dress, or, Jesus, she doesn't care.
'That should be an interesting assignment,' Lorraine said.
'We're on the job now, Lorraine,' Charley McFadden said. 'We was just talking about that.'
'You're working plainclothes?' she asked. Matt sensed the question was directed to him, but Charley answered it.
'We're looking for a fag burglar,' Charley replied. 'Been hitting some rich woman in Chestnut Hill.'
'Well, if you're going to work the fag joints,' Lorraine said, again directly to Matt, 'you better keep your hand you-know-where, and I don't mean on your gun. They're going to love you!'
'What we was talking about,' Charley McFadden said, 'is maybe splitting up. Hay-zus taking the unmarked car-he don't drink, and it's better that way-and you and me go together.'
'Whatever you say, Charley,' Matt said.
'You got your car? Mine's a dog.'
'I came in a cab,' Matt said.
'Oh,' Charley said.
Matt saw the look of disappointment on McFadden's face.
'But I don't live far; getting it wouldn't be any trouble.'
McFadden's disappointment diminished.
'What I was thinking was that in a car like yours, we could cruise better,' McFadden said.
'I understand,' Matt said. 'You mean it's the sort of car a fag would drive?'
'I didn't say that,' McFadden said, embarrassed. 'But, no offense, yeah.'
'What kind of car do you have?' Lorraine asked.
'A Porsche 911T,' Charley answered for him.
'Oh, they're darling!' Lorraine said, clutching Charley's arm high up under the armpit, which also caused her breast to press against his arm again.
Which caused a physical reaction in Matt Payne that he would rather not have had under the circumstances, at this particular point in space and time.
'Where do you live, Payne?' Jesus Martinez asked.
'On Rittenhouse Square,' Matt said.
'Figures,' Martinez said. 'Let's get the hell out of here, somebody's liable to spot that car in the parking lot and start asking questions.'
'To which we answer, we were picking up Payne, and you were drinking water,' McFadden replied, but Matt saw that he picked up his fresh Ortleib's and drank half of it.
'Hay-zus is a worrier,' Charley said to Matt.
'You better be glad I am,' Martinez replied.
Lorraine Witzell pushed between Charley and Matt to sit her glass on the bar, which served to place her rear end against Matt's groin and the physiological phenomenon he would have rather not had manifesting itself at that moment. It didn't seem to bother Lorraine Witzell at all; quite the contrary. She seemed to be backing harder against it.
Matt took a pull at his bottle of Ortleib's.
'I'm ready,' he said, signifying his willingness to leave. 'Anytime.'
Lorraine Witzell chuckled deep in her throat.
'Well,' she said, 'if it turns out to be a dull night, come on back. I'll probably be here.'
FIFTEEN
At quarter to one, Officer Charley McFadden pulled Matt Payne's Porsche 911T to the curb before a row house on Fitzgerald Street, not far from Methodist Hospital, in South Philadelphia.
'It happens that way sometimes,' Charley said to Matt. 'Sometimes you can go out and find who you're looking for easy as hell. And other times, it's like this. We'll catch the bastard. Hay-zus will turn up something.'
'Yeah,' Matt said.
'And you got the fag tour, right?' Charley said. 'So it wasn't a complete waste of time, right?'
'It was… educational,' Matt said, just a little thickly.
'And we wasn't in all of them,' McFadden laughed. 'Maybe half.'
'There seem to be more of those places than I would have thought possible,' Matt said, pronouncing each syllable carefully.
'You all right to drive?'
'Fine,' Matt said.
'You're welcome to sleep on the couch here,' Charley offered.
'I'm all right,' Matt insisted.
'Well, drive careful, huh? You don't want to fuck up a car like this.'
'I'll be careful,' Matt said, and got out of the car and walked around the back.
'We'll get the bastard,' Charley McFadden repeated. 'And what the hell, we were on overtime, right?'
'Right,' Matt said. 'Good night, Charley. See you in the morning.'
He started the engine, returned to South Broad Street, and pointed the nose toward Willy Penn, surveying the city from atop City Hall.
Matt had asked Charley McFadden about 'that woman you introduced me to in the FOP' five minutes after they had picked up the Porsche, and were headed into West Philadelphia.
'She works for the district attorney,' Charley said. 'They call her the shark.'
'Why?'
'Well, she likes cops,' Charley said. 'Young cops in particular. What did she do, grab your joint?'
'No. Nothing like that,' Matt said. 'I was just curious, that's all.'
'I'm surprised,' Charley said. 'She looked pretty interested, to me.'
'She seemed to know a good deal about the police, about police work.'
'As much as any cop,' Charley had said.
Matt reached City Hall, and drove around it, and up North Broad to Spring Garden and into the FOP parking lot.
The place was still crowded. He made his way to the bar and ordered a scotch and soda. He had a good deal to drink, some of the drinks paid for by either the proprietors of the bars they visited, or put in front of him by the bartender, who had then said, 'The tall fellow at the end of the bar,' or something like that.
He saw Lorraine Witzell at the far end of the bar, with three men standing around her.
Well, it was dumb coming here in the first place.
And then fingers grazed his neck.
'I was beginning to think you'd found something more interesting to do,' Lorraine Witzell said, as she slid onto the bar stool behind, which action caused first one of her knees and then the other to graze his crotch.
'May I buy you a drink?' Matt said, very carefully.
Lorraine Witzell looked at him and smiled.
'You can, but what I think would make a lot more sense, baby, would be for Lorraine to take you home and get some coffee into you. You can take me for a ride in your Porsche some other time. It'll be safe in the parking lot here.'
'I'm all right to drive,' Matt insisted, somewhat indignantly, as Lorraine led him across the FOP bar and up the stairs to the street.
Peter Wohl walked to his car, and stood outside the door until he saw Dr. Amelia Payne's Buick station wagon come out of the alley beside the Delaware Valley Cancer Society Building and drive past him.
He raised his hand in a wave, but Dr. Payne either did not see it, or ignored it. He shrugged and got in the
