"Chief Inspector Coughlin for Mr. Davis, please," he said to whoever answered, and then, a moment later: "Dennis Coughlin, Walter. Sorry it took so long to get back to you. I've had a chance to speak with Peter Wohl. The best I have been able to set up is half past four at the Rittenhouse Club. Would that be convenient?"

Davis's reply could not be heard.

"Look forward to seeing you, too, Walter," Coughlin said, and hung up. He looked at Wohl and Payne. "Pay attention, you two," he said, smiling. "Write this down. When dealing with the enemy, never meet him on his own turf-Davis wanted us to come to the FBI office-and, if possible, keep him waiting."

Walter Davis, trailed by Special Agents Howard C. Jernigan and Raymond Leibowitz, walked up to the porter's desk in the Rittenhouse Club at 4:15 and announced, "I'm Mr. Davis. I'm expecting a gentleman named Coughlin."

The porter turned and examined the membership board.

I'll be d.a.m.ned. Coughlin is a member. Of course. He would have to be. He suggested this place to meet. Why didn't I think of that?

"Chief Coughlin is in the bar, sir," the porter said, his tone suggesting that life would be much easier if stupid members took a look at the membership board themselves.

Coughlin, Peter Wohl, and Matt Payne were sitting at a large table-with room for six chairs-and had been there, Davis saw, at least long enough to get bar service.

The three of them stood up as Davis approached.

"You're looking well, Walter," Coughlin said, offering his large hand.

"As you do, Dennis," Davis said, and offered his hand first to Wohl-"Thank you for making time for me, Peter"-and then to Matt. "How are you, Payne?"

"Very well, thank you, sir," Payne said.

"You've met these fellows," Davis said. "But let me introduce them to Peter and Dennis. Raymond Leibowitz and Howard Jernigan."

The men shook hands.

A waiter appeared. Davis ordered a Jack Daniel's on the rocks, Leibowitz the same, and Jernigan ginger ale.

"I'd really like to be somewhere where we won't be overheard," Davis said. "Is there somewhere . . ."

"Matty's father told me they spent a lot of money designing this room," Coughlin said, gesturing at the high, paneled ceiling, "as someplace where people could have discreet conversations. But if you're uncomfortable, Walter, there are private rooms."

"No. I'm sure this will be fine," Davis said.

"You're the commanding officer of Special Operations, I understand, Inspector," Jernigan said, oozing charm.

"Yes, I am," Peter said, and added mischievously, "I understand you've seen our headquarters."

Jernigan colored.

Coughlin laughed, and after a second, somewhat artificially, Davis joined in.

"Let's clear the air," Coughlin said. "Detective Payne should have told your people he was a police officer, and he should not have taken them on-what should we call it?-a tour tour of the scenic attractions of North Philadelphia, and he is prepared to apologize, isn't that so, Matty?" of the scenic attractions of North Philadelphia, and he is prepared to apologize, isn't that so, Matty?"

"Yes, sir. We just got off on the wrong foot. I'm sorry."

The waiter appeared with the drinks.

"I propose a toast to peace, friendship, and cooperation between the Philadelphia Police Department and the Federal Bureau of Investigation," Coughlin said, and raised his gla.s.s.

"A very appropriate toast, one I quickly agree to, under the circ.u.mstances," Davis said.

"What circ.u.mstances would those be, Walter?" Coughlin asked.

"I think I'll let Raymond get into that," Davis said. "But first let me tell you that Raymond and Howard aren't in my office. They operate out of FBI Headquarters in Washington; they're members of the Anti-Terrorism Group."

"Anti-Terrorism?" Matt blurted.

Coughlin and Wohl frowned at him.

"Before we came to see you, Detective Payne," Leibowitz said, "there just wasn't time to check in with the Philadelphia office. If there was, we would have known who you were. Are."

"I thought you were investigating the kidnapping of Susan Reynolds," Matt said. "Actually, the nonkidnapping."

" 'Kidnapping'?" Leibowitz said, visibly surprised. "Where'd you get that?"

"Well, then, what the h.e.l.l were you investigating? She's rich; rich people get kidnapped; she was missing-the FBI knew she was missing. Her father is a very important man; I figured that was why the FBI was working on a weekend."

"Jesus Christ!" Leibowitz said. "You really thought we were investigating her kidnapping kidnapping?"

"I had the feeling you thought I had done it," Matt said. "Understandably, I was a little annoyed."

"Well, I'll tell you what we were investigating, what we are investigating," Leibowitz said. "But it can't go any further than this room."

"I'm sure, Leibowitz," Davis said pointedly, "that we can trust the discretion of Chief Coughlin, Inspector Wohl, and Detective Payne."

Special Agent Leibowitz's face showed that he was more than a little uncomfortable trusting the discretion of Detective Payne.

"Does the name Bryan C. Chenowith mean anything to you, Detective Payne?"

Matt searched his memory, then shook his head, "no."

"Eloise Anne Fitzgerald?"

Matt shook his head again.

"Jennifer Ollwood?"

Matt shook his head.

"Edgar L. Cole?"

Matt held up both hands in a gesture of helplessness.

"Never heard of any of them," he said.

