“I don’t know what to think. That’s why I asked.”
“The last time somebody put his hands in my pants in a car was when I was in high school. I hit him with a flashlight and knocked out two of his teeth.”
“Is that a yes?”
“I came up here with you, didn’t I? And you know what happened.”
“In that case, we have just taken step one,” Matt said. “Which I think we should commemorate with a swallow of the bubbly, and, if you’re so inclined, with a friendly kiss.”
“A friendly kiss?”
“Boy Scout’s honor,” he said, and stepped close to her.
She looked into his eyes for a long moment, then kissed him, very chastely, on the lips.
That was and that wasn’t. It was closed-mouthed and gentle, but I felt it all the way down to my crotch.
If he kisses me again, or puts his hand inside the bathrobe, we’ll be back in the sack again.
Matt touched his glass to hers.
“Well, at least we have our priorities right. First the kiss, and then the champagne.”
“And now what?” Susan asked.
“We wait for dinner to be delivered,” he said. “And meanwhile, we try to start to find some kind of a solution to our dilemma.”
“And how do we do that?”
“You start by trusting me,” he said, looking into her eyes. “You really don’t have any choice, but I want you to really understand that.”
She averted her eyes by lowering them.
“Are you constantly in that state?” she blurted.
“I just kissed you,” he said. “And it happened.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that. Ah-ten-hut! And then, feeling noble as hell, I resisted the enormous urge to pick you up and carry you back to bed.”
“That wouldn’t be smart, would it?” Susan asked, raising her eyes from his erection to his eyes.
“Not right now, but you could easily talk me out of that position.”
“Maybe that’s all it is,” she said. “Unbridled lust. On both sides.”
“Maybe,” he said very seriously. “I think there’s more, but if that’s all there is, that’s enough.”
“I don’t really know what you mean by trust you,” she said.
“Well, that means I’m going to ask you questions, and you’re going to answer them. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. You’re not going to hold anything back. You’ve just changed sides, Susan. Chenowith and his friends are now the bad guys.”
“I’m not sure I can do that,” she said very softly.
“You don’t have any choice, honey. What I’m trying to do is find some way to keep you from going down the toilet with them.”
“What did you call me?”
“What?”
“You called me ‘honey.’ ”
“I guess I did,” Matt said. “Does that bother you?”
“No,” she said after a just-perceptible hesitation. “No, Matt, it doesn’t.”
“I would be amenable to reciprocation,” he said. “Does ‘precious beloved’ come easily to your lips?”
“No,” she said, smiling. “ ‘Precious beloved’? My God!”
“There are many other possibilities,” he said. “Think it over. Whatever makes you happy.”
“All I can think of is ‘honey,’ ” she said. “And that’s awkward.”
“Give it a shot.”
“Honey,” she said.
“Sounds great to me,” he said. “Let’s go with that for a while, until you think of something better.”
She sensed that he was about to kiss her again, and turned her back to him.
“Matt, I can’t betray them,” she said.
“What happened to ‘honey’?” he asked lightly, and then, his voice changing, added: “Get it through your head, honey, that they’re going to jail. If they’re lucky, the feds will let Pennsylvania try them. We don’t often send people to the chair.”
“ ‘We’ don’t?”
“We, the citizens of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania,” he said, rather unpleasantly. “Okay, first question. Did you have any prior knowledge that Chenowith was going to blow up the Biological Sciences building at the University of Pennsylvania?”
Susan shook her head and said, softly, “No.”
“No knowledge of any kind? He—and when I say ‘he,’ read Chenowith, the scumbag with the acne, and either of the women. Or any friends we don’t know about—never discussed this with you, even in idle conversation, with a couple of drinks in him? ‘What we should do is blow up the building’?”
“I told you no, Matt,” she said, then added, “God, you sound like a policeman.”
“I am a policeman,” he said. “I have to be absolutely sure of this, honey. Let me ask it in another way. When they blew up the Biological Sciences building, were you surprised, or did you sort of expect something like that to happen?”
“Matt, would you believe me if I said I’m sick about the Biological Sciences building? I was sick then, and I’m sick now.”
He looked at her carefully, and she realized he was making up his mind whether or not to believe her. And then she saw in his eyes that he did.
“That wasn’t the question, honey. The question was, did the bombing of the Biological Sciences building come to you as a surprise, or not?”
“I really didn’t even know Bryan Chenowith when that happened,” she said.
“Then how the hell did you get involved with these people? Has he got something on you?”
“Now he does,” she said.
“What?”
“I know what he did, and that the police are looking for him. Isn’t that what you said—I’m an accessory after the fact, for helping him?”
“What’s he got on you?”
“That I’ve been helping him.”
“Why have you been helping him?” Matt asked impatiently.
“Room service!” a cheery voice announced, and there was a knock on the door.
“Just a minute,” Matt called.
He gestured for her to give him the robe again. When she did, he saw that she was wearing underpants.
“What did I do? Shame you back into maidenly modesty?” he asked.
