Mrs. Reynolds came into Susan's room as she was undressing.

"Did you have a good time?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, we did. He taught me to put Roquefort on a cracker and then take a swallow of wine."

"Daddy used to do that," Mommy said.

"Did he really?"

"He seems to be a very nice young man," Mommy said.

"For a cop," Susan said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"At least he's working, and according to Mr. Emmons, very highly regarded in his chosen profession."

"And what else did Mr. Emmons have to report?"

"He's very comfortable. I mean, personally, now. And the Paynes are more than comfortable."

"Where do you think we should be married, Mommy?" Susan said.

"Don't be like that, Susie, you asked!"

"Sorry."

"Are you going to see more of him?"

"I'm afraid so."

"I think you like him."

"Good night, Mommy."

Mrs. Reynolds turned as she pa.s.sed through Susan's door.

"Mary-Ellen Porter called," she said.

"Who?"

"Mary-Ellen Porter. She said you were together at Bennington."

Since I never heard the name Mary-Ellen Porter until this moment, then it has to be either Jennie or Eloise.

"Oh, of course. Mary-Ellen. Mary-Ellen. What did she want?" What did she want?"

"She said she would call you at work tomorrow. I told her they didn't like that, but she said she had to talk to you in the morning."

"I wonder what she wants?" Susan asked, more or less rhetorically.

FIFTEEN.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," James C. Chase said. "It's always a pleasure to see you. How can we be of a.s.sistance this morning?"

The bra.s.s sign on Chase's large, highly polished desk in his gla.s.s-walled office off the main room of the First Harrisburg Bank & Trust Company identified him as "Vice President."

Matt had instantly decided that Chase was the exception to the general rule that most banks had as many vice presidents as they did tellers, and that the t.i.tle had come in lieu of a pay raise and carried with it very little authority.

This man-fifty-something, gray-haired, very well-tailored-had the look and bearing of someone in authority, used to making decisions.

"This is Detective Payne, of the Philadelphia Police Department," Lieutenant Deitrich said.

The announcement visibly surprised Chase, but he quickly recovered and offered Matt his hand.

"How do you do?" he asked.

"How do you do, sir?" Matt replied.

"Payne, you said?"

"Yes, sir."

"I was in school with a chap from Philadelphia named Payne," Chase said. "Brewster C. Payne. I don't suppose there's any chance-"

"He's my father, Mr. Chase," Matt said.

"Then I really am delighted to meet you. How is your father? I haven't seen him in several years, I'm afraid."

"Very well, thank you, sir."

Well, I just got handed the keys to the bank didn't I?

"You make sure to give him my very best regards."

"Yes, sir, I will."

Wait a minute!

If this guy is really an old pal, why didn't Dad at least mention him when I told him I was coming to Harrisburg?

If Chase really is a good friend-and I think he thinks he is, which doesn't mean Dad reciprocates, of course-not mentioning him wasn't wasn't an inadvertent oversight. Because Dad doesn't think of him the same way? No. He would have warned me about something like that. an inadvertent oversight. Because Dad doesn't think of him the same way? No. He would have warned me about something like that.

Maybe because Dad didn't want to lean on his old school chum on behalf of the cops? Or because he knew that it would quickly come to Chase's attention that a Philadelphia detective named Payne wanted to nose around his bank? And that Chase would either ask-as indeed, he just did-or call Dad and ask.

In the latter instance, that got Chase off the hook. If he wants to be nice to the son of his old buddy, fine and dandy. If he doesn't, he doesn't have to, and since Dad didn't ask Chase didn't have to say "no." No hard feelings.

You are are a smart one, Dad! Clever. Subtle. A real cla.s.s act. a smart one, Dad! Clever. Subtle. A real cla.s.s act.

It's amazing, as the saying goes, that the older I get, how much smarter you get.

And what was it you told me about banks? "Most bank presidents are figureheads, who spend their time talking to the Kiwanis and the Rotary and drumming up business on the golf course. Banks are run by their boards of directors, through the secretary or treasurer of the corporation, or sometimes a vice president."

