The investigators

TEN

When the telephone rang in the elegantly furnished study of his South Philadelphia residence, Mr. Vincenzo Savarese, his jacket removed, his stiffly starched cuffs turned up, his eyes closed, was playing along from memory with a tape recording of the Philharmonica Slavonica 's recording of Max Bruch's Violin Concerto in G Minor, Opus 26, on a circa 1790 G. Strenelli violin for which he had paid nearly fifty thousand dollars.

Mr. Pietro Cassandro, a very large, well-tailored forty-year — old who faithfully paid federal and state taxes on his income as vice president of Classic Livery, Inc., where his duties were primarily driving the Lincolns and Cadillacs in which Mr. Savarese moved about town, frowned when the telephone rang. Mr. S. did not like to be disturbed when he was playing the violin.

Cassandro looked at Mr. Savarese to see his reaction to the ringing telephone. Only a very few people had the number of Mr. Savarese's study.

Mr. S. stopped playing and looked at Cassandro. Then he pointed with the bow at the telephone.

Cassandro picked it up. "Yeah?" he said, listened a moment, then spoke to Mr. S.: "It's the lawyer."

"Mr. Giacomo?" Cassandro nodded. "Tell him I will be with him directly."

Mr. Savarese walked to the reel-to-reel tape recorder and turned it off, and then to a Steinway grand piano on which he had placed the Strenelli violin's case, carefully placed the violin, and the bow, in the case, and then closed it. He then pulled a crisp white handkerchief from his shirt collar and laid that upon the violin case.

Then he walked to Cassandro and took the telephone from him.

"Thank you for returning my call, Mr. Giacomo," Savarese said.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," Armando Giacomo said. "I was in court."

"So your secretary said."

"How may I be of service?"

"I thought you might be interested in hearing that I have had a report from my daughter about my granddaughter. "

"Yes, I would."

"Dr. Payne has seen her three times so far," Savarese said. "Late last night. The first thing this morning, and at lunch. My granddaughter is apparently very taken with her."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"I am grateful to you, Mr. Giacomo, for arranging for me to meet with Mr. Payne."

"I was happy to have been of service."

"And, of course, I am very grateful to Mr. Payne for speaking to his daughter on behalf of Cynthia. That is one of the reasons I asked you to call."

"Brewster Payne was sympathetic to your problem. He is a very nice man."

"What I wanted to do was ask your advice about making some small gesture of my appreciation to Mr. Payne," Savarese said.

"I don't think that's necessary, Mr. Savarese."

"I have several bottles of some really fine cognac I thought would be appropriate."

"May I speak freely, Mr. Savarese?"

"Of course."

"You went to Mr. Payne as a father and grandfather asking help from another father. He understood your problem and did what he could to help, one father helping another, so to speak. Under those circumstances, I don't really think that a gift is in order."

Savarese didn't reply for a long moment.

"You think it would be inappropriate? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes, both unnecessary and inappropriate."

"You're suggesting he would be offended?"

"Let me put it this way, Mr. Savarese," Giacomo said. "If I had gone to Brewster Payne as you did, and he had responded as he did, I would not send him a gift. I would think that in his mind he had done only what a decent human should have done, and therefore, no attempt to repay-"

"I take your meaning, Mr. Giacomo," Savarese interrupted him. "And I respect your wisdom and trust your judgment in matters of this nature."

"Thank you," Giacomo said.

He hoped that his relief at being able to talk Savarese out of sending Brewster Payne a couple-he said "several bottles," so maybe six, maybe a dozen-$500 bottles of French booze was not evident in his voice. There would be no telling how Payne would react. Payne regarded Vincenzo Savarese-loving grandfather or not-as a murdering gangster, and he didn't want-worse, almost certainly would not accept-a present from him. Payne was entirely capable of sending the booze back, which would insult Savarese, and there's no telling what trouble that would cause.

"I would be grateful, Mr. Giacomo, if Mr. Payne could somehow be made aware that I consider myself deeply in his debt."

"I don't think that's necessary, Mr. Savarese. As I said before, Mr. Payne believes, in his mind, that he only did what a decent man was obligated to do."

"When the opportunity presents itself, Mr. Giacomo, as I'm sure it soon will, I would consider it a personal favor for you to tell Mr. Payne that I consider myself deeply in his debt. Would you do that for me, Mr. Giacomo?"

"Of course."

You need anybody shot, Brewster? Somebody stiffing you on a fee, needs to have his legs broken? Just say the word. Vincenzo Savarese told me to tell you he owes you a big one.

