yourself? — were simply an attempt by them to get back at you for arresting them.'
'That's what it is, Mr. Giacomo.'
'Even though the police have in their possession the gold Rolex one of your crooked pals stole from Baby Brownlee.'
'Excuse me?'
'Let me talk,' Giacomo said reasonably. 'Please don't interrupt my chain of thought.'
'Yes, sir. Sorry.'
'I could probably even manage to convince a jury-especially after we marched all your character witnesses to the stand-your parish priest would stand up for you, wouldn't he, Officer Prasko?'
'Absolutely. I'm sure Father-'
Giacomo held up his hand to silence him.
'I could probably convince a jury that Mr. Ketcham was doing the same thing the drug dealers were doing. I mean, after all, what's the difference between them except the color of their skin, right?'
'Ketcham is the man they say I stole money from?'
'Yes, he is. They say you stole twenty thousand dollars from him. So does he. He also says you handcuffed him to the toilet in his motel room and then raped his girlfriend. '
'That's absolute bullshit!'
'Well, you don't have to worry about that. I'm sure I could convince a jury that an outstanding police officer such as yourself isn't capable of committing the crimes the police say you did.'
'That's a weight off my shoulders to hear you say that, Mr. Giacomo.'
'What you have to worry about, you despicable asshole, is what Vincenzo Savarese is going to do to you.'
'Huh?'
'The girl you made suck your cock, you contemptible pervert, is Vincenzo Savarese's granddaughter. The only reason you're alive at this moment is that the cops got lucky and got to you before Savarese did.'
'I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Giacomo. '
'You stupid piece of shit!' Giacomo, his face red with fury and disgust, shouted. 'You're not even smart enough to know when to stop lying, are you?'
Armando C. Giacomo stormed out of the interview room, slamming the door behind him.
He walked directly to the Coke machine against the wall and fed it some money.
Coughlin walked over to him.
'That was quick,' Coughlin said.
'I'm very good, Denny. You know that. I presume you have a stenographer on call?'
'Over there, reading the Daily News,' Coughlin said, nodding toward a middle-aged Latin woman sitting in a chair.
'I'm going to give that piece of slime a couple of minutes to ruminate on what his alternatives are, and then I will go in and offer him your deal. I would be very surprised if he declined it.'
'Thank you, Manny.'
'Between you, me, and the Coke machine, Denny, it posed a problem of personal morality for me.'
'How's that?'
'My personal inclination was to get him off-and I really think I could have-and then let Vincenzo… what would almost certainly have transpired, transpire. Six years in a federal country club doesn't strike me as a fair payback for what he did to that girl. I know her.'
'Do me one more favor, Manny. Reason with… the grandfather. Convince him that this is the way, that this is enough.'
'I'll try,' Giacomo said. 'But don't, as they say, hold your breath.'
Susan Reynolds and Matt Payne had a very late lunch in Trainer's Restaurant outside Allentown.
Neither of them had had any appetite in the Penn-Harris, and they had ridden most of the way down U.S. 222 to Allentown in silence. In his mind, Matt was going over all of the things that could go wrong with the scheme, all the things that had to be done, and trying very hard to ignore a feeling of impending doom. He wondered, idly, once or twice, what Susan was thinking about, but didn't ask.
By the time they got to Allentown, however, they were both hungry, and Susan directed them to Trainer's, which she said was on the way to Doylestown.
'What are we going to do now?' Susan asked when they had finished their coffee and were waiting for the check.
'First thing, you're going to show me where your friend Chenowith lives,' Matt said.
He knew that she wasn't going to like this announcement at all, and waited for what he was sure would be an angry reaction. He didn't get it.
'He's not my friend, Matt. I've told you that and told you that.'
'I still want to see where he lives.'
'Why?'
'So, when this is over, I can take the cops there,' Matt said. 'You may be in jail.'
The waitress appeared with the check in time to hear the last part of the sentence.
Matt smiled at her in what he hoped was a disarming way.
'Or married, or have entered a convent,' he added.
The waitress smiled. Susan shook her head at Matt.
When they got back in the car, Matt asked, 'How do I get to Chenowith's house?' again expecting a negative response, and being surprised when he didn't get one.
'Go into Doylestown, turn right at the Crossroads Diner,' Susan said.
'Is that where you're going to meet her?'
'That's where I met her the last time,' Susan said. 'She may change her mind this time.'
'But she is going to call you there, right?'
'Yes.'
'I'm going to cut over through Quakertown and go down Route 611,' he said.
'Any special reason?'
'No.'
'I'm a little afraid of showing you the house,' Susan said a minute or two later.
'Don't start now,' Matt said. 'I want to be in a position where I can truthfully tell the FBI that you led me to the place.'
'What if she leaves the baby in the house when she comes to meet me?' Susan asked.
'The FBI is not going to go after him with guns blazing if they know there's a baby around,' Matt said.
'He's crazy, Matt, you know that. What's the FBI going to do if he starts shooting his machine gun?'
'The way that happens is that they will surround the place. Then somebody will get on a bullhorn and tell him-hell, you've seen the movies-'This is the FBI. We have you surrounded. Come out with your hands on your head, and no harm will come to you.' '
'And what if he starts shooting his machine gun? The both of them start to shoot their machine guns?'
'They'll look out the window and they won't see anything to shoot at. The FBI's not going to stand there in the open where they can get shot. They're not stupid.'
'And if Bryan doesn't come out with his hands on his head?'
'Probably nothing. They don't want to start shooting unless they have to. With or without knowing there's a baby inside. After a long time-a long, long time-they might shoot some tear gas into the place. But that's it. Once they have the place surrounded, that's it. They can wait; time is on their side.'
She didn't reply.
'And with that thought in mind, probably the smartest thing we could do right now would be to call Jack Matthews, have him meet us, you show him where Chenowith is, and let the FBI do their thing.'
'If I show you where the house is, you'll have to promise you won't tell the FBI until after we meet with Jennie. '
'Jesus!'
'Promise!'
