Matt saw that McFadden had no idea who was shaking his hand.

Charley's father put that in words. "Who're you?" he asked.

"Mr. McFadden," Lieutenant Pekach said, "this is Chief Inspector Coughlin. And that's Sergeant Lenihan. I'm afraid I don't know the other gentleman."

"My name is Matthew Payne," Matt said, putting out his hand.

"Matt is ... Captain Moffitt was Matt's uncle," Coughlin said.

"I'm sorry about your uncle," Charley McFadden said. Then he realized that he should be standing, and got up. He looked at Coughlin. "You're Chief Inspector Coughlin," he said, but there was a question, or disbelief, in his voice.

"That's right," Coughlin said.

"Could I offer you gentlemen a little something to drink?" Mrs. McFadden asked.

"All I got, I'm afraid, is the Seagram's Seven," Mr. McFadden said.

"Well, we're all off duty," Coughlin said. "I think a little Seagram's Seven would go down very nicely."

More cheese gla.s.ses were produced, and filled three-quarters full of whiskey. .

"I'm afraid the house is a terrible mess," Agnes McFadden said.

"Looks fine to me," Dennis Coughlin said. He raised his gla.s.s. "To Officer McFadden, of whom we're all very proud."

"I didn't want that to happen to him," Charley McFadden said, very slowly. "Jesus Christ, that shouldn't happen to anybody.''

"Charley," Coughlin said, firmly. "What happened to Gallagher, he brought on himself.''

Charley looked at him, and finally said, "Yes, sir."

"Lieutenant Pekach, may I see you a moment?" Coughlin said, and signaled Matt to come along.

They went to the vestibule.

"Where's his partner?" Coughlin asked.

"He was here, Chief. His doctor gave him something to calm him down, and it didn't mix with the booze. I sent him home."

"McFadden on anything?"

"No, sir." Pekach said. "He's got a thing about pills. He won't even take an aspirin."

"How long are you going to stay?"

"As long as necessary," Pekach said. "The booze will get to him, sooner or later.''

"Had you planned to write him up?"

"A commendation?" Pekach asked. "I hadn't thought about that. But yes, sure."

"Not only 'at great risk to his life,' " Coughlin said. "But 'exercising great restraint,' et cetera, et cetera. You follow me?"

"Yes, sir."

"This is going to be all over the papers," Coughlin said. "George Kegley tells me that Mickey O'Hara was even up on the elevated tracks. What's that going to do to McFadden on the streets?"

"Well, he won't be much use, not what he's been doing," Pekach said.

"I'll find something else for him to do." Coughlin said. "When you're that age, working plainclothes, and they put you back in a uniform, you think you did something wrong. I don't want that to happen."

"I'll find something for him, Chief," Pekach said.

When they went back in the kitchen, Officer McFadden was being nauseous in the sink. Coughlin put out his hand and stopped Matt from going in, then gestured for Sergeant Lenihan to come along with them.

When they were in the car, moving north on South Broad Street, Coughlin reached forward and touched Matt Payne's shoulder. Matt turned and looked at him.

"Still think you want to be a cop, Matt?" he asked.

"I was just wondering how I would react in a situation like that," Matt said, softly.

"And?"

"I don't know," Matt said. "I was wondering. But to answer your question, yes, I still want to be a cop."

Coughlin made a grunting noise.

"Tom," he ordered, "when you get to a phone, call Pekach and tell him I want that boy and his partner at the funeral tomorrow. And then find out who's in charge of the seating arrangements and make sure they have seats in Saint Dominic's."

"Uniform or plainclothes?"

Coughlin thought that over a moment. "Uniforms," he said. "I think uniforms. Tell Pekach to make sure they get haircuts and are cleaned up."

"I've got to check my machine," Peter said, when he and Louise had returned from dinner and put the Jaguar into the garage. "It won't take a minute."

"I'll go with you," she said, and caught his hand and held it as they walked up the stairs. Inside the apartment, as he snapped on the lights, he saw that she was standing very close, looking at him.

She wants to be kissed, he realized. Jesus, that's nice.

But when he put his arms around her, and she pressed her body against his, and he tried to kiss her, she averted her face.

"I've got some Lavoris," Peter said.

She chuckled.

"No," she said. "That's not it. But I'll be on the air at eleven, and I don't want everybody in the Delaware Valley thinking, 'That dame looks like she just got out of bed."'

"You really think it shows?" he asked, smelling her hair.

"Once might not," she said. "But we seem to have a certain tendency to keep going back for seconds."

"G.o.d, you feel good," Peter said, giving in to an urge to hug her tightly.