"Thank you. And there is one other thing about which I would be grateful for your advice, Mr. Giacomo."

"I'm at your service."

"Could you recommend a good, and by good I mean both highly competent and very discreet, private investigator? "

A private investigator? Now what?

"I don't think I quite understand," Giacomo said.

"I need someone to make some discreet inquiries for me."

"Well, there's a lot of people in that business, Mr. Savarese. I use half a dozen different ones myself. Good people. It depends, of course, on the nature of the information you want."

There was a perceptible pause, long enough for Armando C. Giacomo to decide Savarese was carefully deciding how much, if anything, he was going to tell him.

"What I had in mind, Mr. Giacomo, was to look around my granddaughter's environment, so to speak, and see if I couldn't come up with some hint about what has so greatly disturbed her."

"I don't think I would do anything like that until I'd spoken with Dr. Payne," Giacomo said quickly.

"All this information would be for Dr. Payne, of course."

Unless it turns out that the girl was raped or something-which might damned well be the case-in which case the cops would have an unlawful death by castration to deal with.

"I just don't see where any of the people who work for me would be any good at that sort of investigation. I could ask-"

"That won't be necessary, thank you just the same, Mr. Giacomo. And thank you for returning my call. I'm grateful to you."

"I'm glad things seem to be working out for your granddaughter," Giacomo said.

"Thank you. I very much appreciate your interest," Vincenzo Savarese said, and hung up.

He looked at Pietro Cassandro.

"Mr. Giacomo does not seem to feel that any of the investigators with whom he has experience would be useful, " he said.

Cassandro did not know how to interpret the remark. He responded as he usually did in similar circumstances. He held up both hands, palms upward, and shrugged.

When Vincenzo Savarese's daughter had told him how kind Dr. Payne was, even calling to tell her to bring Cynthia 's makeup and decent nightclothes to her in the hospital, she also said that Cynthia had told her that Dr. Payne had told her she was not to tell her mother, or her father, for that matter, anything that made her uncomfortable to relate.

Savarese hadn't said anything to his daughter, but he'd thought that while that might be-and probably was-good medical practice, it also suggested that there was something that Cynthia would be uncomfortable telling her mother about. He was naturally curious about what that might be.

There was something else Savarese thought odd. The young man Cynthia had been seeing a lot of-his name was Ronald Ketcham, and all Savarese knew about him was that he was neither Italian nor Catholic, and Cynthia's mother hoped their relationship wasn't getting too serious-had not been around since Cynthia had started having her emotional trouble.

"Tell Paulo to put the retired cop to work," Mr. Savarese ordered.

Paulo Cassandro, Pietro's older and even larger brother, was president of Classic Livery, Inc., in which Mr. Savarese had the controlling-if off the books-interest.

"Right, Mr. S.," Pietro Cassandro said. "What do you want me to do with the cognac?"

"Send it back to the restaurant," Mr. Savarese said, making reference to Ristorante Alfredo, one of Philadelphia 's most elegant establishments, and in which he also had the controlling-if off the books-interest.

"Right, Mr. S. I'll do that on my way home."

Mr. Savarese changed his mind.

"Keep out two bottles," he said. "No. Three bottles. Drop them off at Giacomo's office."

"Got it, Mr. S."

Mr. Savarese looked as if he was searching his mind for something else that had to be done, and then, that he had found nothing.

He walked to the Steinway grand piano, took the handkerchief from the top of the violin case, and tucked it into his collar. Then he opened the violin case, took out the bow, tested the horsehair for proper tension, took out the Strenelli, and, holding it by the neck, walked to the reel-to — reel tape recorder and turned it back on.

Then he tucked the Strenelli under his chin, raised the bow to its strings, and began to play along with the Philharmonica Slavonica's rendition of Max Bruch's Violin Concerto in G Minor, Opus 26.

During the briefings given to Detective Matt Payne by the Philadelphia Police Department and the Federal Bureau of Investigation to prepare him for his role in the apprehension of the fugitives Bryan C. Chenowith, Jennifer Ollwood, Edgar L. Cole, and Eloise Anne Fitzgerald (known to the FBI as "The Chenowith Group"), Matt had a number of thoughts he was aware would annoy or confound (probably both) both the FBI and his fellow officers of the Philadelphia Police Department.

The first of these was his realization that Sir Walter Scott had been right on the money when he proclaimed, "Oh, what a tangled web we weave, When first we practise to deceive!"

