“Mr. Colt needed protection? From what, Jesus?”
“Excuse me?”
“What does Stan Colt need police protection from, Jesus? Pretty women?”
“You bet he does. They was all over the street outside the hotel.”
“Who was?”
“His fans were. His lady fans.”
“And they were all beautiful?”
“Not all of them. Some was dogs.”
“Well, Phil,” the mayor of Philadelphia said, “you asked for the truth.”
“Yes, I did,” Phil said. “Detective Martinez-Jesus-what I’m interested to hear-what all the folks out there in Phil’s Philly want to hear-is what happened in Stan Colt’s hotel room.”
“Okay.”
“You’re going to tell me, right?”
“Lassiter told him what had gone down on the Williamson job.”
“By which you mean the brutal murder of Cheryl Williamson? You call that a job?”
“That’s what we call it.”
“And why did Detective Lassiter feel she was equipped to tell him ‘what had gone down’? And why was she telling him?”
“She was the first detective on the scene. And the Homicide captain told her to tell him.”
“I see,” Phil said. “And what you’re telling me-correct me if I’m wrong-is that all that happened in Stan Colt’s hotel room was that Detective Lassiter told him about the Williamson murder?”
“Yeah.”
“She told him everything, right?”
“Probably not. She’s a pretty good cop, from what I’ve seen, and I don’t think she told him everything.”
“Why not? What’s everything?”
“You don’t tell civilians some things about a job. I don’t know what she didn’t tell him, but I’m sure there was a lot.”
“And what else happened?”
“He bought us a steak dinner. He’s a pretty good guy.”
“Phil,” the mayor of Philadelphia said, “I really hate to break this up, but Detective Martinez has got to get back to his duty-Mr. Colt is having lunch with the cardinal in connection with his fund-raising for West Catholic High School, and Detective Martinez has to be with him. And I’ve got a pretty full plate myself. How about just one more question?”
“Well, let me think of one more question,” Mr. Donaldson said, “to ask for all the folks out there in Phil’s Philly.”
He paused a moment.
“Just tell me the first thing that pops into your mind, Jesus, please,” he said. “Do you think assigning police officers to protect Mr. Colt is a good investment of the time of yourself and other detectives like you?”
“Hell, yes. Christ, he comes to town to raise money for West Catholic. It wouldn’t be right if we let his fans get at him. They’re nutty. What they would like to do is tear his clothes off for souvenirs.”