“Don’t you ever shut your mouth?” she snapped.
“Go hide in the bathroom like a good girl,” he said, stuffing his arms into the sleeves of the robe.
She went into the bathroom and closed the door, and listened while he dealt with the waiter, and to the sound of furniture moving, and metallic clanks she presumed were the plate and dish covers that come with room-service meals. But when the noise died down, he didn’t come to the bathroom door. She wondered if the waiter was still there, or if there was some other reason.
Curiosity finally got the best of her. She opened the bathroom door carefully and walked quickly to the door to the sitting room.
Matt was sitting at the table, wearing the terry-cloth robe, putting an oyster on a cracker.
“Pity you don’t like oysters. These are first-rate,” he said.
“I’ve been waiting for my robe,” she said indignantly, walking across the room to him, concealing as much of her breasts as she could with her arms.
“Our robe,” Matt corrected her. “And you were standing behind the door, right, so that you could put your hand—only—through the door and snatch it from my hand so that I wouldn’t get to see anything?”
“Give me the damned robe,” she said, tugging at the neck of it.
He got out of the chair, shrugged out of the robe, and held it out so that she could put her arms in the sleeves.
“I cannot tell a lie,” he said. “I’m glad I did that. You wearing nothing but your underpants and a look of high indignation is truly a sight to see.”
“What are you?” she said, furious with herself for blushing. “Some kind of a pervert?”
“No. I don’t think so. I’m in love. Or maybe lust. Or both. I think ‘all’s fair
in lust and war’ is also true.”
She shook her head and then, robe modestly belted, looked at him.
“That can’t possibly be true,” she said.
“What can’t?”
“Love.”
“Why not? You hear about it all the time. Love at first sight, and they lived happily thereafter.”
“That’s the . . . bullshit . . . you keep talking about. Things like that just don’t happen.”
“Well, I think it happened to me. With my luck, it probably won’t be reciprocal, but I’m willing to settle for half a loaf.”
She looked at him with a strange look on her face. “I’ll be damned if I don’t think you’re serious.”
“I have never been more serious in my life,” Matt said.
Susan suddenly had a very strong urge to cry.
“Can I have one of your oysters?” she asked, her voice sounding strange.
“I thought you didn’t like oysters?”
“I was being a bitch. You bring that out in me.”
He turned to the table and picked up an oyster in its shell and handed it to her.
She ate it from the shell.
“Very good,” she said.
“I told you. Shall I get you a dozen? I ate most of—”
“There won’t be time,” she said.
“Why not?”
“This one’s already working,” she said.
“Meaning what?” he said, and then took her meaning. “Oh, really?”
She raised her eyes to his and nodded solemnly. He unfastened the belt on the robe and she shrugged out of it.
“You want to go out there?” Matt asked. “Or should I try to roll that cart in here?”
“You weren’t thinking of food two minutes ago.”
“That was two minutes ago.”
“Since we have only one bathrobe between us, I don’t think I want to go out there. I’ve had enough new experiences for one night. Eating dinner in the nude will have to wait for another time.”
“In other words, roll in the tray?”
“I’m not all that hungry. Why don’t you just bring in one plate, and we’ll share it?”
“Okay. I’ll get a plate. I’m delighted you didn’t think of the other option: getting out of bed and getting dressed.”
“I wish that I could spend the rest of my life in this bed,” she said.
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, really.”
He got out of bed and went into the sitting room. And returned pushing the cart. Susan raised her eyebrows questioningly.
“I wanted to bring the champagne, too,” he said. “And there’s two oysters left. I didn’t want them to be wasted.”
She felt herself blush again.
“We can’t spend the rest of our life in this bed,” she said.
“Not this one. Maybe in another one,” he said.
He handed her a napkin, silverware, and a plate of roast beef. Then he poured champagne in a glass and got in bed with her, sitting cross-legged across from her.
“While you’re cutting me a piece of that,” he said, “and while I’m chewing it, tell me how in the hell you got involved with these people.”
Susan exhaled audibly, looked at Matt, then dropped her eyes to the slab of pink roast beef on the plate between her legs and started cutting it.
“Jennie—” she began.
“Jennifer Downs Ollwood,” Matt interrupted. “Five feet four inches, 130 pounds, brown eyes, black hair worn in bangs, got herself kicked out of Bennington for taking free speech a step too far by assaulting a campus police officer, then transferred to the University of Pittsburgh. What about her?”
“You seem to know everything about her.”
“Come on, honey. I’m just trying to save time. We still have to take you home to Mommy and Daddy sometime tonight.”
“Until you said that,” Susan said, “I completely forgot about having to go home. What time is it?”
He looked at his watch.
“Half past ten.”
“It seems like much later,” she said.
“Well, didn’t you notice? A lot’s happened tonight.”
“We’re going to have to go soon.”
“Not until we’re finished,” he said, and then smiled. “I already have a reputation for keeping the Reynolds family virgin out all night. Mommy would probably be surprised, even disappointed, if I brought you home early.”