Chief Inspector Coughlin, Inspector Wohl, Staff Inspector Weisbach, and Sergeant Jason Washington were responsible for bringing this conclusion to Payne's mind.

They had spent the better part of an hour, starting at 8: 15 A.M. in Denny Coughlin's Roundhouse office, conducting a discussion of the cover story Matt would use in Harrisburg. Detective Payne had been present, but it had been made immediately clear to him that his participation had not been solicited and was not desired.

The three senior police supervisors decided that so far as the members of the Special Operations Division Investigation Section were concerned, they would be told that Matt would be in Harrisburg attempting to uncover suspicious financial activity on the part of any member of the Narcotics Unit Five Squad, with special attention being paid to Officer Timothy J. Calhoun, who had relatives in Harrisburg and Camp Hill.

Only those with the need to know were to be made privy to the fact that Matt would also be "cooperating" with the FBI in their investigation of the Chenowith Group while he was in Harrisburg. Weisbach decided those with a need to know were those present, plus Sergeant Sandow.

The Intelligence Division of the Philadelphia Police Department was to be made privy to Matt's role vis-fnbsp;-vis the FBI, but not to the fact that he would be in Harrisburg investigating the Narcotics Five Squad. The Intelligence Division, to prevent any possible leaks that might come to the attention of the Five Squad, was to be told a second cover story. This one had Matt looking into possible connections between vice operations in Philadelphia and Harrisburg.

Chief Coughlin felt this second cover story would have a certain credibility, inasmuch as Lieutenant Seymour Meyer, who had commanded the Central District's Vice Squad, had been relieved of his command and his badge and was presently awaiting trial on charges that he had sold his protection to the madam of a call girl ring.

His replacement-and the new commanding officer of the Central District (Inspector Gregory F. Sawyer, Jr., the former commander, had been relieved of his command at the time of Meyer's arrest)-would be told that the Special Operations investigation of Center City prostitution had not been completed, and that Detective Payne, specifically, was in Harrisburg working on it.

Chief Coughlin also felt, and Inspectors Wohl and Weisbach agreed, that because of the close working relationship between the Central District generally, and the Central District's Vice Squad and the Narcotics Unit, the word would quickly reach the Five Squad that Special Operations had sent Detective Payne to Harrisburg hoping that he would there find the final nails to drive in Lieutenant Meyer's coffin.

This second cover story was the one Mr. Walter Davis would be asked to have the chief of police in Harrisburg-who he said was both an old friend and owed him several favors-spread around the Harrisburg Police Department. The chief of police would be told in confidence that Detective Payne's investigations involved the Chenowith Group, but not that he was looking into the financial affairs of certain members of the Five Squad.

This meant, Matt understood, that Chief Coughlin would prefer that neither the FBI nor the Harrisburg Police Department be aware what specific rotten apples Matt was looking for in the Philadelphia Police Department's barrel.

The FBI Briefing on the Chenowith Group began at 9:45 in the Conference Room of the FBI's Philadelphia office. Present were Chief Coughlin, Inspector Wohl, and Detectives Payne and Wilfred G. "Wee Willy" Malone, a six-foot-four-inch giant of a man who was assigned to the Philadelphia Police Department's Intelligence Unit. The FBI was represented by SAC Walter Davis; ASAC (Administration) Glenn Williamson; ASAC (Criminal Affairs) Frank F. Young; and FBI Special Agents Raymond Leibowitz and Howard C. Jernigan of the Anti-Terrorist Group, and Special Agent John D. Matthews of the FBI's Philadelphia office.

Everyone was seated in comfortable upholstered chairs around a long, glistening conference table. Before each participant had been laid out a lined pad, four sharpened pencils, a coffee mug, a water glass, and an ashtray. Two water thermos bottles, two coffee thermos bottles, and cream and sugar accessories were in the center of the table. On a shelf mounted on the wall were both a slide projector and a 16-millimeter motion picture projector. At the opposite end of the room was a lectern, complete to microphone, and, Matt supposed, controls to operate the lights and the slide and motion picture projectors. A roll-down beaded projection screen was mounted on the wall behind the lectern.

This caused Matt to think, first, This is a hell of a lot fancier than Czernich's conference room in the Roundhouse, and next, Well, what the hell, they're spending federal tax dollars, which no bureaucrat considers real money, so why not?

SAC Walter Davis stepped to the lectern, thanked everyone for coming, and turned the meeting over to ASAC Frank Young, a redheaded, pale-faced man in his forties on the edge between muscular and plump.

