"Larkin," he said, and then a moment later, "Ask them to come in, please."
Lieutenant Jack Malone, in plainclothes, and Sergeant Jason Washington, in a superbly tailored, faintly plaided gray suit, came into the office.
"Charley, you know Jack," Wohl said. "The slight, delicate gentleman in the raggedy clothes is Sergeant Jason Washington. Jason, Charley Larkin. Watch out for him, he and my father and Chief Coughlin are old pals."
Larkin walked around the desk to shake Washington's hand.
"You know the line, 'your reputation precedes you'?" he asked. "I' m glad you're working with us on this, Sergeant. Do you know Joe Toner?"
"Only by reputation, sir," Washington said. He turned to Toner, who, obviously as an afterthought, stood up and put out his hand.
"How are you, Sergeant?"
"Pretty frustrated, right now, as a matter of fact, Mr. Toner," Washington said.
"I'm Joe Toner, Lieutenant," Toner said, and gave his hand to Malone.
"You mean you didn't come here to report we have our mad bomber in a padded cell, and we can all go home?" Wohl asked.
"Boss, we laid an egg," Washington replied. "We've been through everything in every file cabinet in Philadelphia, and we didn't turn up a looney tune who comes within a mile of that profile."
"And we just checked the Schoolhouse. There has been no, zero, zilch, response from anybody to the profiles we passed around the districts."
"Who's holding the phone down?" Wohl asked.
"Lieutenant Wisser," Malone replied. "Until two. Then a Lieutenant Seaham?"
"Sealyham?" Wohl asked.
"I think so. Captain Sabara arranged for it. He'll do midnight to eight, and then O'Dowd will come back on," Malone said. "We stopped by the Schoolhouse, and talked to them.Sealyham on the phone. If they get anything that looks interesting, they're going to call either Washington or me."
Wohl nodded his approval.
"You've had a busy day," he said.
"Spinning our wheels," Jason said.
"I don't offer this with much hope," Charley Larkin said, "but this is the profile the FBI came up with. Did you stumble on anyone who comes anywhere near this?"
He handed copies to both Washington and Malone.
"There's coffee," Larkin said. "Excuse me, I should have offered you some."
Both Malone and Washington declined, silently, shaking their heads, but Washington, not taking his eyes from the sheet of paper, lowered himself onto the couch between Wohl and Toner. The couch was now crowded.
"This is just about what Matt's sister came up with," Washington said.
"'Matt's sister'?" Toner asked.
"Dr. Payne, sir," Washington said. "A psychiatrist at the University of Pennsylvania. She's been helpful before. Her brother is a detective, Matt Payne."
"Oh," Toner said.
"The FBI says that this guy is probably a 'sexual deviate,'"^: Malone quoted, "Dr. Payne says he's 'asexual.' What's the difference?"
"Not much," Washington replied. "'Celibacy is the most unusual of all the perversions,' Oscar Wilde."
Larkin and Wohl chuckled. Toner and Malone looked confused.
"And anyway," Washington went on, "Jack and I went through the files in Sex Crimes too. Same result, zero."
"Who's Oscar Wilde?" Malone asked.
"An English gentleman of exquisite grace," Washington said. " Deceased."
"Oh."
"Sergeant Washington," Larkin said. "Would you mind if I called you 'Jason'?"
"No, sir."
"Jason, I'd like to hear your wild hairs," Larkin said. "I think we all would."
"Yeah," Wohl agreed.
"This chap is going to be hard to find," Washington said. "He's the classic face in the crowd. Law abiding. Respectable. Few, if any, outward signs of his mental problems."
"We know that," Wohl said, a touch of impatience in his voice.
"Possibly a rude question: How wide have we thrown the net?" Washington asked.
"Meaning?" Toner asked.
"Wilmington, New Jersey, even Baltimore. For that matter, Doylestown, Allentown? Is there a record that matches the profile right over the city border in Cheltenham?"
"Our people, Sergeant," Toner said, somewhat coldly, "have taken care of that. Plus seeking cooperation from other federal agencies, making that profile available to them."
"It was a question worth asking, Jason," Wohl said, flashing Toner an icy look.
"Please ask whatever pops into your mind," Larkin said.
"What about the Army? For that matter, the Navy, the Marines? Coal companies, whatever? Have there been any reports of stolen explosives?"
"Not according to Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms," Larkin said. "Or the State Board of Mines, in Harrisburg."
Washington shrugged.
"I don't even have any more wild hairs," he said.
"In that case, there is obviously only one thing to do," Larkin said, and waited until the others were all looking at him. "Consult with John Barleycorn. It would not be the first time in recorded history that a good idea was born in a saloon."
Supervisory Special Agent Toner, Wohl thought, looks shocked at the suggestion. But Larkin means that, and Christ, he may be right.
"I'll drink to that," Wohl said, and pushed himself up off the couch.
"We don't have any luggage," Matt said as he drove up the curving road to the Oaks and Pines Lodge Resort. "That's going to look funny."
"Yes, we do," Penny replied. "And neither the bellhop nor the desk clerk will suspect that there's nothing in there but my clothes, including, incidentally, a rather risque negligee."
Matt remembered Jensen saying he would put her bag in the car. He looked in the back seat. There was a fairly large suitcase, made out of what looked like a Persian rug.
"You really came prepared, didn't you?" he asked.
"Life is full of little surprises," Penny said. "What's wrong with being prepared?"
A bellman came out to the Mercedes in front of the lodge.
"Good evening, sir," he said. "Checking in?"
"Yes."
"I'll take the luggage, sir, and I'll take care of the car. If you'll just leave the keys?"
Penny took his arm as they walked across the lobby to the desk. " My name is Payne," Matt said to the man behind the desk. "I have a reservation."
"Yes, sir, I spoke to you on the phone."
Matt handed him his American Express card.
"I have to be in Philadelphia at eight," he said. "Which means Iwe-will have to leave here in the middle of the night. Is that going to pose any problems?"
"None at all, sir. Let me run your card through the machine. And then just leave, whenever you wish. We'll mail the bill to your home."
He pushed a registration card across the marble to him, and handed him a pen. At the very last moment, Matt remembered to write "M/M," for "Mr. amp; Mrs.," in front of his name.
"Thank you," the desk man said, and then raised his voice. "Take Mr. and Mrs. Payne to the Birch Suite, please."
They followed the bellman to the elevator, and then to a suite on the third floor. The Birch Suite consisted of a large, comfortably furnished sitting room, a bedroom with a large double bed, and a bath, with both a sunken bathtub and a separate tile shower.
Matt tipped the bellman and he left.
"The furniture's oak," Matt said. "They should call it 'the oak suite.'"
"Don't be critical," Penny called from the bedroom.
"I'm not being critical. It's very nice."
"The food's good too."
"How do you know that?"
"I've been here before, obviously."
With Tony the Zee? Is this where that Guinea gangster brought you? Why not? It's supposed to have a Mob connection.
"With my parents," Penny said. "Not what you were thinking."
"How do you know what I was thinking?"
"I usually know what you're thinking," Penny said. "Come look at this."