Adams was on the phone at his desk assuring Butch Hardy that Cassy’s boyfriend was out of circulation for now when the precinct commander’s assistant showed up.
“Voight wants to have a word.”
“Be right there,” Adams said, and the uniform left. “Gotta run, Butch, but whatever’s going on you’d better get done with it or walk away, whichever makes the most sense.”
“I owe you one, but just keep him there overnight.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Adams said and hung up.
Whalen was a pain in the ass, but he’d been a Navy SEAL lieutenant, which was a very big deal. Whatever it was that Butch was involved with over in Brooklyn had all the earmarks of going south at any moment.
He went down the hall to Precinct Commander Leonard Voight’s office. The door was open, and Voight beckoned him in.
“Close the door, Roger,” he said.
Adams did as he was told and went to sit down, but Voight held up a hand.
“This will take just a minute.”
“Okay, Len, what’s up?”
“You arrested a man by the name of Benjamin Whalen. And at the moment he’s here in a holding cell. And you arrested him because you were told that he verbally assaulted a friend of yours.”
“I have a copy of the recorded threat.”
“From Butch Hardy, who was fired from this precinct just before I showed up, because he was nothing but a scumbag on the take.”
“Unproven allegations. I’ve known Butch for—”
“I don’t give a fuck if you think the son of a bitch is Jesus Christ himself. And the reason this afternoon that I don’t give a shit is because there’s one thing I like even less. And that is a telephone call from the mayor, who told me in no uncertain terms to get my head out of my ass. And would you care to guess why he would say something like that to me?”
Adams held his silence.
“Because his pal is an admiral down in Washington who happens to be Mr. Whalen’s boss,” Voight said, his voice barely rising above a conversational level. “Now what do you suppose we should do to get the mayor off my ass?”
“I’ll see to it immediately,” Adams said.
“Then we never need to talk about this again.”
“No, sir.”
Ben looked up from where he was sitting on the edge of a cot as a deputy came to the door of the holding cell and unlocked it. “Whalen?”
“That’s me.”
“You’re out of here.”
Chip was waiting with Adams at the front desk when Ben came out. He had to sign for his wallet and other things that had been taken from him.
“I don’t give a fuck who you know, tough guy, but if you so much as get within a block of Burnham Pike I’ll have your ass back here,” Adams said.
“It’s my first stop,” Ben said. “And you might want to give them the heads-up.”
Outside they walked over to the public parking area where Chip had left the rental Chevy SUV and got in.
“Drop me off at Burnham Pike and then get your ass back out to the airport and take the plane back to D.C.”
“If she’s across the river in Brighton Beach, how are you going to get there?” Chip asked. “Take a subway? I’m driving.”
“You’re not getting involved, this is my problem.”
“The admiral made it mine too. He wants both of us back in one piece, and the only way he knows that’s going to happen is if I tag along and watch your back.”