Young went to the lectern, thanked everyone for coming, and asked if everybody knew everybody else. Everyone did, except for Wee Willy Malone and Jack Matthews, and Detective Payne and ASAC Williamson, who leaned across the table to shake hands.

"SAC Davis has assigned Special Agent Matthews to liaise with Detective Payne while we're doing this," Young announced. "Presuming that meets with your approval, Chief Coughlin?"

"Certainly," Coughlin said.

What the hell does "liaise with" mean? Detective Payne wondered.

"I thought that the best way to get this show on the road," Young said, "was to run a film we put together showing why we're all looking for the Chenowith Group."

The room lights dimmed and the film projector started.

The seal of the United States Department of Justice appeared on the screen, then the seal of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, then a notice announcing the film was classified "Official Use Only" and was not to be shown to unauthorized persons.

"The Biological Sciences building of the Medical School of the University of Pittsburgh," a voice announced.

The screen now showed still photographs, obviously taken during different seasons of the year, of a three-story brick building of vaguely Colonial design.

"At 5:25 P.M., 1 April," the voice intoned without emotion, "an explosion occurred, causing extensive damage to the building and the deaths of eleven individuals. More than fifty other individuals were injured, some of them seriously. The death count of eleven reflects both immediate deaths and deaths which occurred later."

The screen now showed the building immediately after the explosion.

Looks like they got this from TV news film, Matt thought.

Fire hoses were still playing their streams on the shattered and smoking building, and firemen and police were shown entering and leaving the building. Ambulance crews were treating and transporting injured people, some of them badly injured.

Jesus, they didn't show something like that on the six-thirty news! Matt thought.

The film-now not of "broadcast quality," and including some still photographs and thus probably shot by the police-showed some of the victims who had been killed immediately, where their bodies had been found.

"Holy Mother of God!" someone said, and after a moment Matt recognized Denny Coughlin's voice.

The exclamation was understandable. Legless bodies and heads smashed by tons of steel and concrete are not pretty sights.

"Investigation by the FBI and local agencies," the narrator went on dispassionately, as the screen showed the interior of the building sometime later-the bodies were gone-"indicates that the explosives used were Composition C-4 and Primacord. Composition C-4 is not available on the civilian market, and chemical analysis indicated the composition of the Primacord used to be identical to that procured for the military services.

"This makes it probable that the explosives used were stolen from U.S. military stocks, most probably from the explosives depository of the 173rd Light Engineer Company, Pennsylvania Army National Guard, located on the Indiantown Gap Military Reservation near Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.

"This depository was robbed, at gunpoint, on 13 February. Three hundred pounds of Composition C-4; fifty pounds of Primacord; forty-eight electrical and twenty-five fire-actuated detonating devices; six U.S. carbines, caliber. 30 M2-the M2 is the fully automatic version of the carbine-six. 45-caliber pistols, model 1911A1; and a substantial quantity of ammunition of these calibers was stolen.

"The perpetrators were two white males and at least one white female who drove a Ford panel truck, later determined to be stolen. The perpetrators wore ski masks over their faces, but during the robbery the civilian guard, who was bound, gagged, and blindfolded, was nevertheless able to obtain sufficient vision around his blindfold to make a positive identification of one of the robbers, who had pulled his ski mask off his face. Bryan C. Chenowith, twenty-six, white male, five feet eight, 160 pounds, light brown hair, hazel eyes, no distinguishing markings or features. "

A mug shot of Bryan C. Chenowith appeared on the screen.

"At the time of the Indiantown Gap robbery, Mr. Chenowith was a fugitive from justice on charges of unlawful flight to avoid prosecution in connection with the hijacking at gunpoint of a truck engaged in interstate commerce. The truck contained orangutans being transported from Kennedy International Airport, New York, to the Medical School of the University of Pittsburgh. The animals were freed from their cages near Allentown, Pennsylvania.

"Mr. Chenowith at the time was a student at the University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine. While at the University of Pittsburgh, Mr. Chenowith was active in the Fair Play for Animals and Stop the Slaughter programs."

Another still photograph of Chenowith appeared on the screen. It showed him carrying a sign showing an orangutan tied, Christ-like, to a cross.

