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“So what I’m celebrating is that an hour ago Eileen Solomon called to tell me that she had just spoken with the Attorney General of Alabama, who told her-in case Daniels changes his mind about waiving extradition-that the governor of Alabama would authorize his extradition just as soon as we place the request before him. And just a few minutes ago the homicide detective… Joe D’Amata, I think you know him?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“… called Denny from the airport to say he and the others, including several lab people, are indeed going to be aboard the five-fifty flight to Alabama. Joe’s carrying the request-for-extradition packet with him in case it’s needed.”

“You apparently have this pretty well sewed up,” Davis said.

“It looks that way, Walter. And what Denny and Brewster are celebrating is young Payne’s faultless performance- starting with his finding this fellow down there- on his first time out as a homicide supervisor.”

Mr. Davis’s scotch rocks was served.

He raised his glass to Brewster Cortland Payne II.

“To Sergeant Payne,” he said. “And at the risk of making Denny angry, Brewster, you know how much I would like to have your son working for the Bureau. And the offer is still open.”

“So is Mawson, Payne, Stockton, McAdoo and Lester’s, Walter, but the police department seems to have him firmly in its clutches.”

“Before Steve and Matt get into the wine and become incoherent, ” Washington said, “I think an analysis of where we are and where we have to go would be in order.”

Mr. Cohen gave Lieutenant Washington the finger.

They were sitting in upholstered chairs around two tables pushed together in the Bird Cage Lounge at the Grand Hotel.

Perhaps understandably, they were the object of some curiosity on the part of other guests. There were two enormous black men who looked like brothers, one of them in police uniform. There was a second uniformed police officer, a small man. There was an attractive young woman in the otherwise all-male ensemble, but she seemed to be sitting as far away as was possible in the circumstances from the only young man in the group. And finally, there was a dignified man in a double-breasted gray suit and finely figured necktie sitting beside a man with wildly unruly red hair, who was wearing an open-collared yellow polo shirt and a yellow-and-red plaid jacket.

“Where do we stand legally, Steve?” Washington asked.

“Joe D’Amata’s in the air right now,” Cohen said. “He’s got the warrant for Daniels’s arrest and the request-for-extradition packet, in case Daniels changes his mind about waiving extradition-”

“And if he does?” Washington interrupted.

“Eileen has talked to the Alabama attorney general,” Cohen replied. “He told her the governor will sign the extradition order as soon as he gets it. If we have to go that route, I’ll have to go to Montgomery, which raises the question ‘How do I get there’?”

“Mr. Cohen,” Chief Yancey said, “if you have to go, we can get you there in probably a little less than three hours. It’s a straight shot up I-65. The troopers would be happy to carry you.”

“The state troopers?”

Yancey nodded. “We do it all the time. We call it a handoff. A car would pick you up here, then go as far as he usually patrols up I-65. Another trooper car would meet you there. And maybe another one before you got to Montgomery. But they’ll get you there, and be happy to do it.”

“Well, that would really solve that problem,” Cohen said. “But let’s hope it doesn’t prove necessary.”

“Kenny?” the chief asked.

“I’ll set it up, in case we need it,” Sergeant Kenny said.

“Okay, that settles that,” Cohen said. “Now, where was I? Okay. With Joe on the airplane are two lab technicians, we don’t know who yet, and two detectives, ditto. They’re going to change planes in Atlanta, fly to Pensacola, pick up a rental car, probably two rental cars, and then drive here, to the world-famous $37.50 No-Tell Motel, where Matt and Olivia are staying.”

“I had a call from Peter Wohl, Steve,” Washington said. “We know who the detectives are. Mutt and Jeff.”

“Really?” Matt asked. “What are they going to do when they get here? And what about Stan Colt?”

“All I know is Inspector Wohl said that’s who he’s sending,

and what they’re going to do is sit on Daniels’s truck as long as it’s here, and when we locate a truck, or trucks, large enough to haul Daniels’s truck-with contents-back to Philadelphia, they’re going to ride back with it.”

“When are you going to search the truck?” Chief Yancey asked.

“Where we are legally with that, Chief,” Cohen said, “is that Matt has statements from Fats Gambino and you, Fats’s stating that he saw Daniels lock the truck and trailer in his locked and guarded lot, and the truck has been there, under guard, since then. Yours states that the keys in your possession believed to be those to the truck and trailer were taken from Daniels at the time of his arrest and have never left police possession since that time. Tomorrow, the lab technicians will make an examination to see if anyone has forced any locks, and be prepared to testify they saw no evidence of such. I don’t know for sure, but what they will do then is probably see what prints and whatever they can get from the exterior of the truck-stuff that might get lost between here and Philadelphia-and then conduct a cursory search of the interiors of the truck and tractor. If they don’t find a body-which is not entirely out of the question here-or something else spectacular, they will seal both tractor and trailer as well as they can, and supervise the loading of it onto whatever we finally get to haul it back to Philadelphia.”