"Well," she said. "Look who woke up."
"I wasn't asleep, Delilah," he said. "I watched you get out of bed."
"Delilah?"
"I never really thought she rendered Samson helpless by giving him ahaircut," Peter said. "That was the edited-for-children version."
"You Samson"-she chuckled-"me Delilah?"
"And as soon as I get my strength back, I'll tear the temple down," Peter said. "Actually, what I have to do is face the dragon in his lair."
"Now I'm the dragon? The dragon lady?"
"I was referring to Chief Inspector Matt Lowenstein, our beloved chief of detectives," Wohl said. He reached to his right, away from her, and took his wristwatch from the bedside table. He glanced at it, strapped it on, and said, "I've got to see how the Nelson investigation is going, and then go see Arthur J. Nelson. I'm late now."
"Then why aren't you out of bed, getting dressed?" she asked.
He held his arms out, and she came into them. He kissed the top of her head.
She purred, "Nice."
"I wasn't sure you would like me to do that," he said, her face against his chest.
"Why not?"
"It'safter, " Peter said. "Women have been known to regret a moment of passion."
"I was afraid when I came back in here, you would be all dressed and ready to leave," she said. "Because it'safter."
He laughed, and pulled his head back so that he could look at her face.
"Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am?" he asked.
"You're the type, Peter," she said.
"You like this better?"
"Much better," she said.
"Blow in my ear, and the world is yours," he said.
She giggled and kissed his chest.
"There's no small voice of reason in the back of your mind sending up an alarm?" she asked." 'What am I getting myself into with this crazy lady?' "
"What the small voice of reason is asking is, 'What happens when she realizes what she's done? The TV Lady and the Cop?' "
"That would seem to suggest there was more for you in what happened than one more notch on your gun." Louise said.
"If I wasn't afraid it would trigger one of your smartass replies, I would tell you it's never been that way for me before," Peter said.
She pushed herself into a sitting position and looked down at him.
"For me, either," she said. "I mean, really, I had to ask you."
"Oh, come on," he said.
"Yes, I did," she said. "And that suggests the possibility that I'm queer for cops. What do they call those pathetic little girls who chase the bands around?'Groupies'? Maybe I'm a cop groupie."
"This is what I was afraid of," Peter said. "That you would start thinking."
"Why shouldn't I think?"
"Because if you do, sure as Christ made little apples, you'll come up with some good excuse to cut it off between us."
"Maybe that would be best, in the long run," she said.
"Not for me, it wouldn't," he said.
" 'He said, with finality,' " Louise said. "Why do you say that, Peter? So… With such finality?"
"I told you before, it was never that way for me. before," Peter said.
"You don't think that might be because you saw a friend of yours slumped dead against the wall of a diner yesterday afternoon? That sort of thing would tend, I would suppose, to excite the emotions. Or that I might be at a high emotional peak myself? I was there, too, not to mention poor little Jerome?"
"I don't give a damn what caused it, all I know is how I feel about what happened," Peter said. "I gather this is not what they call a reciprocal emotion?"
"I didn't say that," Louise said quickly. "Jesus Christ, Peter, I didn't know you existed this time yesterday!" she said. "What do you expect from me?"
He shrugged.
She looked into his eyes for a long moment. "So where does that leave us? Where do we go from here?"
"How would you react to a suggestion that it's a little warm in here, and you would probably be more comfortable if you took the robe off?"
"I was hoping you would ask," she said.
"Where the hell have you been?" Leonard Cohen demanded of Louise Dutton when she walked into the WCBL-TV newsroom. "I called all over, looking for you."
"I was a little upset, Leonard," Louise said. "I can't imagine why. I mean, why should something unimportant like walking into a room and finding someone you knew and liked hacked up like… I can't think of a metaphor- hacked up?"
"It was a story, Lou," Cohen said.
She glared at him, her eyebrows raised in contempt, her eyes icy.
"It was pretty bad, huh?" he said, backing down.
"Yes, it was."
"What I would like to do, Lou," he said, "is open the news at six by having Barton interview you. Nothing formal, you understand; he would just turn to you and say something like, 'Mr. Nelson lived in your apartment building, didn't he, Louise?' and then you would come back with, 'Yes, and I found the body.' "
"Fuck you, Leonard," Louise said.
He just looked at her.
"For Christ's sake," she said. "The address has been in the papers
…"
"And so has your name," he countered.
"I've seen the papers," she said. "There must be ten Louise Duttons in the phone book, and none of the papers I saw made the connection between me and here. If it is made, every creepy-crawly in Philadelphia, including, probably, the animals who killed that poor little man, will come out of the woodwork looking for me."
"Why should that bother you? Aren't you under police protection?"
"What does that mean?"
"Just what it sounded like. I called the Homicide guy, DelRaye, Lieutenant DelRaye, when I couldn't find you, and he said that I would have to talk to Inspector Wohl, that Wohl was 'taking care of you.' "
"I am not under police protection," she said, evenly. "I'll tell you what I will do, Leonard. I'll look at what you have on tape, and if there's anything there that makes it worthwhile, I'll do a voice-over. But I am not going to chat pleasantly with Barton Ellison about it on camera."
"Okay," Leonard Cohen replied. "Thank you ever so much. Your dedication to journalism touches me deeply. Who's Wohl?"
"He's a cop. He's a friend of mine. He's a nice guy," Louise said.
"He's the youngest staff inspector in the police department," Cohen said. "He was also the youngest captain. His father is a retired chief inspector, which may or may not have had something to do with his being the youngest captain and staff inspector. What he usually does is investigate corruption in high places. He put the head of the plumber's local, two fairly important Mafiosi, and the director of the Housing Authority in the pokey just before you came to town."
She looked at him, her eyebrows raised again.
"Very bright young man," Cohen went on. "He normally doesn't schmooze people. I'm sure, you being a professional journalist and all, that you have considered the police department may have a reason for assigning an attractive young bachelor to schmooze you."
"You find him attractive, Leonard, is that what you're saying?" Louise asked innocently. "I'll have to tell him."
His lips tightened momentarily, but he didn't back off.
"You're going to see him again, huh?"
"Oh, God, Leonard, I hope so," Louise said. "He's absolutely marvelous in the sack!" She waited until his eyes widened. "Put that in your file, too, why don't you?" she added, and then walked away.
TEN
Colonel J. Dunlop Mawson was sitting on the sill of a wall of windows that provided a view of lower Market Street, the Delaware River and the bridge to New Jersey.