"Mr. Chenowith and two of his known associates, Jennifer Downs Ollwood, white female, twenty-five years of age, five feet four inches, 130 pounds, black hair, brown eyes, no distinguishing marks and/or features, and Edgar Leonard Cole, white male, twenty-five years old, five feet ten inches, 170 pounds, dark blond hair, four-inch scar left calf, have been positively identified as having been in and around the Biological Sciences building the day before and the day of the explosion."

Several still photographs first of Jennifer Ollwood and then of Edgar Cole appeared on the screen, as the narrator furnished details of their backgrounds.

Jennifer Ollwood was a rather pretty young woman who wore her black hair in bangs. In one photograph she was wearing a fringed leather jacket. In another, she was pictured holding a sign reading, "Stop the Torture!" and in a third, a sign reading "Save the Animals!"

"Miss Ollwood," the narrator announced, "was an undergraduate student at the University of Pittsburgh at the time of the bombing. She had previously been a student at Bennington College, from which she had been expelled as a result of her participation in antivivisectionist activities, and her arrest for having assaulted a campus police officer. She was active in the animal-activist movement at the University of Pittsburgh."

Edgar Cole had acne so bad that it was visible beneath his scraggly beard.

"Mr. Cole is also a former University of Pittsburgh student, where he was also active in animal-activist activities. At the time of the Indiantown Gap robbery, he was also being sought on unlawful-flight-to-avoid-prosecution warrants in connection with the truck hijacking, and by the Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, police department to answer charges of being in possession of more than one pound of marijuana with intentions of distributing same."

"A trio of outstanding American youth," Wohl offered. "Your lady friend, Matt, has some interesting friends."

"On 3 April," the narrator interrupted, "Pittsburgh police conducted a raid on premises known to have been occupied by Mr. Chenowith and Miss Ollwood and Miss Eloise Anne Fitzgerald, white female, twenty-four years of age, five feet two, 110 pounds, light red hair, pale complexion, green eyes, no distinguishing marks or features, at 1101 West Hendricks Street in Pittsburgh."

A picture of Eloise Anne Fitzgerald appeared on the screen. It showed a demure-looking, short-haired redhead, wearing glasses, and looking about as menacing, Matt thought, as a librarian's assistant.

"This photo of Miss Fitzgerald," the narrator went on, "was acquired from the publisher of the Bennington College yearbook, and portrays Miss Fitzgerald as a sophomore. She was expelled from Bennington at the same time Miss Ollwood was expelled, and for approximately the same reasons, although there is no record of her arrest on any charges anywhere. She subsequently enrolled at the University of Pittsburgh, seeking a degree in social work. She was active there in the animal-activist movement."

The screen next showed first a photograph of the exterior of the house, a large, run-down, Victorian-era building, and then of two rooms inside the house.

"The occupants had recently vacated the premises, apparently in some haste, and leaving behind five pounds of Composition C-4, one point five pounds of Primacord, three electrical detonators, and two M2 carbines and several bandoliers of carbine ammunition.

"It was quickly determined, by their serial numbers, that the recovered firearms were among those stolen from Indiantown Gap. Labeling of the C-4 uncovered at the West Hendricks location indicates it is from the same manufacturing lot as the C-4 stolen from Indiantown Gap; laboratory analysis of the Primacord indicates that it is from the same manufacturing lot as the Primacord stolen from Indiantown Gap; and other tests indicate the detonators are of the same type and age as those taken from the National Guard depository."

The screen now went back to shots of the sparsely furnished apartment in the old house on West Hendricks Street.

"In addition to statements made by other residents of the building at 1101 West Hendricks that Mr. Cole was a frequent visitor to the premises, physical evidence, including fingerprints and personal property, indicates this is the case.

"On 16 April, the Grand Jury of Allegheny County returned indictments against Mr. Chenowith, Mr. Cole, Miss Ollwood, and Miss Fitzgerald, charging them with causing the unlawful deaths by explosive device of eleven individuals. "

The screen now showed-in most cases snapshots, in one case a standard high-school graduation portrait, and in two others police photographs taken in an autopsy room-photographs of the eleven individuals who had lost their lives as a result of the explosives detonated by the Chenowith Group on the University of Pittsburgh campus.

"Mr. Chenowith's and Mr. Cole's difficulties brought them under FBI attention, and after Miss Fitzgerald and Miss Ollwood were positively identified as having been at Bennington College, Vermont, subsequent to their indictment in Pennsylvania, federal indictments were sought and obtained charging both females with unlawful flight to avoid prosecution.

"Because of the nature of the offenses alleged, FBI supervision of the cases involved, collectively referred to as 'the Chenowith Group,' has been assigned to the Anti-Terrorist Group at FBI Headquarters.

