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"How are you, Jerry? What's up?"
"I got the captain's car. I was told to see if you showed up, and if not, to stand by the information booth and look for a bald fat man in a rumpled suit, named Supervisory Special Agent H.
Charles Larkin, and then drive him to the Schoolhouse. You're here. What do you think I should do?"
"I think maybe you should stick around in case the battery in Wohl's car goes dead or something."
"Sure."
"Why don't you call in and say I'm here?"
"Captain Pekach said this guy's a Secret Service big shot?"
"That's all I know about him too."
"I'm across the street, you want me to pull up behind your car?"
"No. This guy's in the Secret Service, not a movie star."
****
Matt was standing beside the information booth in the center of the main waiting room at 9:05, his eyes fixed on the wide stairway that led down to the tracks below.
At 9:06, a crowd of people began to come up the stairway. After a moment, he had trouble seeing through them, and started to walk to the head of the stairs, but changed his mind. He had been told to be at the information booth.
At 9:08, a voice behind him said, "Excuse me, sir, but is that a Brooks Brothers suit?"
Matt turned and saw a man whose hair was thin, but who could not be called bald, who was heavyset, but could not be called fat, and whose suit appeared comfortable, but was not rumpled. He was surrounded by half a dozen neatly dressed men, one of whom was Special Agent Matthews of the FBI, and all of whom seemed baffled by the behavior of the man they had come to 30^th Street Station to meet.
"Actually, it's from Tripler. Have I the privilege of addressing Mr. H. Charles Larkin?"
"Yes, you do," Larkin said, smiling conspiratorially at him.
"Welcome to Philadelphia, Mr. Larkin."
"Thank you very much. It's nice to be here."
Larkin turned to the men with him.
"I am going with this gentleman. I don't know where, but if you can't trust the Philadelphia Police Department, who can you trust?"
"Excuse me, sir?" one of the men standing behind him asked.
"Detective Payne, do you happen to know any of these gentlemen?"
"I have the privilege of Special Agent Matthews's acquaintance, sir. Good morning, Special Agent Matthews."
Jack Matthews looked embarrassed. Or annoyed. Or both. He nodded curtly at Matt but didn't say anything.
"How strange," Larkin said. "I was led to believe that the FBI and the Philadelphia Police Department were not on speaking terms."
"We talk to some of them, sir," Matt said.
"Well, shall we be on our way, Detective Payne?"
"The car is right outside, sir," Matt said, and pointed.
"I'll be in touch," Larkin said, and marched off toward the doors to the street. Matt walked quickly to catch up with him. Behind him, he heard one of the men left behind say, "JesusChrist!"
