Then he walked back to the Bellevue-Stratford Hotel.
The Nesbitts had rented two large adjoining suites on the seventh floor for Chad's out-of-town guests. The Brownes had done the same thing for Daffy's friends, putting the girls up in a series of rooms on the fifth floor. It was inevitable that they should find each other, and there was a party just getting started when he got there. The official pre-wedding party, in a ballroom on the mezzanine floor, would not start for an hour.
He had been in the room less than five minutes when one of Chad's Marine Corps buddies answered the telephone, then stood on a coffee table, holding up the phone, and bellowed,"At ease!"
When he had everyone's attention, some of it shocked, he politely inquired, "Is there a Mr. Matthew Payne in the house?"
"Here," Matt said, and went and took the phone, certain that it would be Jason Washington. It was not.
"Matt, if he comes to the church drunk," Daffy Browne said, "I'll never speak to you again as long as I live."
"Would you be willing to put that in writing?"
"Oh, Matt, please!"
"I'll do my best, Daffy," Matt said.
"Try to remember this is the most important day in ourlives," Daffy said.
"Right."
"He listens to you, Matt, you know he does."
He was looking at Chad Nesbitt. Chad had a Bloody Mary in his hand.
Bullshit, he listens to me!
"Relax, Daphne," he said. "I'll get him to the church on time."
Daffy was not amused. She hung up. Matt put the telephone down and walked over to Chad.
"That was the bride-to-be," he said. "She wants you sober for the wedding."
"Well, one doesn't always get what one wishes, does one?"
"Come on, Chad. You get pissed and I'm the villain."
"Who's going to get pissed?"
Matt decided he was wasting his breath.
If he wants to drink, he will drink. He does not listen to me. If he gets pissed, Daffy will be pissed off with me, and that means that I will not be able to get her alone and ask her, between old pals, what she knows about Penny and Tony the Zee. Shit!
A gentle hand brushed his back.
"I thought maybe you'd be here," Amanda said.
She was so close that he could smell her perfume. She was wearing a skirt and a crisp white blouse.
Jesus, she's beautiful!
"Hi," he said.
"I understand that this disreputable character has been keeping you out all night," Chad said to Amanda.
Amanda walked away without replying, or even showing that she had heard him. Matt walked after her. She headed for the door; he caught up with her there.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"If you're having a good time," she said, "by all means stay."
He followed her into the corridor and to the elevator.
"I heard all that," she said. "You did everything you could be expected to do."
"Tell Daffy," he said.
"I intend to," Amanda said.
That pleased him very much.
"There's a couple of bars right here in the hotel," he said as they stepped onto the elevator.
"No bars, thank you," she said.
"Okay. Then how about Professor Payne's famous walking tour of downtown Philadelphia until it's time for the cocktail party?"
"No cocktail party for me, thank you just the same."
"Then where would you like to go? What would you like to do?"
She looked up at him with mischief, and something else, in her eyes.
"Really?" he asked after a moment.
"Really," she said.
Somehow their hands touched and then grasped, and holding hands, they walked out of the elevator and through the lobby and then to the apartment over the Delaware Valley Cancer Society on Rittenhouse Square.
At five minutes to five Lieutenant Tony Lucci knocked at Staff Inspector Peter Wohl's office door, waited to be told to come in, and then announced, "Everyone's here, Inspector."
"Ask them to come in, please, Tony," Wohl said. He was sitting on the front edge of his desk. Chief Inspector Dennis V. Coughlin and his driver, Sergeant Tom Lenihan, who had come to Bustleton and Bowler ten minutes before, were sitting on the couch.
"Harris has the Lewis kid with him, Inspector. Him too?"
"Why not?"
I recognize your dilemma, Tony, my boy. His Honor the Mayor has told you to keep your eye on things, or words to that effect. And now, with, so to speak, a conference at the highest levels of this little fiefdom about to take place behind a closed door without you, you don' t quite know how to handle it. Are you going to ask if I want you in here? If you do that, it would be tantamount to admitting that you are functioning as the mayor's little birdie. Or are you going, so to speak, to put your ear to the keyhole? Desperately hoping, of course, that I won't catch you at it.
"Yes, sir," Lucci said.
Captains Mike Sabara and David Pekach, Detectives Jason Washington and Tony Harris, and Officer Foster H. Lewis, Jr., filed into the office.
Lieutenant Lucci stood in the open door, almost visibly hoping that he would be told to come in.
"Chief," Wohl said, "do you know Officer Lewis?"
"How are you?" Coughlin said, offering his hand. "I know your dad."
Wohl looked at Lucci in the door, his eyebrows raised in question. Lucci quickly closed the door.
"For reasons I can't imagine, Officer Lewis is known as Tiny," Wohl said. "He's been helping Tony."
There were chuckles and Coughlin said, "Good experience for you, son."
"Tiny, would you ask Lucci to come in here?" Wohl said.
Coughlin looked at Wohl curiously as Tiny went to the door.
Lucci appeared in a moment.
"Tony, get yourself a pad and sit in on this, please," Wohl said. Lucci disappeared for a moment, then returned with a stenographer's notebook and three pencils in his hand.
"Tony, I want you to make note of anything you think the mayor would like to know. I know he's interested in what we're doing, and you're obviously the best person to tell him.
From now on I want you to stay in close touch with him, so that he's up-to-date on what's happening."
"Yes, sir," Lucci said, now very confused.
Coughlin's and Wohl's eyes met for a moment; Wohl thought he saw both amusement and approval in Coughlin's eyes.
This is either proof of my general, all-around brilliance in How to Deal with the Honorable Jerry Carlucci, or one more proof of the adage that when rape is inevitable, the thing to do is relax and enjoy it.
"From now until we can clear these jobs-Officer Magnella, Anthony J. DeZego, and Penelope Detweiler," Wohl began, "I think we should have a meeting like this every day. At this time of day, probably, but that can be changed if need be. And I think we should start by hearing what Tony has."
"I've got zilch," Tony Harris said.
"That's encouraging," Coughlin said sarcastically.
"Officer Magnella, on routine patrol in the 22^nd District," Harris said, "was shot by the side of his RPC near the intersection of Colombia and Clarion between eleven-ten and eleven twenty-five. We know the time because he met with his sergeant at eleven-ten, and the call from the civilian that a cop had been shot came at eleven twentyfive. The medical examiner has determined that the cause of death is trauma caused by five.22-caliber-.22 Long Rifle, specifically-lead bullets, four in the chest, and one in the upper left leg.
"Officer Magnella did not,did not, get on the radio to report that he was doing anything at all. When he met with his sergeant, he did not indicate to him that anything at all was out of the ordinary. In fact, he commented that it had been an unusually quiet night. Neither his sergeant, nor his lieutenant, was aware of him taking any kind of a special interest in anything in his patrol area.Nobody in the 22^nd had any idea that he was on to something special. There have been no reports of any special animosity toward him specifically, or the 22^nd generally.