"The fugitives sought are known to be armed, and should be considered highly dangerous."

Abruptly the screen went white, and the room lights brightened.

"Nice friends you have, Payne," Wee Willy Malone said.

"I think that we should keep that in mind, Detective Malone," SAC Davis said.

"Excuse me?" Malone asked.

"If I had to offer one reason that the FBI has so far been unable to apprehend these fugitives, the so-called Chenowith Group, it would be that they are 'nice.' They all come from upper-middle-class backgrounds-in the case of the Ollwood woman, an upper-class background. Not only are they highly intelligent, but they can move, with relative ease, from one socioeconomic environment to another. We don't really know where to look for them at any given time."

"Okay," Wee Willy said after considering that.

"Should we go on, sir?" Williamson asked.

"Please do," Davis said.

Special Agent Leibowitz got up from the table and took Williamson's place at the lectern.

The lights dimmed again and the slide projector began, with a thunk, to show a color slide of what Matt recognized as the Bennington College campus in the spring.

"We wondered why Ollwood and Fitzgerald went to Bennington, which is way to hell and gone from Pittsburgh in Vermont," Leibowitz began. "I mean, they both got the boot from the college, and there was still a local warrant outstanding against Ollwood for socking the campus cop, so why go back? Unless, of course, they had a good reason. We found it. There's a little white box around a blonde's face in the next couple of slides. Take a good look at her."

The slide machine thunked, and a black-and-white slide of a group of young women sitting on the wide steps of a large brick house appeared on the screen. There were circles around the faces of Misses Ollwood and Fitzgerald and a white box around the face of Susan Reynolds. And he recognized two other faces in the photo.

"I know a couple of other faces in that picture," Matt said. "Is that important?"

The slide was replaced by another snapshot.

"It could be," Davis said. "Who?"

Leibowitz, with some difficulty, managed to get the group shot back on the screen.

"The blonde, second from the left in the second row, is the former Daphne Elizabeth Browne," Matt said. "Now Mrs. Chadwick Thomas Nesbitt the Fourth."

"Interesting," Davis said. "The hostess of the party, right? We should have picked up on that."

"I don't think Daffy is the type to blow things up, and/ or help fugitives," Matt said.

"Take my word for it, Detective," Jernigan said. "Assuming that 'nice' people can't be involved in some pretty nasty business isn't smart."

"Which is rather what I had in mind when I mentioned to Detective Malone that 'nice' is something we should all keep in mind."

Matt didn't reply.

"You said you knew a couple of faces?" Davis went on.

"Sitting beside Daffy is a female named Penelope Alice Detweiler," Matt said, "who I know is not aiding and abetting our fugitives."

"How do you know that?" Jernigan challenged,

"She's dead," Matt said.

"Penny Detweiler died of a narcotics overdose," Chief Coughlin said.

"I see. Well, that would seem to buttress my observation about the meaning of the word 'nice,' wouldn't it?" Davis said.

The group shot disappeared from the screen and was replaced by a series of other snapshots of Bennington girls, each showing Susan Reynolds with a square box around her face and a circle around the face of either (or both) Eloise Anne Fitzgerald or Jennifer Ollwood-in some shots, of both.

"The blonde is Miss Susan Reynolds, of Camp Hill, Pennsylvania, white female now twenty-six years of age, five feet five, 130 pounds, blond hair, pale complexion, blue eyes, who has puncture wounds, entrance and exit, on her inside upper thigh caused by her having taken an arrow during archery practice at summer camp when she was sixteen. "

There were chuckles around the table.

Somebody-Matt could not tell for sure, but it sounded like Jack Matthews-asked incredulously, "Archery practice? Some girl didn't know the bow was loaded?"

There were more chuckles.

Another photo of Susan appeared, a more recent photograph. In it she was wearing a dress.

"This was taken three months or so ago, outside the Department of Social Services Building in Harrisburg, where Miss Reynolds is employed as an appeals officer," Leibowitz said. "She resides with her parents in Camp Hill and drives a red Porsche 911-which she obviously didn't buy with what they pay her at Social Services-and in which she frequently drove to her family's summer home in the Pocono Mountains on weekends."

"When this came to our attention," Leibowitz continued, "we sought and received assistance from the local authorities."

"What 'local authorities'?" Chief Coughlin asked.