“I guess that means I don’t get arrested tonight, if you’re going to take me home,” Susan said, making what she instantly realized was a bad little joke.
“Not by me. Not ever by me,” Matt said seriously. “But I can’t speak for the rest of the law-enforcement community.”
“Matt, I’m scared.”
“Well, you should be. What about the Ollwood woman? Did she meet Chenowith at the University of Pittsburgh? Or were they already planning armed revolution and rebellion at Bennington?”
“I don’t know where she met him,” Susan said. “But you have to understand about Jennie, Matt.”
“What do I have to understand?”
“She is no more capable of blowing up a building than I am.”
“The fact is that she did. There’s no question about that, honey.”
“You have to understand her.”
“Understand what, Susan?”
“Her family is a disaster,” Susan said. “Her mother’s a drunk, on her fourth husband. Her father doesn’t give a damn about her. She’s all alone, Matt, and always has been. Until, of course, Bryan came along. Whatever she did was because of Bryan.”
“That’s bullshit, honey,” Matt said gently. “She might have been strongly attracted to this character, that’s understandable. But once she found out that he was seriously considering doing something like blowing up a building—there’s a hell of a difference between hitting a campus cop with your ‘Fair Play For Animals!’ sign and robbing a National Guard armory to get explosives and weapons—”
“You know about that?” Susan interrupted.
“We even know the serial numbers of the carbines they stole. And that your friend Chenowith—”
“He’s not my friend, Matt!”
“—has chopped down one of them into a movie-style terrorist’s machine pistol to use when he robs banks.”
“Well, that answered another question I had. You know about the banks.”
“Yeah, we know about the banks. And it’s only a question of time before Robin Hood decides he has to use that machine pistol, and other innocent people get killed.”
She met his eyes and then looked away.
“You want to hear about Jennie?” she asked softly.
“Yeah,” Matt said. “I do. I left off saying that she had a choice to make when she understood that he was about to do some very terrible things, and she made the wrong one. I can’t work up much sympathy for your friend, honey, drunken mother on her fourth husband or not.”
“You said, in the car, that you were . . . ‘sucked into’ your relationship with Penny Detweiler. That she was really fucked up, and really needed you.”
“I wondered why you picked up on that,” Matt said. “That’s how it is with you and the Ollwood woman?”
Susan nodded.
“After—what happened at the Univer—”
“Let’s knock off the euphemisms,” Matt said. “What happened was that your friend actively assisted Chenowith in the placement and detonation of an explosive device in a building on a college campus, and caused the deaths of eleven innocent people.”
“All right,” Susan said, her voice choked. Tears formed in her eyes and ran down her cheeks.
“Say it, honey,” Matt said gently but insistently.
She sighed.
“After Bryan . . . blew up the building, and the police started looking for him, Jennie called me. She was hysterical. Desperate. I felt so sorry for her. And she said she absolutely had to have some money . . .”
“And you gave it to her,” Matt finished. “And as you were aware she was involved in blowing up the science building, that made you an accessory after the fact.”
“I didn’t think about that,” Susan said, and looked at him through tear-filled eyes. “My friend was all fucked up, Matt. She had nobody else to turn to. I had to help.”
“Where did you get the money?” he asked, ignoring her.
“It was mine,” she said.
“Where did you get it? Specifically, did you take it out of the bank? Is there a record of you making a substantial”—Of course there isn’t. If there was, the FBI would have known about it, and told me—“withdrawal—”
“No,” Susan said. “I had it. I had a quarterly dividend check from Chrysler that day, and I had just cashed it—I was going shopping—and I gave her the money.”
“No, you didn’t,” Matt said.
“What?”
“You will swear on a stack of Bibles that you didn’t give her any money. I don’t think the FBI knows about that, and we don’t want them to know. You cashed the check to go shopping, didn’t buy anything, and just kept the money around and pissed it away on routine expenses. How much was it?”
“Three thousand and change,” Susan said, very softly. “Matt, I’m not a very good liar.”
“Well, you fooled me, honey. You told me you were just not interested, and I believed you.”
“Oh, Matt!”
“I’m serious. You’re a good liar, which is a good thing.”
“Matt, there is something about money. . . .”
“What?”
“I’m holding some money for Bryan.”
“From the bank jobs?”
She nodded.
“Jesus Christ, why?”
“Because he asked me to. Or he got Jennie to ask me to. Same thing.”
“Did he tell you why?”
“Against the possibility of his being arrested—”
“The inevitability,” Matt interrupted.
“—to hire a good lawyer.”
“Shit,” Matt said. “He’s stupid. For one thing—let me explain how this will work—for one thing, the FBI knows all about the bank robberies. He did another one a couple of days ago, in Clinton, New Jersey. Dressed up like a woman, by the way.”
“Jennie called me—my God, that’s only this morning—and asked me to come visit her and the baby.”
Investigators Page 33
