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“Martha Washington?” Sergeant Kenny asked, smiling. Matt smiled.

“He’s in the shower, Matt. And you, I understand, are in the Deep South?”

“About as deep as you can get,” Matt said. “Stand

ing here with a sergeant who looks like your husband’s twin brother. I really have to talk to him. When should I call back?”

“I’ll just hand him the cellular,” she said. “Hold on.”

“I’m already annoyed with you for not having checked in earlier,” Washington’s voice came over the line. “And I dislike being interrupted when I am in the midst of my ablutions. That said, you may proceed.”

“This is our doer, Jason.”

“You will forgive me for asking, Matthew, but do you believe this because of something more than your intuition? ”

“Sergeant Kenny showed me the knife he had. It’s a twin of the one in the pictures. He had a digital camera-a new one-and a package of plastic ties. He was trying to pry open a window in a young woman’s apartment when the Citizens’ Watch guy caught him.”

“Who is he?”

“His name is Homer C. Daniels. White male, six feet one inch, two hundred pounds, mid-thirties. He’s a dealer in exotic cars, from Las Vegas, and he drives all over the country doing business.”

“On what charges are they-presumably the Daphne police-holding him?”

“Peeping, a misdemeanor, and leaving the scene of an accident, which is a little heavier.”

“Is there a chance, however slight, that he might be allowed to post bail?”

“Not tonight.”

There was a thirty-second pause.

“I will be calling you back shortly, Matthew. May I presume your cell phone battery is fully charged?”

“You may so presume.”

“Splendid,” Washington said, and the line went dead.

Matt hung up the telephone on Sergeant Kenny’s desk. “He’s going to call me back,” Matt said.

“You want to wait here?”

“I think maybe I’d better.”

“We keep a pot of coffee going,” Sergeant Kenny said.

Matt’s cellular buzzed fifteen minutes later.

“I have just spoken with Mrs. Solomon,” Washington said. “Placing what I truly hope is justified confidence in your analysis of the situation, she is dispatching an assistant district attorney-probably, if she decides Peter Wohl will just have to do without his services for a day or two, Steven Cohen, Esq. As we speak, a teletype message is being prepared asking the Daphne authorities to hold Mr. Daniels. Travel arrangements similarly are under way. You will be advised of the details.”

“Yes, sir,” Matt said.

“I devoutly hope this is not premature: Good job, Matt!”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Please share that with Detective Lassiter.”

“Yes, sir.”

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