By Order of the President (Presidential Agent 1)

“I had the feeling you and I could work this out amicably between us,” Miller said and let him go.

[FIVE]

Philadelphia Police Department Counterterrorism Bureau Frankford Industrial Complex Building 110 Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 1505 9 June 2005

“It’s going to take some time to check out all these people,” Chief Inspector Kramer said, tapping his fingers on the stack of Daily Employment Records Mr. Ed Thorne of Aviation Cleaning Services, Inc., had somewhat less than graciously provided to them, and then went on to explain, “I want to run them past as many people as I can, not just the undercover guys.”

“I understand,” Castillo said. “Have you been able to contact any of your undercover people?”

“All of them,” Kramer said. “But all that means is they know we want a meet. The problem is setting up the meets. That has to be done very carefully. And that won’t happen in the daytime.”

He paused and then raised his eyes to Castillo. “Is there anything else you’d like to look into, like to see?”

Castillo smiled. “You mean that not only wouldn’t we be useful around here but in the way?”

“You said it, I didn’t,” Kramer said.

“Dick, when was the last time you saw the Liberty Bell?” Castillo asked.

“Aside from driving past it, I guess I was in the eighth grade,” Miller replied.

“I think maybe you should have a fresh look at it,” Castillo said.

“Good idea,” Kramer said, smiling. “If anything opens up, I’ll give you a call.”

“I’m sure you noticed the NO PARKING sign,” Miller said to Betty Schneider as she slowed the Crown Victoria, stopped, turned on the seat, and started to back up to the Market Street curb.

He was in the front passenger seat beside her.

“Not only can I read but I can tie my own shoes,” she said. “We’re on official police business.”

She saw Castillo smiling and smiled back.

“Tell him, Sarge,” Castillo said.

“That’s a National Park Service sign,” Miller argued, pointing. “Does that ‘official police business’ business work on the feds? On federal property?”

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sp; “Market Street belongs to Philadelphia,” she said. “Federal property begins just past the sidewalk.” She pointed down the open area to the structure erected over the Liberty Bell and to Independence Hall behind it. “Sometimes, there’s a jurisdictional problem.”

“Really? How so?” Castillo asked.

She was getting out of the car and didn’t reply.

When he was standing on the sidewalk, Castillo saw a Philadelphia police officer walking quickly down the sidewalk toward them. Then the policeman took a close look at the car, nodded, half smiled, and started walking back up Market Street, toward City Hall.

He sensed that Betty had seen him watching the policeman.

“How did he know you were a cop?” Castillo asked. “And on official business?”

“Masculine intuition, is what I think they call it,” she said.

“Touché,” Castillo chuckled.

“I don’t think I’ve been here since eighth grade, either,” Betty said as they started to walk down the plaza toward the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall.

“I don’t remember that,” Miller said, pointing at the words cast into the bell.