"The county sheriff, Chief," Leibowitz said. "We gave him a camera with a tripod and a telephoto lens-"

"You gave him a camera?" Peter Wohl asked.

"I asked about that myself, Peter," Walter Davis said. "It was cost-effective, Agent Leibowitz told me. I suppose a good camera like that is worth five hundred dollars…"

"I think that particular camera outfit cost us $412.50," Leibowitz said.

"How do I get on your gift list?" Wohl asked.

"Anytime you're willing to place a premises such as the Reynolds summer home under at least part-time surveillance and save the FBI the man-hours of keeping it under surveillance ourselves."

"Clever," Wohl said appreciatively.

"And it has a certain public-relations aspect, too, Peter, " Davis said. "Getting a camera from the FBI makes the local authorities look on us as their friends. As hard as you may find this to believe, not all police officers look on us fondly."

"But on the other hand, Walter," Wohl said, "some of my officers like FBI agents so much that they take them on sight-seeing tours, absolutely free of charge."

"Actually, now that my temper has had time to cool down," Leibowitz said, "I have to admit that was sort of funny. But let me show you what our $412.50 bought."

A somewhat grainy photograph of a Ford sedan came on the screen.

"We ran the plate. The plate was stolen. There were no recent reports of a Ford like that having been stolen in a four-state area."

"They switched plates," Denny Coughlin thought out loud.

"We think that's probable. And there are just too many two-year-old Fords like that to make it cost-efficient to run every one of them down."

"Yeah," Wohl agreed.

"This is, in case anyone can't guess, the Reynolds summer house," Leibowitz said. "And this gentleman is Mr. Bryan C. Chenowith," he said, as a picture of a young man in sports clothing and wearing horn-rimmed glasses getting out of the Ford appeared on the screen.

"Bingo!" Chief Coughlin said.

"On this occasion," Leibowitz said, "Mr. Chenowith was accompanied by Miss Ollwood."

The screen now showed Jennifer Ollwood, wearing a tweed skirt and a sweater, standing on the porch of the Reynolds cabin. She was being embraced by Susan Reynolds.

Jesus Christ! Matt thought. There's no question about it now. Susan is in with these lunatics up to her cute little ass.

"Obviously," Chief Coughlin said, "you didn't get this in time to do anything about it, and the sheriff's deputy?"

"We asked the local authorities to locate and identify, not apprehend," Leibowitz said. "We want the Chenowith Group alive, taken into custody without the firing of a shot. The last thing we want to do is kill one of them and make a martyr out of him," Leibowitz said, "or, especially, one of the females."

"But aren't these photographs enough to pick up the Reynolds girl?" Denny Coughlin asked. "Charge her with aiding and abetting? Accessory after the fact? Lean on her hard?"

"After we get the Chenowith Group, Chief," Leibowitz said, "I'm sure the U.S. Attorney will go after her. But the priority is the apprehension of the Chenowith Group."

"I understand," Coughlin said.

"Once we had these pictures, and identified Chenowith and Ollwood, we put the premises under surveillance, of course," Leibowitz said. "And the to-be-expected result of that, of course, was that they never went back to the Poconos."

"They spotted the surveillance?" Peter Wohl asked,

"That's possible, of course," Leibowitz replied. "But we think it's equally possible that they simply suspected they had been using that rendezvous point too often. Whatever the reason, they never went back to the Reynolds summer house."

"What's the purpose of the rendezvous?" Matt asked.

"I was about to get to that," Leibowitz said. "First of all, we think it has to do with money. We believe that since we have been looking for them, the Chenowith Group has been involved in as many as four bank robberies. We have surveillance-camera proof that Chenowith and Ollwood have been involved in two bank robberies. A total of $140,000, in round figures, has been taken. One of them was a very recent case."

The lights went out and several surveillance-camera images of a female with a kerchief on her head wearing a raincoat and large dangling earrings appeared on the screen.

"That's Ollwood?" Detective Wee Willy Malone asked doubtfully.

Leibowitz chuckled. "That's Mr. Chenowith," he said.

"My God, the very ugly white woman with hairy legs," Wohl said, laughing. "The Girard Bank job in-where was it?"

"Bucks County. Riegelsville," Leibowitz furnished.

"I'm missing the point of the humor here," Chief Coughlin said.

"Mickey O'Hara wrote a hilarious story about it," Matt said. "The guy in the bank described the bandit as a very ugly white woman with hairy legs."

"That woman is Chenowith?" Coughlin asked.

