But there was a place sc.r.a.ped free of rust on the gate hinges.
Somebody"s been in here, and recently. f.u.c.k it. If I don"t go in, I"ll be up all night wishing I had.
He drove slowly around the compound, flashing his flashlight into dark corners, wishing that he had with him the six-cell flashlight he carried in his unmarked car, rather than the little two-celler he kept in the glove compartment of the Chevrolet.
Zilch.
But then the headlights, not the flashlight, picked up tire tracks in the mud. The mud hadn"t had a chance to dry completely.
Harry deduced, Some son of a b.i.t.c.h has been in here, and in the last couple of days. Some son of a b.i.t.c.h has been in here, and in the last couple of days.
Probably the bureaucrat.
But maybe not.
He stopped the Chevrolet and got out and examined the tire tracks sufficiently to determine they were truck tires, light truck tires. From a pickup truck, not pa.s.senger tires.
What the h.e.l.l is going on around here?
He walked to the nearest building and shone his light on the exposed hinges of the steel door. Bright scratches in the rusted metal told him the door had recently been opened.
He pushed the door open and went inside.
He walked down the corridor.
The smell of feces and urine a.s.sailed his nostrils.
Some f.u.c.king b.u.m is in here. Or was in here. I hope was. The last thing I want right now is to find some dead b.u.m in here. I"d never get home tonight. What a smart man would do would be turn around and get his a.s.s out of here.
There were three doors opening off the corridor. Two of the doors were open.
In one of the rooms, his nostrils found the source of the smell of feces.
And a pile of clothes.
Nice clothes. Not a b.u.m"s clothes.
What the h.e.l.l is going down in here?
The third door was closed, with latches that reminded Cronin of his time as Fireman First Cla.s.s, USN.
The last time he had been in here, all the doors had been open.
Harry worked the levers and pushed the door inward.
Somebody"s taken a dump in here, too.
What the f.u.c.k is that?
"Listen, we have to talk!" a naked man sitting against the wall with an overcoat over his shoulders said plaintively. "Please, let"s talk!"
"I"m a police officer," Harry said. "Everything"s going to be all right."
"Thank G.o.d!" the man said.
"You want to tell me what happened?"
"You"re a policeman?"
"Detective Cronin, South Detectives."
"Look, all I want to do is go home. Where"s my clothes?"
"What did you say your name was?"
"All I want to do is go home."
"I don"t think that"s going to be possible right now," Harry said. "Now, what did you say your name was?"
"I don"t have to tell you a G.o.dd.a.m.n thing!" the naked man said with absolutely no confidence, but a certain desperation, in his tone.
What the f.u.c.k do I do now? I"m off-duty. I"ve got no authority inside that f.u.c.king fence. And, since I"m in my own car, I don"t even have a G.o.dd.a.m.n radio to call this in!
Matt Payne, who had been watching a program of television commercials interrupted by three-minute segments of a John Wayne leading the cavalry against the Chiricahua Apache movie, jumped out of bed when there was a knock at the door, went to it, stood behind it, and pulled it open first a crack, then all the way.
"It"s not that I am not delighted to see you, but does your mommy know where you are, little girl?"
"I hope not," Susan said. "Would it be too much to ask you to put your shorts on?"
"Don"t trust yourself, eh?"
"Oh, G.o.d!"
"What did you do, sneak out?"
He went to the chest of drawers, found a pair of Jockey shorts, and pulled them on.
"Okay?"
"Thank you."
"Under the circ.u.mstances, I suppose a blow-"
"I"ve heard that before, Matt-my G.o.d, you can be vulgar!-and I don"t think it"s funny."
"Why do I have this unpleasant feeling that we are about to have a very serious conversation?"
"Because we are," Susan said. "I"ve been thinking."
"Pure, as.e.xual thoughts only, obviously."
"I"ve been thinking about what you said at lunch."
"I said a lot of things at lunch," Matt replied. "You mean about letting me arrest Jennifer?"
Susan nodded. "Would that work?"
"It"s iffy, honey," Matt said now serious. "Starting with the first premise, that she can get away from Chenowith."
"She met me alone the last time. Behind a restaurant in Doylestown. And she had their baby with her."
"And if she doesn"t bring the baby this time?"
"Matt, this was your idea in the first place."
"I"m trying to think of all the things that can-and probably will-go wrong."
"Tell me what will happen from the moment you arrest her."
