Woodham, 33, of 300 East Mermaid Lane, Roxborough, had been discovered by State Police in a summer country cottage.
Miss Woodham was abducted from her apartment three days ago by a masked, knife-wielding man. A Bucks County mail carrier had described a man meeting Mr. Warren K. Fletcher’s description and driving a maroon Ford van, identical to the one in which Mrs. Schneider was abducted, as being at the cottage where her body was discovered. Police all over the Delaware Valley were looking for a similar van.
Payne, who had been assigned to work as liaison between ace Homicide detectives Jason Washington and Anthony Harris and the Special Operations Division, had gone with Washington to the torture-murder scene in Bucks County.
He spotted the van in the early hours of this morning as he drove to the Chestnut Hill residence of Inspector Wohl to make his report before going off duty.
“He carefully appraised the situation before acting, and decided Mrs. Schneider’s very life depended on his acting right then, and alone,” Mayor Carlucci said. “She rather clearly owes her life to him. I like to think that Officer Payne is typical of the intelligent, well-educated young officers with which Commissioner Czernich and I intend to staff the Special Operations Division.”
Payne, who is a bachelor, recently graduated from the University of Pennsylvania. He declined to answer questions from the press.
After that, Chief Coughlin was no longer quite so sure that Officer Payne would soon resign from the police department. And he didn’t.
“Captain,” Sergeant Payne said now, “those two can do anything they’re asked to do.” He looked at Lieutenant McGuire. “I’d really like to have them.”
“Wohl said ‘anything we think we need,’ ” McGuire said. “Let’s see if he meant it.”
He asked permission with his eyes to use Captain Quaire’s telephone. Quaire nodded. McGuire punched in numbers.
“Lieutenant McGuire for Inspector Wohl, please.”
Then he reached to Quaire’s phone and pushed the Speaker button.
Peter Wohl’s voice came somewhat metallically over the speaker:
“Hey, Gerry, what can I do for you?”
“Inspector, you said I could ask for anything for the Stan Colt job.”
“My toothbrush excepted, ask away.”
“Mutt and Jeff. They on something that won’t wait?”
“When and where do you want them, Gerry?”
“North Philadelphia Airport at three. Tell them to report to Sergeant Payne.”
“They’ll be there.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Any time.”
The line went dead.
“Why don’t you take Lassiter to Northeast Detectives now, and get that over with?” Quaire said.
“Yes, sir.”
“And then I’ll see you at the airport at three,” McGuire said.
“Yes, sir.”
Matt stood patiently by Olivia’s desk and waited until she finished talking on the telephone.
“I really appreciate that, Lieutenant,” she said. “We really want to get this guy.”
She put the handset in its cradle and looked up at Matt.
“Cincinnati Homicide,” she said. “Nice guy. Nothing that he can think of offhand, but he’s going to check around for me. What’s up?”
“Let’s go out to Northeast and get our statements out of the way,” Matt said.
She didn’t reply, but stood up, and took her purse from the desk drawer, and then waited for him to lead the way out of the office.
In the elevator, she asked, “What was going on in the captain’s office?”
“That was Lieutenant McGuire of Dignitary Protection,” Matt said. “He’s about to protect Stan Colt from his horde of fans.”
“And?”
“I’m going to help him,” Matt said.
“What’s that all about?”
The elevator door opened onto the lobby.
“I’ll tell you later,” he said, and held the keys to the Porsche out to her. “Follow me to my place, and I’ll dump the car there.”
It seemed for a moment as if she was going to object, but she finally took the keys without comment.
Matt drove the unmarked Crown Victoria into the basement garage first, pulled it into one of his slots, and got quickly out to show her where to park the Porsche.
When she opened the door, he was standing there. When she got to her feet, they were so close that he could feel her breath on his face.
He resisted the impulse to put his arms around her, but bent slightly, far enough down to kiss her.
“Oh, God!” she said. “I should have trusted my instincts.”
“About what?”
“About what you had in mind when you handed me the keys.”
“What I had in mind was getting the Porsche out of the Roundhouse lot before it got ticketed or boosted,” he said.
Her face told him she did not believe this at all.
“All the way here, I thought of reasons why I shouldn’t let you kiss me.”
“Which are?”
“I can’t remember,” she said, and they kissed again.
She looked into his eyes.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“Which question would get the desired response,” Matt said. “One, ‘Would you like to see my etchings?’ or two, ‘You want to come upstairs for a minute?’ ”
“You really have etchings?” she asked.
He nodded.
“If we go to your apartment, you know what will happen.”
“I hope I know what will happen.”
“I mean it will take longer than a minute.”
“The way I feel right now, I’m not sure it’ll take as long as a minute.”
“Oh, God!” Olivia said.
Olivia came out of Matt’s bathroom wearing his terry-cloth robe. He thought she looked adorable.
“Well, now we know, don’t we?” she asked.
“Know what?”
“That just beneath my nice girl surface there is a lewd, lascivious, and shameless slut.”
“Come on!”
She walked to the door and began picking her clothing up from the floor.
“I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said I never have behaved like this in my life.”
“Yeah, I would,” he said.
“I don’t believe you, but thank you anyway.”
Matt’s cellular buzzed.
“Don’t answer it!” Olivia ordered.
Matt picked it up.
“Payne,” he said, then, a moment later, “Hold one.”
He shoved the telephone under a pillow on the bed.
“I asked you not to answer that,” Olivia said.