"The lab did some interesting stuff, comparing the nose, hands, ears, and so on, of the 'woman' with Chenowith 's features. That's him, Chief."

The news did not seem to please Coughlin.

"So they're wanted on bank-robbery charges, too?" he asked.

"In a sense, Chief," Leibowitz said. "We have not charged any of them with bank robbery. We don't want them to know we know they're involved. Our thinking here-the thinking of the attorney general-is that once we apprehend them, we can quickly bring them to trial in Federal Court and get a conviction, using the surveillance-camera footage as proof. There is very little sympathy for bank robbers, and the evidence for the two bank jobs where we have surveillance-camera footage is not circumstantial. Their defense cannot bring up the morality of using animals in medical research, et cetera. And once they are convicted, then we can try them on the University of Pittsburgh bombing charges."

"Public relations, huh?" Coughlin said in disgust.

"Unfortunately, that has to be considered," Davis said.

"Now, our thinking is that they are thinking that since we are not searching for them on the bank-robbery charges we may not know about the bank robberies. Consequently, if we should get lucky and get them into custody, they don't want to be found in possession of a large sum of money that even the none-too-bright FBI might decide came from unsolved bank robberies."

"You mean you think Reynolds is holding the bank loot for them?" Matt asked.

"Yeah," Leibowitz said. "And dispensing it as needed to pay their expenses. Being a fugitive is expensive."

"I thought she might be getting money to them," Matt said. "Not the other way around."

"In a sense, she is, Payne," Davis said. "But I see what you mean."

"And even if you could get a search warrant," Wohl said, "the question would be where would you search?"

"Precisely, Inspector," Leibowitz said. "If we'd tumbled onto the Reynolds woman's connection to the Chenowith Group earlier, maybe we could have done something. And, of course, the minute we would serve a search warrant on her, that would be the end of any meetings with any of them."

"Yeah," Wohl said thoughtfully.

"So what we have to do is find out where the Reynolds woman is going to meet with the Chenowith Group, or Chenowith individually, in sufficient time to set up an arrest that can't possibly go sour. We don't, to repeat, want to have to shoot any of these individuals and turn them into martyrs."

"If we winged one of them in the arm," Jernigan said. "Their defense counsel would wheel them into the courtroom in a wheelchair, in a body cast, with intravenous tubes feeding him blood, an innocent college student showing his-even worse, her-grievous injuries suffered at the hands of the American Gestapo."

"That bad?" Coughlin asked.

"We think that's exactly what would happen. We want to take these people without giving them a bruise," Davis said. "So that, Payne, is where you come in. Get close to the Reynolds woman; make that happen."

"When I call 'the Reynolds woman,' " Matt said, "she's liable to tell me the same thing she told me when I tried to get her out of the Nesbitt party. 'I told you once, fuck off!' "

"Did she really say that?" Davis asked.

"What she said was, 'I'm sure you're a very nice fellow, but I'm just not interested.' "

"I still think it's worth a try," Davis said. "Two or three tries. She's our best shot at the Chenowith Group."

"Okay," Matt said. "I'll give it a shot."

"We don't expect her to lead you to the rendezvous, Payne," Leibowitz said. "We don't even expect you to find out where she's meeting these people. All we want from you is to call us-which means Special Agent Matthews-when you have reason to believe she is going to meet them. Just tell us where she is at that moment. We'll take it from there."

Matt's mouth ran away with him.

"Tail her, you mean? The way you tailed me? If she spots you as quickly as I did-and I suspect she'd be looking for a tail, and I wasn't-this is all going to be an exercise in futility."

Davis glowered at him. Wohl looked amused.

"We will have assets in place, Detective Payne," Leibowitz said, "that will permit us-providing you give us enough time to deploy those assets-to keep the Reynolds woman under surveillance without being detected."

"I hope so," Matt said.

"Matty," Chief Coughlin said. "I hope you heard what Mr. Davis and Leibowitz said about how they want to arrest these people?"

"Yes, sir."

"They don't want to run any risk of these people being injured, or their resisting arrest," Coughlin went on. "You understand that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Consider that an order from me," Coughlin said. "If you should run into this Chenowith fellow and the other man and the two women skipping down North Broad Street at high noon, all you are to do about it is tell the FBI. You take my meaning?"

"Yes, sir."

If I see any of these scumbags, Detective Payne thought, his mind full of the faces of the eleven innocent people who had been killed, and I think I can put the arm on one of them-or all of them-without getting myself hurt, I will, and no one will ever remember that I got that order.