"Nobody pays attention to what I say is what I'm driving at. I'll try again. I'm going to suggest to Commissioner Czernich than an investigation of certain allegations concerning the Narcotics Unit is in order, and that it should be conducted by the Ethical Affairs Unit. Therefore, Mike Weisbach will be in charge. I am also going to suggest to the Commissioner that he direct Peter, Denny, and you, Matt, to provide Mike with whatever he thinks he needs to get the job done. Now, is that clear in everybody's mind?"
There was a chorus of "Yes, sir."
"And since everybody involved is an experienced police officer, it will not be necessary for me to tell you that the best way to blow this investigation is to let those scumbags even suspect somebody's taking a close look at them, right? Do I make that point? I want them. I want them bad. If there's anything worse than a drug dealer, it's a police officer either hiding drug dealers behind his badge, or, God forbid, dealing drugs himself."
He looked around at all of them.
"Peter, since you'll be working closer with Mike than anybody else, once a day, either Fellows or myself will telephone you and you'll tell us what's happened in the past twenty-four hours. You'll also keep Matt and Denny up to speed. As little as possible in writing. Papers have a way of turning up in the wrong hands."
"Yes, sir," Peter Wohl said.
SIX
When Matt Payne glanced into the lobby as he drove past the Delaware Valley Cancer Society Building, he saw two men in business suits sitting on the leather-and -chrome seats facing the receptionist's desk.
Except for the Wachenhut rent-a-cop the Cancer Society installed behind the receptionist's desk, they closed down tight at night and on weekends. It was therefore possible-even likely-that anyone in the lobby was waiting for him, not for someone connected with the Cancer Society.
He slowed and took a closer look. He recognized neither man. He shrugged and drove around the block, to the rear of the building, where he had to get out of the Porsche and use a difficult key to open the steel door lowered on weekends over the entrance to the basement garage. He entered the garage, then got out of the Porsche again to reclose the door.
He rode to the fourth-floor landing on the elevator, unlocked his door, and climbed the narrow stairway to his apartment.
Which seemed to be in even a greater mess than he remembered. An unpleasant sweetish odor told him that he had again forgotten to get rid of the goddamned garbage under the sink. He would, he realized, have to deal with both problems tonight.
Just as soon as he dealt with his answering machine, the red light of which was blinking.
"Matt," the recorded voice said. "Mike Weisbach. Sorry to bother you on your day off. If you get in before, say, half past ten, give me a ring at home, will you? 774- 4923."
He slumped onto the couch and reached for the telephone.
A woman answered.
"Inspector Weisbach, please. Detective Payne returning his call."
"Hi, Matt. This is Natalie. I'll get him."
"Thank you."
Why the hell can't I remember her name?
"Hey, Matt. Glad I caught you."
"What's up, Inspector?"
"Peter Wohl asked me to call you. We'll be working together on the Five Squad mess."
"Yes, sir. I spoke with the inspector earlier. He said he thought we'd get stuck with that."
"I'm going to get together with everybody in the morning, nine o'clock, your office. But what I'm calling about now is the tapes."
"Yes, sir."
"It seems to me the first thing we need is the tapes. How are they coming?"
"Slowly and painfully."
Weisbach chuckled.
"Captain Sabara said you were working on them late last night."
"Yes, sir."
"How would you like some more overtime, Detective Payne?"
"I'm very much afraid the inspector means tonight," Matt said.
"Other plans, Matt? Unbreakable?"
"No, sir. I can go out there. But, Inspector, I can't finish them tonight."
"Maybe we can come up with something tomorrow. Get you some help. But the more I could have before the meeting tomorrow, the better."
"Yes, sir. I'll go out there and do what I can."
"I appreciate it, Matt. Maybe I can make it up to you."
"I'll do what I can, sir."
"Thank you, Matt. See you in the morning."
"Yes, sir."
Matt put the telephone back in its cradle.
"Shit!" he said.
His doorbell sounded.
"Now what?"
He had an intercom, but it was less trouble to go down the stairs and open the door than to use it, and he did so.
The two men he had seen in the lobby were standing there.
"Matthew Payne?" the taller one said.
Matt nodded.
"I'm Special Agent Jernigan of the FBI, and this is Special Agent Leibowitz." He showed Matt his identification, then went on: "We'd like to talk to you. May we come in?"
"Talk to me about what?"
"May we come in?"
"Talk to me about what?" Matt repeated.
"If you don't mind, Mr. Payne, we'll ask the questions, " Special Agent Jernigan said.
"What is this, some sort of a joke?" Matt asked, aware that his temper was simmering just below the surface.
"I assure you, this is not a joke."
"Ask your questions," Matt said.
"Is Miss Susan Reynolds in your apartment?"
"I don't see how that's any of your business, but no, she's not."
"We'll decide what's our business, if you don't mind."
"And I will decide whether or not I'll answer your questions, if you don't mind."
"You understand, of course, Mr. Payne, that interfering with a federal investigation is a crime?"
"I heard that somewhere. But I also heard that declining to answer questions is not considered interfering with an investigation. I think they call that the Fifth Amendment."
"We understand, Mr. Payne," Agent Leibowitz said, "that you were with Miss Reynolds last night?"
Matt understood when Leibowitz spoke that Leibowitz was the senior agent of the two, and that Leibowitz had opened his mouth only because he understood that Agent Jernigan and the interviewee had developed a personality conflict that would interfere with the interview.
"Yes, I was," Matt said.
"Would you mind telling us where you went with her when you left the Nesbitt residence together?"
"I did not leave the Nesbitt residence with anyone," Matt said.
Christ, have these guys been talking to Daffy? What the hell is this all about?
"We believe you did," Agent Leibowitz said.
"Frankly, I don't care if you believe in the Easter Bunny," Matt said. "I'm telling you I left the Nesbitt residence alone, and that's absolutely the last thing I'm going to tell you until you tell me what this is all about."
"I don't understand your hostility, frankly, Mr. Payne," Leibowitz said. "You have something against the FBI?"
"Some of my best friends are FBI agents, but I don't think I would want my sister to marry one," Matt said.
Matt saw that Agent Jernigan's face had grown red. And that pleased him.
"Where are you employed, Mr. Payne?" Jernigan asked, somewhat menacingly.
"I don't think you're supposed to be asking any more questions, are you? Didn't Agent Leibowitz take over the interview?"
"Thank you for your time, Mr. Payne," Agent Leibowitz said, and walked toward the elevator.
"'Bye, now," Matt said. "Have a nice night!"
He started back up the stairs to his apartment.
I wonder what the hell that was all about?
Jesus! Kidnapping?
Did somebody kidnap Susan Reynolds? That would involve the FBI.
And they must have talked to Daffy.
And she told them Susan had left with me, because that's what she told Susan's parents.