"I thought perhaps tonight, if she didn't have previous plans."

"In Philadelphia?" she asked incredulously.

"No. Not in Philadelphia. Here. Harrisburg."

"You're in Harrisburg?"

"Yes, ma'am. On business."

"I really thought for a minute that you wanted to have dinner tonight with Susan in Philadelphia."

"No, ma'am. I'm here. And I thought she might be willing to have dinner with me."

"Well, I'll tell you what," Mrs. Reynolds said, and there was a long pause. "You come here and you can have dinner with Susan's daddy and me. And, of course, Susan."

"I wouldn't want to impose," Matt said.

"Not at all," she said. "And I want to get a look at you, and give you a piece of my mind. You will come to supper, and that's that."

"In that case, thank you."

"You may change your mind about that after Susan's daddy lets you know what he thinks about you keeping Susan out all night."

"Yes, ma'am."

"We eat at seven-thirty sharp when we're at home. Is that convenient?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do you know where we are?"

"No, ma'am. Just that you're in Camp Hill."

"I'll give you directions. They're not as complicated as they sound. Have you a pencil?"

"Yes, ma'am."

THIRTEEN.

Matt was in the shower when the telephone rang, and walked, dripping, to the telephone, wondering both who was calling him and why he had bothered to wrap a towel around his waist when he was alone in the suite.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"It took you long enough to answer the phone," Peter Wohl said.

"There's no phone in the shower," Matt said.

"Denny Coughlin suggested I call you," Wohl began. "Actually, he suggested I talk to you when you checked in. According to Weisbach, you haven't found time in your busy schedule to do that."

"I checked in with Jason Washington the minute I got to the hotel. What's up? Some-"

"Washington didn't say anything to me," Wohl said, just a shade defensively.

"Boss . . ."

"Okay. Sorry I jumped on you."

"Your father called out here," Matt said.

"My father called out there? What did he want?"

"I don't know. He called Chief Mueller-"

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Matt called.

There was a rattling of the doork.n.o.b, but the door remained closed.

"Hold it a minute," Matt said. "There's somebody at the door."

"Room service, no doubt," Wohl said. "Go ahead."

Matt put the phone down and walked to the door, standing behind it when he opened it, so that only his face would show to whoever was in the corridor.

"Jesus H. Christ!" Matt said in genuine surprise when he had opened the door. "Sorry, I gave at the office."

The wit sailed two feet over the head of Miss Susan Reynolds.

"May I come in?" she asked icily.

"There are several problems with that, as delighted as I am to see you," Matt said. "One of them being I'm wearing only a towel."

"Put your pants on," Susan said. "I'll wait."

"Don't go away," Matt said, and rushed into the bedroom, pulled on a pair of slacks, and trotted quickly back to the half-open door.

"Come in, please," he said, opening it wide.

Susan stepped inside the room, and closed the door.

"Problem two is that I'm on the phone," he said.

"Go ahead," Susan said, and went to the couch and sat down.

Matt picked up the telephone.

"I don't suppose I could call you back?" he said.

"What's going on?"

"I'd rather not say."

"It will have to wait," Wohl said. "This won't take long."

"Yes, sir."

"What Denny Coughlin wanted me to say to you-and incidentally, I agree with all of this-is that he thinks what he ordered you-the operative word here is 'ordered'-to do about Chenowith went in one ear and out the other. Do you remember that order?"

"Yes, sir."

"Prove it. What did he say?"

"This is a very bad time for that, Inspector," Matt said.

"What did he say, Matt? What did he order you to do?"

"I'd really rather call you back when I have a chance to refresh my memory," Matt said.

"You're telling me you've forgotten?" Wohl asked incredulously.

"No, sir."

Wohl suddenly caught on.

"She's there?" he asked, even more incredulously.

"That's the long and the short of it, Inspector."

"In that case, call me back when you have a free minute. In the meantime, Matt, for Christ's sake, remember those people are dangerous."

"I'll keep that in mind, sir," Matt said.

The phone went dead.

Matt looked at Susan. The way she was sitting with her legs crossed on the couch gave him a good view of a shapely calf, moving in what looked like annoyance or impatience, and a view of her upper leg halfway up her dress.

Whatever she looks like, she doesn't look dangerous.

"Sorry," he said. "That was my boss."

"You want to tell me what's going on here?"

"You mean with him and me, or you and me?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Working," he said.

"Working?" she repeated.

"I've been sent up to look into some bank records," Matt said. "Lieutenant Deitrich of White Collar Crimes is going to get me into the banks."

"What kind of bank records?"

"What are we doing, playing Twenty Questions?"

"I'm curious, all right?"

"There were some not very nice people in Philadelphia who had what we call ill-gotten gains, which we suspect they have hidden out here in the provinces. I have been sent to see if I can find said ill-gotten gains."

"Not very nice white-collar people?"

"Actually, this is not at all a nice character. What this character is is what you could call a White Shirt with a dirty collar."

"Why do I have the feeling we are talking two different languages?"

"There was a call girl ring in Philadelphia, who had a Vice lieutenant on the payroll. In the quaint cant of the police trade, lieutenants and up are called 'White Shirts,' possibly because their uniform shirts are white."

"You do a lot of this sort of thing?" she asked.

"Jobs like this are handed out to junior detectives," Matt said. "I am a very junior detective. Before I was promoted to do things like search bank records, I spent a lot of time investigating recovered stolen motor vehicles. That is the bottom rung of my profession, like Chad going into grocery stores and begging them to buy two more cases of Nesbitt's World Famous Tomato Soup."

That earned him another smile.

"I have trouble really believing you're a cop."

"So do a lot of people," Matt said. He decided it was time to change the subject. "I am of course delighted to see you. If I had known you were coming, I would have had champagne on ice. But I am just a little curious."

"I have to talk to you," Susan said.

"I may be a junior detective, but I am a brilliant junior detective, so let me demonstrate my Sherlock Holmes-like deductive skills: There has been a change in plans, and your mother's kind invitation to break bread has to be withdrawn."

"I wish it was that simple," she said. "I need a big favor from you."

"I suppose I could let you have a couple of bucks until payday. Presuming you have some sort of collateral."

"Aren't you ever serious?"

"Only when there is no possible alternative. How may I a.s.sist you, fair lady?"

"You can let my parents think we were out until very late listening to Dixieland jazz."