"That scumbag is none of the Anti-Crime Team, or Special Operations, or Highway's business," Chief Inspector Lowenstein said, coldly angry. "Rape is the Detective Bureau's business. It always has been."

"It still is, Matt," Czernick said, evenly, "except for what's going on in Northwest Philadelphia. That's now in Peter Wohl's lap because Jerry Carlucci says it is."

"He was at it again last night," Deputy Commissioner Cohan said. "He broke into the apartment of a woman named Mary Elizabeth Flannery, on Henry Avenue in Roxborough, tied her to her bed, cut her clothes off with a hunting knife, took of his clothes, committed an incomplete act of oral sodomy on her, and when that didn't get his rocks off, he pissed all over her. Then he tied her hands behind her back, loaded her in a van, and dumped her naked on Forbidden Drive in Fairmount Park."

"What do you mean, dumped her naked in the park?" Lowenstein asked.

"Just that, Matt. He carried her over there in a van, then pushed her out. Hands tied behind her back. Not a stitch on her."

"You catch somebody like that," Lowenstein said, "what you should do is cut the bastard's balls off and leave him to bleed to death."

"Let's just hope that Peter Wohl can catch him," Czernick said.

At five minutes after ten, Colonel J. Dunlop Mawson, of Mawson, Payne, Stockton, McAdoo amp; Lester, legal counsel to thePhiladelphia Bulletin, presented himself at the door of the Theodore Roosevelt Suite.

"Mr. Bolinski," Colonel Mawson said, as he enthusiastically pumped the Bull's hand, "I'm one of your greatest fans."

"And I of yours, Colonel," the Bull said. Before the sentence was completely out of the Bull's mouth, Mickey O'Hara realized that the Bull no longer sounded like your typical Polack Catholic product of West Philly. "I can only hope that the presence of the dean of the Philadelphia Criminal Bar does not carry with it any suggestion that larceny is at hand."

Colonel J. Dunlop Mawson beamed.

"Bull," he said, "-may I call you Bull?"

"Certainly," the Bull said. "I do hope we're going to be friends."

"Bull, the truth of the matter is that I pulled a little rank. I'm a senior partner in the firm, and I took advantage of that so that I would have a chance to meet you."

"I'm flattered," the Bull said, "and honored to meet you, Colonel."

"The honor is mine," Mawson said, "to meet the man who is arguably the best tackle football has ever known."

"This is my wife, Colonel," the Bull said, "and I believe you know Mr. O'Hara?"

"A privilege to meet you, ma'am," Mawson said.

"May we offer you some coffee, Colonel? Or perhaps something else?" Antoinette said.

"Coffee seems like a splendid idea," Colonel Mawson said. He nodded at Mickey, but said nothing and did not offer his hand.

This was followed by a ten-minute tour, conducted by Colonel J. Dunlop Mawson, down Football Memory Lane. Then came a detour, via Bull's mentioning that he represented Lenny Moskowitz, lasting another ten minutes, in which the intricacies of premarital agreements were discussed in terms Mickey couldn't understand at all.

Finally, the Bull said, "Colonel, I really hate to break this off, but Antoinette and I are on a tight schedule."

"Of course," Colonel J. Dunlop Mawson said, "forgive me."

He reached into his alligator attache case and came up with a manila folder, which he passed to the Bull.

"I think you'll find that brings us to a state of agreement," he said.

The Bull read the document very carefully, while Colonel J. Dunlop Mawson hung on every word of Mrs. Bolinski's tour guide of the better restaurants in the Miami/Palm Beach area.

"With one or two minor caveats," the Bull said, "this appears to be what I discussed with-what was his name?"

"Lemuelson," Colonel Mawson said, "Steve Lemuelson. What seems to trouble you, Bull?"

"I'd like to add a phrase here," the Bull said.

Colonel Mawson scurried to Bull's armchair and looked over his shoulder, then read aloud what the Bull had written in: "… it being understood between the parties that the annual increase will ordinarily be approximately ten per centum of both compensation and reimbursement of expenses, unless the annual rate of inflation has exceeded four per centum, in which case the annual increase in compensation will ordinarily be ten per centum plus seventy per centum of the rate of inflation, according to the latest then published figures by the U.S. Department of Commerce."

Colonel Mawson grunted.

"You see the problem, of course, Counselor," the Bull said.

"I think we can live with that, Bull," Colonel Mawson said.

Mickey didn't know what the fuck they were talking about.

"And then here in fourteen ї six," the Bull said, "I think a little specificity would be in order. You can see what I've penciled in."

And again Colonel Mawson read the modified clause aloud, "A Buick Super, Mercury Monterey, or equivalent automobile, including special radio apparatus, satisfactory to Mr. O'Hara, including installation, maintenance, and all related expenses thereto pertaining."

Colonel Mawson paused thoughtfully for a moment, then said, "Oh, I see. Well, that certainly seems reasonable enough."

"Good," the Bull said, "and last, I have added a final paragraph, thirty-six." He flipped through the document and then pointed it out to Mawson. This time he read it aloud: "The terms of this agreement shall be effective as of from 1 June 1973."

"But, Bull," the colonel protested, "he hasn't been working all that time."

"He would have been working, if you had then agreed to the terms agreed to here," the Bull said.

The colonel hesitated, then said, "Oh, hell, what the hell, Bull, why not?"

"I don't think Mr. O'Hara is being unreasonable," the Bull said.

"I'm sorry it got as far as withholding services," Colonel Mawson said.

"What I suggest we do now is have Mr. O'Hara sign, and initial all the modified sections," the Bull said. "And then when I get back to the office I'll have my girl run off a half dozen copies on the Xerox and pop them in the mail to you."

When Mickey O'Hara scrawled his initials in the margin besideSection W-Compensation, he saw that a line had been drawn through what had originally been typed, SEVEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS AND NO CENTS ($ 750.00), and that his corrected weekly compensation was to be ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS AND NO CENTS ($1,000.00),said sum to be paid weekly by check payable to Heidenheimer amp; Bolinski, P. C., who herewith assume responsibility for the payment of all applicable federal, state, and local income taxes and Social Security contributions.

When he came down from the Theodore Roosevelt Suite, there were two people behind the front desk of the Bellevue-Stratford, neither of them Miss Travis. He was torn between disappointment and relief that somebody had finally shown up to take her place.

He wondered how she would react if he just happened to come by the Bellevue-Stratford and say hello, and maybe ask her if she wanted to go get something to eat, or go to a movie, or something.

Then he realized that was foolish. She had given him the same smile she had given the blue-haired broad who had bitched about her room. Maybe the smile was a little more genuine, but even so that would be because he was at the Bellevue-Stratford to see the Bull, who was staying in one of the more expensive suites.

But maybe not. She had said she was a-what did she say?-an avid reader.

And then Mickey O'Hara pushed through the revolving door and onto South Broad Street, and there she was, coming up the street headed toward City Hall, carrying a paper sack in each arm. He saw paper towels in one of them.