"They're all wanted by both the federal government and the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania on a number of charges-"

"University of Pittsburgh?" Chief Coughlin interrupted.

"Right," Leibowitz said.

Matt looked at Coughlin curiously "So far as we're concerned," Leibowitz went on, "we want them, and some others, on-among other federal charges-unlawful flight to avoid prosecution."

"Prosecution for what?" Wohl asked.

"Murder."

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Coughlin said. "They're the people who blew up the Biological Sciences building at the University of Pittsburgh?"

"Thereby causing the unlawful deaths of eleven persons, according to the indictments handed down by the grand jury in Allegheny County-Pittsburgh."

"As a gesture of their displeasure with the use of monkeys in medical research, right?" Coughlin said, now bitterly. "Eleven innocent people were blown up!"

"Yes, sir," Leibowitz said.

"What's this got to do with Susan Reynolds?" Matt asked, unable to easily accept the accusation that Daffy's friend had been involved in blowing anything up.

"We have reason to believe Miss Reynolds has in the past, and is now, aiding and abetting these fugitives in their unlawful flight," Leibowitz said. "Sufficient reason for us to have obtained permission in federal court for a wiretap on her parents' residence and, for that matter, wherever she happens to be."

"I'm more than a little confused," Wohl said. "How did you guys get to Matt?"

"Well, we'd like to have enough people to surveille her around the clock, but we don't," Leibowitz said. "But we listen to her phone calls, and when something interesting comes up-her mother getting excited that Susan didn't make the usual 'Good night, Mommy dear' phone call and calling Mrs. Nesbitt to find out where Susan was, for example-we act on it."

"She disappeared in the company of a guy named Matt Payne," Jernigan amplified. "Was she really off somewhere pa.s.sing money, or whatever, to Bryan Chenowith, and his murderous band of animal activists? And who is Matt Payne? Is he part of the animal-activist underground railroad? Just as soon as we got the word from the wire tappers-and checked the phone book and found only one Payne, Matthew M. in Philadelphia-we drove up from Washington to find out. "

"She told Daffy-Mrs. Nesbitt," Matt said, "that she was in her room at the Bellvue-Stratford all night, and just hadn't answered the telephone. She wasn't in her room all night."

"How do you know that?" Jernigan asked.

"I know."

"She was with you, you mean?" Jernigan pursued.

"No. The last time I saw her-I told you guys this-she was in the Nesbitts' house in Society Hill. I don't know where she was, but she did not sleep in her hotel room that night."

"How do you know that?" Jernigan demanded.

"Forget I said it."

"How do you know know that she wasn't in her room?" that she wasn't in her room?"

"She didn't use the bed. She strikes me as the kind of a girl who would not sleep on the floor."

"I keep asking you how you know all this."

"I decline to answer the question on the grounds that my answer might tend to incriminate me," Matt said.

"What the h.e.l.l is that supposed to mean, Matty?" Chief Coughlin asked angrily.

"Chief," Matt said after a perceptible pause, "if, hypothetically, someone gained access to premises under conditions that might be considered breaking and entering, wouldn't he be foolish to admit that to the FBI?"

"Jesus, Matty, what the h.e.l.l were you doing?" Coughlin said.

"Why would this hypothetical person we're talking about, Payne," Davis asked, "break into this hypothetical other person's hotel room?"

"We're out of school, Davis, right?" Denny Coughlin came to Matt's defense.

"Absolutely. You have my word," Davis said.

"Watch yourself, Matt," Wohl said, which earned him a look of grat.i.tude from Chief Coughlin and looks of annoyance from Davis, Jernigan, and Leibowitz.

"The morning after the party, I got a call from Chad Nesbitt, who, like his wife, was under the impression that Susan Reynolds had left the party with me. They thought she had spent the night with me. I told them she hadn't-"

"Who is this guy Nesbitt?" Jernigan asked. "This is the first time that name came up."

"He's in the grocery business," Matt said.

"Matty!" Coughlin warned, and then turned to Jernigan and explained: "Nesbitt's father is chairman of the board of Nesfoods International."

"We have noticed that a number of these people who like to blow things up in the name of love for animals come from the, quote, better families, unquote," Jernigan said. "Is there any chance Mr. Nesbitt might be connected with Chenowith and Company?"

"I think that's very unlikely," Matt said, coldly angry.

"Why?"

"Well, he's an ex-Marine, for one thing."

"So am I," Leibowitz said. "But on the other hand, so was Lee Harvey Oswald."

"I think we can safely proceed on the a.s.sumption that Mr. Nesbitt-or his wife-is not in sympathy with these people you're looking for," Wohl said. "Payne was telling us about his telephone call."

"Right. So Nesbitt asked me, since I live only a couple of blocks away from the Bellvue, to go there and see what I could find out."

"As a police officer, you mean?" Leibowitz asked. "Your friend was now concerned with the welfare of the Reynolds woman? Because she was missing?"

"He was concerned because his wife was on his back about her friend," Matt said. "And I went to the Bellvue as a civilian. Not as a police officer."

"And while you were there, you somehow found yourself in her hotel room?" Leibowitz asked.

"I didn't say that," Matt said.

"Payne, we're all on the same side here," Davis said.