"Matt, I know you're there, pick up the damned telephone."
That was Amelia Payne, M.D. He wondered what the hell she wanted, and then realized she probably wanted a report on Penny Detweiler's trip home.
Then Brewster Cortland Payne II's voice: "Matt, Amy insisted I try to get you to call her. She's positive you're there and just not picking up. She wants to talk to you about Penny. Will you call her, ple
ase? Whenever you get home?"
The next voice was Charley McFadden's: "Matt, Charley. Give me a call as soon as you can. I gotta talk to you about something. Oh. How was Las Vegas?"
Something's wrong. I wonder what? Well, it'll have to wait.
"Matt, this is Penny. I just wanted to say 'thank you' for coming out there to get me. I forgot to thank you at the airport. When you have a minute, call me, and I'll buy you an ice-cream cone or lunch or something. Ciao."
Oh, Christ, I don't want to get sucked into that!
"Matt, this is Joe D'Amata. They took your lady friend's car to the Plymouth place in Upper Darby. I called her house, and there was no answer. If we'd left it at the scene, there would be nothing left but the ignition switch."
Jesus, why didn't I think about just calling Joe from her house? Because you were thinking with your dick, again, Matthew!
"Payne, this is Al Sutton. If you were thinking of coming to work this morning, don't. They want you in Chief Lowenstein's office at half past one."
Now, what the hell is that about? Something to do with last night?
He pushed the REWIND button and went into his bedroom and laid out fresh clothes on his bed. He picked a light brown suit, since he was possibly going to see Chief Lowenstein and did not want to look like Joe College. Then he took his clothing off.
The doorbell rang.
He searched for and found his bathrobe and went to the intercom.
"Yeah?"
"You were right, I don't want to wait down there," Mrs. Glover said. "May I come up?"
He pushed the door release button and heard it open. She came up the stairs.
"That wasn't exactly true," she said. "Curiosity got the best of me."
"They took your car to the Plymouth place in Upper Darby," Matt said. "There was a message on the machine. Let me grab a shower, and I'll take you out there."
"They don't open until nine-thirty," she said.
"Well, we'll just have to wait."
He smiled uneasily at her, and then walked back in the apartment toward his bedroom.
"Matt…"
He turned.
"Was that true, what you said, about you don't have much in common with girls your own age?"
"Yes, it was."
"You're a really nice guy. Be patient. Someone will come along."
"I hope so," he said, and turned again and went and had his shower.
When he came out, he sensed movement in his kitchen. He cracked the door open. Mrs. Glover was leaning against the refrigerator. She had a cheese glass in one hand, and a bottle of his cognac in the other.