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Doylestown cops are on one of my frequencies. We’d have to play that by ear.”
“I’m confused.”
“Presuming she will meet you in Doylestown, we won’t know if I can call the cops on the radio until we get there and I can try it. Let me put it this way. Best possible situation. I put handcuffs on her, throw her in the back of the car, and drive her to the Doylestown Police Station. They’ll hold her for me—I think—if I identify myself as a Philadelphia cop who has made an arrest in their jurisdiction. . . .”
Matt stopped, obviously having had another, distressing, thought.
“What?” Susan asked, picking up on this.
“If the Doylestown cops, or the state police, see you, they’ll wonder who you are. So we can’t let them see you. And . . .”
He stopped again, and then, after a long moment, shrugged.
“What’s that shrug of resignation all about?” Susan asked.
He met her eyes.
“My orders are quite clear,” he said. “I am not to do anything but inform the FBI when I think you are about to go meet any member of the Chenowith Group. I am not supposed to try to make the collar by myself. I’ve been told that by everybody but the mayor.”
“So you’ll be in trouble?”
He nodded.
“And you don’t want to do it, now that you’ve thought it over?”
“I didn’t say that,” he said. “What we’re doing now is talking. The money is another problem. My priority is to get you out of this mess. I’m trying to figure the best way to do that. And the thing we have to keep in mind is what Lincoln said.”
“What Lincoln said?”
“ ‘You can fool all of the people some of the time, and some of the people all of the time, but you can’t fool all of the people all of the time,’ ” Matt quoted. “We’ll be dealing here with some very bright people. We—”
“You’re talking about the cops?”
He nodded. “And the FBI. Most of what really will have happened is going to come out. Right now, they can’t prove—although I’m sure they suspect—that you’ve been holding the money for them. Maybe throwing the money in the river is the best thing to do with it. You would have to lie under oath—or at least claim the Fifth Amendment—that you never had it.”
“I’m not a very good liar.”
“You’re better than you think you are,” he said. “On the other hand, we could try this. . . .”
He stopped, and visibly considered what he was about to say until Susan’s curiosity got the best of her.
“What, Matt?”
“It’s closer to the truth. Hell, it is the truth. Our story is that I made you realize the error of your ways. I convinced you that holding the money for these people was the wrong thing to do, and that your only chance was to cooperate with the authorities—me—and you (a) turned the money you had been holding over to me, and (b) arranged for me to meet, and thus be able to arrest, Jennifer, in exchange for me offering you immunity from prosecution.”
“Can you do that?”
“I wish I could. No, I can’t. But cops have lied before, to get information they want, and if a lawyer can make the jury feel sorry for the accused, because she—you—were lied to, they might go a little easier on you. Maybe, knowing they were facing a damned good lawyer, the U.S. Attorney might decide to nol pros that one charge. It’s unlikely, but possible. He’s got other charges against you—meeting Chenowith in the Poconos, for one example—that he’s not going to have any trouble proving.”
“I am going to prison, aren’t I?”
“It looks that way,” Matt said almost idly. “But going with this repentant-sinner line, let me think out loud a little more. Are you sure you know where Chenowith is?”
“I know where they were living, if that’s what you mean.”
“You could lead someone there?”
“I’m not going to lead the FBI there, if that’s what you’re suggesting, not with Jennie and the baby in the house. He’s not just going to give up, and you told me he’s got a machine gun. I don’t want Jennie or the baby shot.”
