According to senior police officials, it is most likely that Miss Detweiler was an innocent bystander caught in the middle of a mob exchange of gunfire, but this reporter has learned that police are quietly investigating the possibility that Miss Detweiler knew DeZego, and possibly may have gone to the parking garage to meet him.
In a surprise development last night, Police Commissioner Thaddeus Czernick announced that responsibility for the investigation of the shooting had been assigned to Staff Inspector Peter Wohl and the Special Operations Division. Such an investigation would normally be conducted by the Homicide Division.
Commissioner Czernick also assigned to Wohl the investigation of the murder of Police Officer Joseph Magnella, who was shot to death last night in North Philadelphia. (See related story, Page 3A.) One theory advanced for this unusual move was the reassignment of ace Homicide Detectives Jason Washington and Anthony J. Harris to Special Operations during the search for the North Philadelphia serial rapist.
"They've got my name in here," Amanda said, "but not yours."
"TheLedger never mentions a cop's name unless they can say something nasty about him," Matt said.
"Really?" Amanda said, not sure if he was serious or not. She put her hand on theBulletin. "What does that one say?"
"About the same thing," Matt said.
"Through?" Amanda asked, and slidthe Bulletin away from Matt's side of the table.
He saw her eyes widen when she got to the place in the story about him. She glanced at him, then finished the story.
"You never told me about that," she said.
"Yes I did," Matt said. "You said if you had a car like mine and somebody dinged it, you'd kill him. And I said somebody did and I had."
The waitress appeared with a stainless-steel coffee pot. Amanda waited until she had poured the coffee and left.
"I thought you were just being a wiseass," she said.
"You should have seen what he did to my car," Matt said. "He was lucky I didn't get really mad."
"Matt,stop!."
"Sorry," he said after a moment.
And a moment after that Amanda reached out and caught his hand. They sat that way, holding hands and looking into each other's eyes, until the waitress delivered breakfast.
NINE
There was a fence around the Browne place in Merion, field-stone posts every twenty-five feet or so with wrought-iron bars between them. The bars were topped with spear points, and as a boy of six or seven Matt had spent all of one afternoon trying to hammer one loose so that he would have a spear to take home.
There was also a gate and a gate house, but the gate had never in Matt's memory been closed, and the gate house had always been locked and off-limits.
When he turned off the road, the gate was closed, and he had to jump on the brakes to avoid hitting it. And the door to the gate house was open. A burly man in a dark suit came out of it and walked to the gate.
A rent-a-cop, Matt decided. Had he been hired because the Princess of the Castle was getting married? Or did it have something to do with what had happened at the parking garage?
The rent-a-cop opened the left portion of the gate wide enough to get through and came out to the Porsche.
"May I help you, sir?"
"Would you open the gate, please? Miss Spencer is a guest here."
The rent-a-cop looked carefully at both of them, then smiled, said, "Certainly, sir," and went to the gate and swung both sides open.
Matt saw that a red-and-white-striped tent, large enough for a two-ring circus, had been set up on the lawn in front of the house. There were three large caterer's trucks parked in the driveway. A human chain had been formed to unload folding chairs from one of them and set them up in the tent, and he saw cardboard boxes being unloaded in the same way from a second.
Soames T. Browne, in his shirt sleeves, and the bride-to-be, in shorts and a tattered gray University of Pennsylvania sweatshirt that belonged, Matt decided, to Chad Nesbitt, were standing outside the castle portal when Matt drove up. The rent-a-cop had almost certainly telephoned the house. Matt saw another large man in a business suit standing just inside the open oak door.
"I'll see you later," Matt said, waving at the Brownes with his left hand and touching Amanda's wrist with his right.
Amanda kissed his cheek and opened her door.
Soames T. Browne came around to Matt's side. Matt rolled the window down.
"Morning."
"Daffy said Amanda was probably with you," Browne said. "You should have called, Matt."
"Matt had to work-" Amanda said.
"Surehe did," Daffy snorted.
"-and I waited for him."
"Come in and have some coffee, Matt," Soames T. Browne ordered. "I want a word with you."
"I can't stay long, Mr. Browne."
"It won't take long," Browne said.
Matt turned the ignition off and got out of the car. There was a breakfast room in the house, on the ground floor of one of the turrets, with French windows opening onto the formal garden behind the house. Soames Browne led Matt to it, and then through it to the kitchen, where Mrs. Soames T. Browne, in a flowing negligee, was perched on a stool under a rack of pots and pans with a china mug in her hand.
"Good morning," Matt said.
She looked over him to Amanda.
"We were worried about you, honey," she said.
"I was with Matt," Amanda said.
"That's what we thought; that's why she was worried," Daffy said.
"We should have called. I'm sorry," Matt said.
"We were just going to do something about breakfast," Mrs. Browne said. "Have you eaten?"
"We just had breakfast, thank you," Amanda said.
"I didn't know Matt could cook," Daffy said sweetly.
"Coffee, then?" Mrs. Browne asked.
"Please," Amanda said.
"Do you know how Penny is, Matt?" Soames T. Browne asked.
"As of midnight she was reported to be 'critical but stable,'" Matt said.
"How do you know that?"
"My boss told us," Matt said.
"That was seven hours ago," Soames T. Browne said.
"Would you like me to call and see if there's been any change?"
"Could you?"
"I can try," Matt said. He looked up the number of Hahneman Hospital in the telephone book and then called.
"I'm sorry, sir, we're not permitted to give out that information at this time."
"This is Officer Payne, of the police."
"One moment, please, sir."
The next voice, very deep, precise, that came on-line surprised Matt: "Detective Washington."
"This is Matt Payne, Mr. Washington."
"What can I do for you, Matt?"
"I'm trying to find out how Penelope Detweiler is. They put me through to you."
"For Wohl?"
"For me. She's a friend of mine."
"I heard that. I'll want to talk to you about that later. At six o'clock they changed her from 'critical' to 'serious.' "
"That's better?"
Washington chuckled.
"One step up," he said.
"Thank you," Matt said.
"You at Bustleton and Bowler?"
"No. But I'm headed there."
"When you get there, don't leave until we talk."
"Yes, sir."
"Don't call me sir, Matt. I've told you that."
The phone went dead. Matt hung it up and turned to face the people waiting for him to report.
"As of six this morning they upgraded her condition from ' critical' to 'serious,' " he said.
"Thank God," Soames T. Browne said.
"Mother, I'm sure Penny would want us to go through with the wedding," Daphne Browne said.
"Why did this have to happennow?"Mrs. Soames T. Browne said.