Why do I suspect that I have just met that "sometimes vice president"? And that Lieutenant Deitrich d.a.m.ned well knows where Mr. Chase fits into the power structure around here?

"Now, how may I be of a.s.sistance?" Chase asked.

"We have reason to believe that someone engaged in criminal activity in Philadelphia has moved money to Harrisburg," Matt said. "Concealing it."

"And you're here to see if you can find it? And obviously with the blessing of Chief Mueller, or Lieutenant Deitrich wouldn't be with you."

Deitrich nodded.

"Yes, sir," Matt said.

"Are you at liberty to tell me the source of the funds?"

"One of our officers has been suspended, and indicted for taking money from a madam who was operating a call girl ring in Center City," Matt said.

"That's one of the more lucrative 'occupations,' I understand. Do you have a search warrant?"

"For the property of the officer concerned. His name is Seymour Meyer. He was a lieutenant."

"I suppose it would be too much to hope he would have an account, or a safe-deposit box, in his own name, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, sir," Matt said. "I have a list of names of relatives, friends-"

"Well, we'll look first-we might get lucky-for any accounts in this man's name. Or a safe-deposit box in his name. Your warrant-you have it with you?"

Matt reached into his jacket and came out with the warrant. Chase read it.

" 'Wherever located,' " he read aloud. "Good. That will give you access to either the details of his account or the box. If we find either. But as far as boxes in another name, or the details of someone else's account . . ."

"Yes, sir. I understand. If, however, there is an account-are accounts-matching the names on my list, I understand the courts have held that it is not a violation of the client's confidentiality if a bank were to review the account and tell me if there were unusual deposits, or unusual activity. Without divulging the amounts involved, of course. With that, something out of the ordinary, I'm sure we can go back to the judge and get additional search authorization."

"You know your business, don't you?" Chase asked, and went on without giving Matt a chance to reply. "What I'll do, Mr. Pay-Would you mind if I called you by your first name?"

"Not at all, sir. 'Matt.' "

"What I'll do, Matt, is get you a desk, and then I'll get a list of our account holders and box holders, and you can start your search."

"That's very kind of you, sir."

"May I see your list of names?"

"Yes, sir, of course," Matt said, reached in his pocket for it, and handed it to him.

"I'll have my girl make a Xerox of this, and start the process rolling."

"I think you're set up here, Payne," Deitrich said. "When you finish here, give me a ring, and I'll take you around to First National."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Matt said.

"Mr. Chase," Deitrich said, nodded at the banker, and left the room.

When he was out of earshot, Chase looked at Matt and smiled.

"He doesn't talk very much, does he?"

"No, sir."

"But he's a good man. We've had some-what do I say, 'business'?-together, and I must confess I was very impressed with him."

"He gives me that impression, too, sir."

"Ordinarily, Matt, I'd install you in a small room off the lobby, but I think I can, for my old friend's son, do a little bit better than that."

He walked to the gla.s.s door of his office and waved Matt through. Then he walked ahead of Matt across the lobby to another gla.s.s-walled office like his own, but somewhat smaller.

A middle-aged woman sat at a desk outside it.

"Dolores," Mr. Chase said, "I can't believe you'll find anything, but would you have a quick look for anything of a confidential nature in Mr. Hausmann's desk? This is Mr. Payne, who will be using it for a while while Mr. Hausmann is in Boston."

"I'll check," she said, getting up and smiling at Matt. "You're from First Chicago, Mr. Payne?"

"No, ma'am."

"What Mr. Payne is doing here is confidential, Dolores."

"I see," she said. "Well, this won't take me a moment. Mr. Hausmann is very careful about things of a confidential nature."

She went into the office and came out in less than a minute.

"Nothing on top, and everything else is locked."

"Thank you," Chase said. "Now, I'm sure that you would have done everything you could to make Mr. Payne welcome, even if I didn't tell you his father and I are old friends. Cla.s.smates, as a matter of fact."

"Of course."