The investigators

"Make it half an hour," Veronica replied. "Fifteen minutes isn't really long enough for an early-morning quickie, is it?"

"Is that all you ever have on your mind?"

"Yeah," Veronica said, after appearing to have given the question serious thought. "What's more important?"

"I can think of some things."

"Some things that are as much fun?"

"Yeah," Susan said, after appearing to give Veronica's question as much serious thought as Veronica had given hers.

"Have fun," Veronica said. "Keeping one eye on the clock, of course."

Susan rode the elevator to the lobby and left the Department of Social Services Building. She walked to a car wash three blocks away. That morning, on her way to work, knowing Je

While it had been going through-she hadn't liked to think what the brushes and felt washing pads were going to do to the Porsche's paint job, but doing this seemed necessary-she had walked to the corner, where there was a pay telephone booth, and written down-and later memorized-the number.

She entered the phone booth, took the handset off its hook, held the hook down with her finger, and pretended to be having a conversation until the phone rang.

"Hi," Je

"Hi, yourself. How are you?"

"Well, you know. Fine. Why shouldn't I be?"

Being a fugitive from justice, wanted for murder, and that son of a bitch you're living with comes immediately to mind.

"And the baby?"

"He's just wonderful!"

And what's going to happen to him when Mommy and Daddy are hauled away in handcuffs?

"Je

"Why don't you come see the baby?" Je

"First of all, I don't think-I was just there-that's such a smart idea. As much as I'd like to, Je

"Bryan has something he wants you to keep for us," Je

What? Another bag full of money he stole from a bank?

"Really?"

"Like the last package, only a little bigger," Je

My God, don't tell me he actually did rob another bank! I'll have to get a larger safe-deposit box. The one I have is nearly full of money he stole.

"Je

"Bryan wants you to," Je

If he's arrested-when he's arrested-he doesn't want to be found in possession of money the cops will suspect came from one or more so far unsolved-or is the word "successful"?-bank robberies. He wants the money to pay for his defense.

I sometimes think that Bryan really would like to be caught, and put on trial. He thinks that with a good lawyer-and himself skillfully playing the role of noble young intellectual courageously standing up for moral principle-he will not only walk out of the courtroom a free man, but into a role as Hero of the New Order.

And, of course, Je

"Je

"What reasons?" Je

"Good and sufficient reasons, Je

"You better tell that to Bryan yourself," Je

"I don't want to tell him-"

"Just a minute, Susie," Je

The son of a bitch is there. Probably sitting in his car. Let Je

What I should do is just hang up. But if I do that, he'll make her call the office, or the house. What the hell am I afraid of? If he comes on the phone, I'll tell him why I don't want to go get his "package" for him.

Bryan's voice came over the line. "Hey, Susie, what's going on?"

"I told Je

"So she said. What are the reasons?"

"One of them is that the last time I spoke to you on this subject, you told me that was the last time."

"You know we need money," he said, "and this was too good to pass up."

"You don't need the money. You have enough now."

"Good lawyers are very expensive, Susie," Bryan said reasonably.

"You've got more than enough for a good lawyer," Susan said. "I can't get away so soon again without having people ask questions."

"Think of something. You're an intelligent girl. And we're in this together, Susie."

What is that, a not so lightly veiled threat?

"I'm not going to debate this with you," Susan replied. "There are reasons I can't make a trip there anytime soon."

"I'm waiting to hear them."

"Well, for one thing, I've got a cop on my back."

That comment obviously set him back. There was a perceptible pause before he replied:

"Don't you think you should tell me about that, Susie? What makes you think the cops are onto you? Why should they be? Are you suffering from paranoia?"

"I didn't say 'cops,' I said 'cop,' singular."

"Where did he come from?" Bryan asked, and Susan detected concern in his voice.

As hard as the macho son of a bitch is trying to hide it.

"Philadelphia," she said.

"A Philadelphia cop in Harrisburg?" Bryan asked doubtfully, and then went on patronizingly: "Susie, Philadelphia cops have no authority outside Philadelphia."

"Is that so?"

"Yes, that's so. You're sure he's a cop, and not FBI? How did he get onto you, anyway?"

"He's a Philadelphia cop. Actually, a detective. I met him at Chad Nesbitt's birthday party."

"What was a cop doing at Mr. Ca

"He's Mr. Ca

"And he's a cop?" Bryan asked dubiously again.

"Detective."

"Susie, this sounds unreal."

"It feels unreal. But there it is. Every time I look in the mirror, there he is, on my back, making sophomoric jokes."

"He came on to you?"

"He came on to me, and I put him down, and then-to hell with it. It's a long story. The last chapter is that the Philadelphia police sent him here on some kind of an investigation-"

"So he says," Bryan interrupted. "That could be a story. I suppose it did occur to you that he may not be what he says he is?"

"Now who's sounding paranoid? I have good reason to believe he's here for the reason he gives."

"We can't be too careful," Bryan said seriously. "The FBI is not always as stupid as generally believed."

"Anyway, he called the house and my mother invited him for di

"How hard did you try?"

"Go to hell, Bryan," Susan said. And then, before he could reply, Susan went on, "I've got to get off the phone. All you have to understand is that with the cop on my back, I can't go anywhere near you."

"Susie, let's think about-" Bryan responded.

Susan hung up on him.