"First," Malone said, "what's your job?"
"Me? Precinct Lieutenant."
"Of this precinct?"
Lynch stared. "What else?" he said.
"Who knows?" Malone said. He found the black notebook and passed it
across to Lynch. "I'm on this red Cadillac business, you know," he said
by way of introduction.
"I've been hearing about it," Lynch said. He picked up the notebook
without opening it and held it like a ticking bomb. "And I mean hearing
about it," he said. "We haven't had any trouble at all in this
precinct."
"I know," Malone said. "I've read the reports."
"Listen, not a single red Cadillac has been stolen from here, or been
reported found here. We run a tight precinct here, and let me tell
you--"
"I'm sure you do a fine job," Malone said hastily. "But I want you to
look at the notebook." He opened it to the page with Lynch's name on it.
Lynch opened his mouth, closed it and then took the notebook. He stared
at the page for a few seconds. "What's this?" he said at last. "Another
gag?"
"No gag, lieutenant," Malone said.
"It's your name and mine," Lynch said. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Malone shrugged. "Search me," he said. "The notebook was found only a
couple of feet away from another car theft, last night." That was the
simplest way he could think of to put it. "So I asked the Commissioner
who Peter Lynch was, and he told me it was you."
"And it is," Lynch said, staring at the notebook. He seemed to be
expecting it to rise and strike him.