"Duty calls," Louise said, freeing herself. "Yours and mine. See what your machine says."

There were a number of messages. Barbara Crowley had called.

"Peter, your mother called and asked me if I was going to the wake. I told her that I expected to hear from you. Please call me. I'll go over there with you, if you want me to."

And Detective Jason Washington had called: "This is Jason Washington, Inspector," his recorded voice reported tinnily. "It's five-thirty. In a manner of speaking, we have Gerald Vincent Gallagher. McFadden, the kid from Narcotics who identified the girl, went looking for him, and found him at the Bridge Street Terminal. The reason I say 'in a manner of speaking' is that Gallagher got himself run over by a subway train. After he hit the third rail. h.e.l.l of a mess. McFadden knew Gallagher, of course, and so did a couple of guys from the Fifteenth District. But under the circ.u.mstances, I think, and so does Lieutenant Natali, that they'll probably want Miss Dutton to identify the body as that of the man she saw in the Waikiki. They just took the body to the medical examiner's. Do you think you could get in touch with her, and take her down there around seven, seven-thirty? I'd appreciate it if you could call me. I'll either be here at the office, or at the M.E.'s, or maybe home. Thank you."

And Lieutenant Louis Natali had called: "Inspector, this is Lou Natali. Jason Washington said he called and left a message on your machine about an hour ago. It's now quarter to seven. Anyway, it's now official. Captain Quaire requests that you get in touch with Miss Dutton, and bring her by the M.E.'s to identify Gallagher as the guy she saw in the diner. You better warn her he's in pieces. The wheels cut his head off, intact, I mean. I'll try to have them cover the rest of him with a sheet, but it's pretty rough. And would you call me, please, when you get this? Thank you."

And Chief Inspector Matt Lowenstein had called: "Peter, what the h.e.l.l is going on? I need that woman to identify Gallagher. n.o.body seems to know where you are, so I called the TV station. I was going to very politely ask her if I could take her to the M.E.'s myself, and they tell me they don't know where she is, only that she left there with you. Jesus, it's half past eight, and I've got to get over to Marshutz & Sons for the d.a.m.ned wake."

That message ended abruptly. Peter was quite sure that Chief Inspector of Detectives Matt Lowenstein had glanced at his watch toward the end, seen the time, thought out loud, and then slammed the phone down.

The machine reached the end of the recorded messages and started to rewind.

"What was that all about?" Louise asked.

"Well, apparently an undercover cop spotted-"

"Who was she?" Louise interrupted.

It took him a moment to frame his reply.

"Three days ago, I would have said she was my girl friend," he said.

"Nice girl?"

"Very nice," he said. "Her name is Barbara Crowley, and she's a psychiatric nurse."

"That must come in handy," Louise said.

"Everybody who knows us, except one, thinks that Barbara and I make a lovely couple and should get married," Peter said.

"Who's the dissenter? Her father?"

"Me," Peter said. "She's a nice girl, but I don't love her."

"As of when?"

"As of always," Peter said. "I never felt that way about her."

"What way is that?"

"The way I feel about you," Peter said.

"I suppose it has occurred to you that about the only thing we have going for us is that we screw good?"

"That's a good starting place," Peter said. "We can build on that."

She met his eyes for a long moment, then said: "I'm not going to go look at a headless corpse tonight."

"Okay," he said. "But you will have to eventually."

"What if I just refuse?"

"You don't want to do that," Peter said.

"What if I do?"

"They'll get a court order. If you refuse the order, they'll hold you in contempt, put you in the House of Correction until you change your mind. You wouldn't like it in the House of Correction. They're really not your kind of people."

She just looked at him.

"I'll call Jason Washington and tell him to meet us at the medical examiner's tomorrow morning. Say, eight o'clock," Peter said.

"I've got to work in the morning," she said.

"We'll go there before you go to work," Peter said, and then added: "I thought you told me you went to work at two o'clock?"

"I usually do," she said. "But tomorrow, I've got to cover a funeral."

"You didn't tell me that," he said.

"It's my story," she said. "I was there when it started, remember?"

He nodded. They looked at each other without speaking for a moment.

"Why are you looking at me that way?" Louise asked. "What are you thinking?"

"That you are incredibly beautiful, and that I love you," Peter said.

"I know," she said. "I mean, that you love me. And I think that scares me more than going to go look at a headless body ... or a bodyless head."

"Why does it scare you?"

"I'm afraid I'll wake up," she said. "Or, maybe, that I won't."

"I don't think I follow that," he said.

"I think we better get out of here," she said. "Before we wind up in the playroom again."

"Let me call Washington," Peter said.