"Well, I put the cuffs on her-and there"s problem one, because I don"t have any handcuffs."
"Excuse me?"
"My handcuffs are in Philadelphia. When you first go on the job, you carry your handcuffs with you all the time. After a while, you realize (a) that not only aren"t you using them very much-in my case, never-and (b) that they"re uncomfortable to carry around, so you start leaving them at home, which is where mine are."
"Is that important?"
"Yeah, it"s important. From what you tell me, Jennifer is not going to go to the slammer willingly. I"m going to have to immobilize her."
"Can you buy a pair of them here?"
"I don"t know. I"ll have to do something."
"And then what?"
"Well, I could put her arm behind her back, and physically restrain her-which isn"t as easy as it looks in the movies-until I can get on the radio and call for the local cops. I"m not sure, problem two, if the Doylestown cops are on one of my frequencies. We"d have to play that by ear."
"I"m confused."
"Presuming she will meet you in Doylestown, we won"t know if I can call the cops on the radio until we get there and I can try it. Let me put it this way. Best possible situation. I put handcuffs on her, throw her in the back of the car, and drive her to the Doylestown Police Station. They"ll hold her for me-I think-if I identify myself as a Philadelphia cop who has made an arrest in their jurisdiction. . . ."
Matt stopped, obviously having had another, distressing, thought.
"What?" Susan asked, picking up on this.
"If the Doylestown cops, or the state police, see you, they"ll wonder who you are. So we can"t let them see you. And . . ."
He stopped again, and then, after a long moment, shrugged.
"What"s that shrug of resignation all about?" Susan asked.
He met her eyes.
"My orders are quite clear," he said. "I am not to do anything but inform the FBI when I think you are about to go meet any member of the Chenowith Group. I am not supposed to try to make the collar by myself. I"ve been told that by everybody but the mayor."
"So you"ll be in trouble?"
He nodded.
"And you don"t want to do it, now that you"ve thought it over?"
"I didn"t say that," he said. "What we"re doing now is talking. The money is another problem. My priority is to get you out of this mess. I"m trying to figure the best way to do that. And the thing we have to keep in mind is what Lincoln said."
"What Lincoln Lincoln said?" said?"
" "You can fool all of the people some of the time, and some of the people all of the time, but you can"t fool all of the people all of the time," " Matt quoted. "We"ll be dealing here with some very bright people. We-"
"You"re talking about the cops?"
He nodded. "And the FBI. Most of what really will have happened is going to come out. Right now, they can"t prove-although I"m sure they suspect-that you"ve been holding the money for them. Maybe throwing the money in the river is the best thing to do with it. You would have to lie under oath-or at least claim the Fifth Amendment-that you never had it."
"I"m not a very good liar."
"You"re better than you think you are," he said. "On the other hand, we could try this. . . ."
He stopped, and visibly considered what he was about to say until Susan"s curiosity got the best of her.
"What, Matt?"
"It"s closer to the truth. h.e.l.l, it is the truth. Our story is that I made you realize the error of your ways. I convinced you that holding the money for these people was the wrong thing to do, and that your only chance was to cooperate with the authorities-me-and you (a) turned the money you had been holding over to me, and (b) arranged for me to meet, and thus be able to arrest, Jennifer, in exchange for me offering you immunity from prosecution."
"Can you do that?"
"I wish I could. No, I can"t. But cops have lied before, to get information they want, and if a lawyer can make the jury feel sorry for the accused, because she-you-were lied to, they might go a little easier on you. Maybe, knowing they were facing a d.a.m.ned good lawyer, the U.S. Attorney might decide to nol pros nol pros that one charge. It"s unlikely, but possible. He"s got other charges against you-meeting Chenowith in the Poconos, for one example-that he"s not going to have any trouble proving." that one charge. It"s unlikely, but possible. He"s got other charges against you-meeting Chenowith in the Poconos, for one example-that he"s not going to have any trouble proving."
"I am going to prison, aren"t I?"
"It looks that way," Matt said almost idly. "But going with this repentant-sinner line, let me think out loud a little more. Are you sure sure you know where Chenowith is?" you know where Chenowith is?"
"I know where they were living, if that"s what you mean."
"You could lead someone there?"
"I"m not going to lead the FBI there, if that"s what you"re suggesting, not with Jennie and the baby in the house. He"s not just going to give up, and you told me he"s got a machine gun. I don"t want Jennie or the baby shot."