Denny Coughlin had called her back within the hour to tell her she could put her mind at rest about Miss Peebles. He'd called the Fourteenth District commander, as she'd asked him to do, and Captain Jessup had told him he was a little late. It seems Miss Peebles's lawyer, Brewster Payne, had talked with his partner, Colonel Mawson, who'd telephoned Police Commissioner Czernich about Miss Peebles's problem.

The commissioner had called Jessup and told him not to worry about Miss Peebles anymore. He had given the problem to Special Operations, and Highway Patrol would now be rolling by 606 Glengarry on a regular-at least hourly-basis. Special Operations had been told the commissioner didn't want to hear of any more problems at 606 Glengarry Lane.

The next morning, just after Judge Solomon had walked into her chambers at nine, Martha Peebles had called.

"Eileen, it happened."

"What happened?"

"My knight in shining armor. He finally came."

"Martha, are you all right?"

"His name is David Pekach, and he's the captain commanding Highway Patrol. And we did it, Eileen!"

Martha reported that Captain Pekach had called to inform her that her property would now be patrolled by Highway Patrol on a regular, frequent basis, and that she could put her mind at rest.

"My God, Eileen. He's so much like Daddy. All man. You just feel safe when you're with him."

"What do you mean you did it, Martha?"

"You know what I mean," Martha said, not even very shyly.

"You're not telling me this cop just walked in the door, and you took him to bed?"

"No, of course not. Not then. What happened was that he said he would swing by at midnight himself, and I said I never went to bed that early, and if he had the time-didn't have to get home to his wife-why didn't he stop in and I'd give him a cup of coffee. And he said he wasn't married, and thank you, he'd like a cup of coffee. And he came back at midnight, and that's when we did it."

"I think you're out of your mind."

"I know. I'm out of my mind with love. His first name is David. And I thought it was going to hurt the first time, and it didn't. God, Eileen, it was wonderful!"

"Denny, tell me about Captain David Pekach of Highway Patrol," was the call that came next.

"What would you like to know, Eileen? And why?"

"The why's my business. Tell me about him."

"What about him? He's a good cop."

"Is he married?"

"No. He's never been married. Before he made captain, and they gave him Highway Patrol, he was a lieutenant in Narcotics. He grew a pigtail, and the dealers thought he was one of them. He's got one hell of an arrest record."

"That's all?"

"When he was a rookie detective in Homicide, just a kid, when the rest of the department didn't think the sainted Fort Festung could possibly do anything like hurt his girlfriend, Dave Pekach finally got a judge to give him a search warrant-"

"I know who he is," Eileen interrupted, remembering him from the trial.

"Like I said, Eileen, he's a very good cop."

"Tell me about him and women. I understand he's quite a swordsman."

"Who told you that?" Coughlin asked. "Eileen, you've seen him. He's a little guy. Looks like a weasel. Women do the opposite of swoon when they see him. I've never even seen him with a woman. What's this all about?"

"Thanks, Denny."

Brewster Courtland Payne, Esq., gave Miss Martha Peebles in marriage to Captain David Pekach three weeks later. The Hon. Eileen McNamara Solomon was the matron of honor.

"Eileen, I realize this is short notice, but I'd really like you and Ben to come for supper tonight," Martha Peebles Pekach said now.

"What's up?"

"Brewster Payne's son-Matt?-just made sergeant, and Precious and I are having a little party for him."

"That kid made sergeant?" Eileen asked, surprised. Very privately, she thought of Detective Matt Payne as the Wyatt Earp-or maybe the Stan Colt-of the Main Line. Most cops never draw their weapons in twenty years of service. Brewster Payne's kid had already shot two critters and been involved in an O.K. Corral shoot-out in Bucks County and he hadn't been on the job much over five years.

And now he's a sergeant?

"He was number one on The List. The mayor promoted him this morning."

"I'll have to check with Ben," Eileen said.

"With or without him, Eileen, please? Sixish."

[THREE] Lieutenant Jason Washington, who was sitting in his glass-walled office, his feet resting on the open lower drawer of his desk, deep in thought, became aware that Detective Kenneth J. Summers, a portly forty-year-old, who was on the desk, was waving at him.

He raised his eyebrows to suggest that Summers now had his attention. Summers pointed to the telephone. Washington nodded and reached for it.

"Homicide, Lieutenant Washington."

"Dave Pekach, Jason."

"Dare I to hope that you are calling to tell me two critters have flagged down a Highway car and, overwhelmed by remorse, are asking how they can go about confessing to the Roy Rogers job?"

"You don't have them yet?" Pekach asked, surprised.

"You know where we are, David?" Washington said. "In the absence of a better idea, I have four people running down a somewhat esoteric idea proposed by the newest member of our happy little family."

"Matt?"

"Indeed.Sergeant Matthew Payne. He wondered-causing Tony Harris some chagrins-and between thee and me, me too-for not having had the same thought first-why Doer Number One took the trouble to put his weapon under Kenny Charlton's bulletproof vest instead of simply shooting him in the head."

"Yeah. I wonder why."

"There may be no reason, but for the moment, we are considering the possibility that he knew Kenny, felt some personal animosity toward him, and wanted to make sure the wound was fatal."

"That's possible. That sounds like a deliberate act, not like something that just happened."

"So we are now compiling a photo album of every young African-American critter Kenny ever arrested. And since Kenny spent many years on the street, there is a large number of such critters."

"It may work, Jason," Pekach said, thoughtfully.

"And I have Tony starting all over again from Step One," Washington said.

"Actually, I was calling about Matt," Pekach said. "My Martha wants to wash down his sergeant's badge…"

"Somehow I don't think Your Martha used that phrase."

"She's having a few people in, is the way she put it. You and Your Martha, of course, and Tony. And My Martha asked me to ask you if it would be a good idea to ask the other guys in Homicide."

"What and where are the festivities?"

"Tonight, here. Six, six-thirty. If it stays nice, outside. Like the last one. Which, come to think of it, Lieutenant, was to wash down your new badge."

"I was about to say, David, that tonight is not the best of times. But then I remembered the profound philosophical observation that all work, et cetera, et cetera. Tony will be there, I'll see to that, and so will My Martha and I. And I will put a card on the bulletin board advising everyone that edibles and intoxicants will be available at 606 Glengarry Lane for anyone interested in celebrating Sergeant Payne's promotion."

"You think anyone will come?"

"Edibles and intoxicants may entice one or two. And simple curiosity about Castle Pekach will entice some of the others. I don't want to make it a command performance. Is Henry going to grace the premises?"

Captain Henry C. Quaire was commanding officer of the Homicide unit.

"My Martha called Whatshername."

"Gladys," Washington furnished.

"Gladys and Henry will be there," Pekach said.

"Why am I not surprised?" Washington said.

Gladys Quaire regarded an invitation to 606 Glengarry Lane as the Philadelphia equivalent of an invitation to watch the races at Ascot from the Royal Enclosure.