Matt exhaled audibly.
"Payne went to the Union League," Wohl explained to Pekach, "to tell the Detweiler girl's family what had happened. Lieutenant Lewis, who I suppose was the senior supervisor there then, told him it was okay."
"Dolan didn't mention Lewis," Pekach said.
"Is there a Captain Petcock or something here?" a loud voice interrupted. Matt stopped and turned to the voice. A tall, very skinny, long-haired man in white cook's clothing was holding up a telephone.
"Close." Wohl chuckled. "Go answer the phone, Captain Petcock."
"Yes, sir, Inspector Wall," Pekach said, and got up.
"Miss Spencer-" Wohl began.
"You were calling me Amanda," she said. "Does Miss Spencer mean I' m a suspect again?"
"Amanda,did you ever hear anything about the Detweiler girl being into drugs?"
She hesitated a moment before replying. Matt wondered if she was going to defend Penny Detweiler loyally.
"She took diet pills to stay awake to study sometimes," she said finally. "And I suppose she smokes grass-Iknow she smokes grass-I'm about the only one I know who doesn't. But I never heard anything about her and heroin or cocaine or anything else.Hard drugs."
"Just out of idle curiosity, why don't you smoke grass?" Wohl asked.
"I tried it once and it made me sick," Amanda said.
"Me too," Wohl said, smiling at the look of surprise on Matt Payne's face.
Captain David Pekach walked back up to the table.
"That was Lucci," he said. "There was just a radio call. M-Mary One wants H-Highway One and W-William One to meet him at Colombia and Clarion."
Curiosity overwhelmed Amanda Spender's normally good manners. "MMary One? W-William One? What in the world is that?"
"The mayor is M-Mary One," Wohl explained, somewhat impatiently. " Did Lucci say what the mayor is doing at Colombia and Clarion?"
"They found a 22^nd District cop lying in the gutter," Pekach said. "Shot to death."
"Oh, my God!" Amanda said.
Wohl stood up, fished in his pockets, and came up with a set of keys. He handed them to Payne.
"I'll ride with Captain Pekach, Matt. The Jag's on 12^th Street. Right across from your car. You bring the Jag there. You know where it is?"
Matt shook his head no.
"Just before you get to Temple University on North Broad, turn right," Captain Pekach said. "Couple of blocks in from North Broad. Colombia and Clarion. You won't have any trouble finding it."
"Yes, sir," Matt said.
"Are you going to be able to get home by yourself all right, Amanda?" Wohl asked.
"Sure. Don't worry about me, I've got Matt's car."
Wohl and Pekach hurried away.
"Is it always like this?" Amanda asked.
"No," Matt said. "It isn't."
He went to the counter and paid the bill. When they got outside to 12^th Street, he handed Amanda the keys to the Porsche.
"Wouldn't it be easier if I just got in a cab?" she asked. "Or, how long are you going to be?"
"God knows," he said. "I really don't want to leave the car here. Some street artist would draw his mother's picture with a key on the hood by the time I got back."
"Couldn't I leave it at your apartment, then?" she asked. "Aren't you going to need it?"
"Jesus, would you?" he asked.
"Sure."
"I live on Rittenhouse Square-"
"That's right by the church?"
"Yeah. I live on the top floor of the Delaware Cancer Society Building-"
"Where?" she asked, chuckling.
"You can't miss it. Anyway, there's a parking garage in the back. Just drive in. There's two parking spaces with my name on them. And there's a rent-a-cop on duty. He'll call you a cab."
He started to hand her money. She waved it away. "Nice girls don't take cab fare," she said. "Haven't you ever heard of women's lib?"
"This has been one hell of a date, hasn't it?" he said.
"It lends an entirely new meaning to the wordmemorable," Amanda said.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be an ass," she said, and stretched upward to kiss him.
Whatever her intentions, either to kiss his cheek or, chastely, his lips, it somehow didn't turn out that way. It was not a passionate embrace ending with Amanda semi-swooning in his arms, but when their lips broke contact, there seemed to be some sort of current flowing between them.
"Jesus!" Matt said softly.
She put her hand up and laid it for a moment on his cheek. Then she ran across the street and got in the Porsche.
Matt got in Wohl's Jaguar and drove north to Vine Street, then left to North Broad, and then turned right onto Broad Street. There was not much traffic, and understandably reasoning that he was not going to get ticketed for speeding while driving Inspector Wohl's car to a crime scene, he stepped hard on the gas.
A minute or two later there was the growl of a siren behind him, and he pulled toward the right. An Oldsmobile, its red lights flashing from their concealed position under the grill, raced past him. After a moment he realized that the car belonged to Chief Inspector Dennis V. Coughlin. He wondered if Denny Coughlin, or Sergeant Tom Lenihan, who was driving, had recognized him or Wohl's car or both.
Just south of Temple University he saw that Captain Pekach was right; he would have no trouble finding Colombia and Clarion. There were two RPCs, warning lights flashing, on Broad Street and Colombia, and two uniformed cops in the street.
When he signaled to turn right, one of them emphatically signaled for him to continue up Broad Street. Matt stopped.
"I'm Payne. Special Operations. I'm to meet Inspector Wohl here."
The cop looked at him doubtfully but waved him on.
Clarion is the second street in from Broad. There was barely room for Matt to make it past all the police cars, marked and unmarked, lining both sides of Colombia. There was a black Cadillac limousine nearly blocking the intersection of Clarion and Colombia. Matt had seen it before. It was the mayoral limousine.
Then he saw two familiar faces, Officer Jesus Martinez and the Highway sergeant who had almost made him piss his pants on the roof of the Penn Services Parking Garage by suggesting that the price for moving a fucking muscle would be having his fucking brains blown out, and who had seemed wholly prepared to make good the threat.
They were directing traffic. The sergeant first began-impatiently, even angrily-to gesture for him to turn right, south, on Clarion, and then he apparently recognized Wohl's car, for he signaled him to park it on the sidewalk.
Matt got out of the car and looked around for Wohl. He was standing with Police Commissioner Thaddeus Czernick, Chief Inspector Dennis V. Coughlin, half a dozen uniformed senior supervisors, none of whom looked familiar, two other men in civilian clothing, and His Honor, Mayor Jerry Carlucci.
Twenty feet away, Matt saw Sergeant Tom Lenihan standing with three men Matt supposed were both policemen and probably drivers. He walked over to them.
And then he saw the body. It was in the gutter, facedown, curled up beside a 22^nd District RPC. There were a half dozen detectives, or crime-lab technicians, around it, two of them on their hands and knees with powerful, square-bodied searchlights, one of them holding a measuring tape, the others doing something Matt didn't quite understand.
"Hello, Matt," Tom Lenihan said, offering his hand. "I thought that was you in Wohl's Jag."
"Sergeant," Matt said politely.
"This is Matt Payne, Special Operations-" Lenihan said, beginning the introductions, but he stopped when Mayor Carlucci's angry voice filled the street.
"I don't give a good goddamn if Matt Lowenstein, or anyone else, likes it or not," the mayor said. "The way it's going tobe, Tad, is that Special Operations is going to take this job and get whatever sons of bitches shot this poor bastard in cold blood. And you're going to see personally that the Department gives Wohl everything he thinks he needs to get the job done. Clear?"