffering from paranoid schizophrenia. The doctor thinks he truly doesn’t know reality from fiction. He was wearing a bulletproof vest and carrying his sidearm when they took him down. He’s afraid that policemen are trying to kill him. Also said that Taggart and O’Reilly framed him and that O’Reilly called him last night at some lounge and set him up.”

“Oh?”

“It was actually a woman friend of his who called him there. She spoke to the bartender first. Somehow it triggered Wigmore. He went berserk and called and threatened me right after. I haven’t told you this, but Wigmore made accusations yesterday saying that Taggart framed him for the … indiscretion in my office. After Wigmore threatened me at home, I immediately called Communications.”

“Do you think Taggart was involved?”

“Taggart was with O’Reilly. Communications proved that the both of them entered our building only minutes before Wigmore called to threaten me.”

“I’m glad my men weren’t involved, sir.”

“I know. I think Wigmore snapped under the pressure of being commissioned. He’s looking to point his finger at anyone rather than take a good look at himself. The sad thing is, he really believes it.”

“It sounds pretty serious.”

“It’s serious, but they don’t think he’s actually dangerous. They expect to release him shortly and treat him as an outpatient.”

“Will he be coming back to the job?”

“No. I’ll see to it that he goes to pension as soon as he’s released.” Isaac leaned back in his chair and said, “Well, enough about that. Let the men know I’m pleased with how Project 13 is progressing and keep me abreast of any new developments.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Grazia.

It was eleven o’clock on Friday night when Jack and Danny stepped up on the darkened porch and Jack rapped on the door. A few minutes later, the porch light went on and the door opened a crack.

Jack stuck his foot in the doorway and said, “Police! We’ve got an arrest warrant for Jose Cuervo! Open up! We got a tip that he’s hiding in your kitchen!”

“Come on in,” said Louie. “I’ll lead you to him.”

Louie led Jack and Danny into the kitchen. Louie took his pistol from his housecoat pocket and placed it on the kitchen table, and then retrieved the bottle of tequila and three glasses.

The three men gave a silent toast and drank. When they were finished, Louie pointed a finger at Jack and said, “Pour another. I’ll be right back.”

Jack did as he was told, and Louie returned a moment later with a tape recorder. He spoke with a lisp and said, “Lithen to thith, big boys!”

Jack, Danny, and Louie howled with laughter when the tape of Wigmore’s voice was played. When it was finished, Louie became sombre and looked at Jack and said, “He might be vengeful. Keep your eyes open for a while.”

“We’ve talked about this before. As I said, the man’s a bully, which makes him a coward in my eyes. He wouldn’t have the guts to try anything.”

“I agree, but just be careful all the same. Now, time to burn this,” added Louie, reaching for the tape.

Danny pleaded with Louie to play it one more time while he refilled the glasses.

By 2:00 a.m., the tape had been played several times before being destroyed.