The Investigators Part 88

"That's not going to get her off, Matt," Matthews said. "If that's what you're thinking. They're going after your girlfriend as an accessory after the fact. The fact that she received what she knew to be stolen property-"

"She didn't know it was," Matt said. "All she knew was that it came from Bryan Chenowith. It was not until I suggested to her that it might be the loot-"

" 'Might be the loot'? Jesus!"

"-from the banks Chenowith has been knocking off that this occurred to her. She was naturally-being a respectable citizen from a somewhat sheltered background-very distressed to consider that she had been used."

"Matt, that's not going to work. Christ, they've got film of her-you saw it-of her meeting with Chenowith in the Poconos!"

"We're going to give it a shot, Jack," Matt said.

"What I'm going to do right now-Christ, do you realize what a spot you've put me in with Davis?"

"What we're going to do right now, Jack, is go arrest Jennifer Ollwood," Matt interrupted.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means we're going to arrest Jennifer Ollwood."

"You know where she is?"

"I know where she's going to be," Matt said. "And once we have her in custody, I will lead the FBI to where Miss Reynolds has shown me we can find Mr. Chenowith and his pimply-faced sidekick."

"If you think I'm going off with you, alone, to arrest that woman, you're out of your mind."

"Okay, then you stay here in your car and wait for me to bring her to you."

Matt reached up and s.n.a.t.c.hed the keys from the ignition switch.

"Don't be childish!" Matthews said, as much in disgust as anger. "Give me the keys back!"

"I figure it will take you five minutes to find the police station, and another ten before you can find someone who will both believe the wild story you're going to tell him and has enough authority to act on it, and another ten minutes-minimum-before they can locate an unmarked Plymouth. By that time, I'll have the Ollwood woman in the back of my car."

"And then what do you think is going to happen to you?"

"Then I will lead the FBI to Chenowith."

"That's not what I meant. And you know it. You're going to go to jail, Matt."

Susan inhaled audibly in the backseat.

"For what? For arresting somebody wanted on a murder rap? For stealing your car keys?"

"They call it obstructing justice," Matthews said. "And interfering with a federal officer in the execution of his office, and-"

"On the other hand, you could go with me," Matt said. "We grab Ollwood, take her to the locals, tell them who she is, and ask them do they want to grab Chenowith?"

"You mean not even call the Anti-Terrorist Group?"

"It would take them at least an hour, probably much longer, to get up here. No telling where Chenowith would be by then, particularly if Ollwood doesn't come back when she's supposed to."

"That's insane."

"Ollwood has got another 'package' she wants Susan to keep for her," Matt said.

"More bank loot."

"What else? And you could grab that, too. Which do you think Walter Davis would prefer? That-presuming Chenowith and whatsisname, acne face?-"

"Edgar L. Cole," Matthews furnished.

"-Cole aren't long gone by the time they get up here-that those Anti-Terrorist clowns grab them, in his area of responsibility? Or that one of his own agents, seizing the moment, did?"

"G.o.dd.a.m.n you, Matt!" Matthews said.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"Give me the d.a.m.ned keys," Matthews said, putting his hand out for them.

"After you tell me where we're going."

"We're going to go and play supercop, what did you think?"

"In three minutes," Matt said.

"What?"

"Go on, Susan," Matt said.

" 'Go on, Susan'?" Matthews parrotted.

"You don't have to go, either of you," Susan said. "Let me try to reason with her, Matt."

"We've been all over that," Matt said angrily. "It's d.a.m.ned near seven. Get going!"

"Oh, G.o.d," Susan said, but she got out of the car and trotted over to Matt's Plymouth.

"What makes you think she's going to do what you want her to do?" Matthews asked.

"She will," Matt said as he watched Susan get in the car.

"Are you really involved involved with her, Matt?" with her, Matt?"

"I'm in love with her."

"You poor son of a b.i.t.c.h!"

Susan started the car and drove out of the parking lot.

Matt handed the ignition keys to Matthews.

"Give it a minute, and then head up Route 611," he said. "I didn't want it to look, if Ollwood is already there, as if somebody was tailing Susan."

Matthews nodded "How far is Chenowith?" he asked.

"About fifteen miles out of town," Matt said. "I checked the place out. You'll have no trouble surrounding it. And there's no other houses near."

Matthews grunted, and started the engine.

"Jack, Susan got into this because she felt sorry for the Ollwood girl. She's not part of that bunch of lunatics."

"Oh, you poor son of a b.i.t.c.h! You really believe that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I believe it," Matt said. "Okay. Here's what's going down. We're going to the Crossroads Diner."

"I know it."

"Behind it is a bank of pay phones. At seven o'clock, Ollwood is going to call Susan on one of them, to see if she's there. One of two things will happen then. Ollwood will either come to the restaurant, or she will tell Susan to meet her someplace else."

"Maybe at Chenowith's?"

"I don't think so. I don't think Chenowith wants Susan to come to his house; otherwise, he would have just told her to. But someplace else, that's possible. If that happens, we'll have to play that by ear."

Matthews put his Chevrolet in reverse, backed out of his parking slot, and drove slowly out of the parking lot.

"What if Ollwood is already at the restaurant, gives your girlfriend the package, and takes off?"

"That's possible. When we get there, cruise the parking lot. We're looking for an old Ford station wagon and/or a battered Volkswagen."

"If Ollwood has taken off, then what, Matt?"

"This is as far as I'm going, Jack. We go to the locals and ask for their help."

Susan was talking on one of the pay phones when Matthews drove around to the back of the Crossroads Diner.

So was a young, grossly obese young woman in overalls with a small child perched on her hip.

Susan gave no indication that she had seen Matthews's car as they drove by her.

Matthews turned the corner of the building and stopped.

"I didn't see a Bug or a station wagon," Matthews said. "Did you?"

"No. What's likely to happen is that Ollwood will come here and just give her the package. We don't want her to get out of the parking lot."

"Okay. You get out, see what Susan has to say, and I'll start looking for Ollwood's car. I'll try to block it. If necessary, I'll ram it."

Matt jumped out of the Chevrolet, and Matthews began to turn his car around.

Matt entered the front of the restaurant, then looked out a window to see that Susan, now off the phone, was still at the bank of pay phones.

Then he went out the back door of the restaurant and made his way through the parked cars until he was across the lane from Susan.

He had to call "honey" twice before she saw him crouched low between the fenders of a Dodge and a Ford.

"She's coming, right away, to pick me up," Susan said.

The grossly obese young woman, in the act of counting change, looked at Susan curiously, and then even more curiously when she saw Matt.

Matt backed up and retraced his path through the restaurant.

Jack's car was nowhere in sight, but a row of garbage cans had been placed across the road to block it.

Matt could see curious faces on people wearing cook's whites looking out from the restaurant's kitchen; Jack Matthews had obviously shown them his badge and explained what he was doing with the garbage cans.

And, as obviously, he planned to block the lane from the other end.

Matt walked quickly down the front of the restaurant, looking for Matthews' Chevrolet. He found it and started to walk toward it, when he saw the battered Volkswagen turning into the parking lot.

He walked, as quickly as he could-without appearing to be running, just some guy going to his car-forcing himself not to look again at the Volkswagen, until he was parallel to where Susan stood at the bank of pay phones.

He got there just as the Volkswagen stopped.

Susan went to it and pulled the door open.

Matt ran to the Volkswagen and tried to pull the driver's door open. He had decided the best way to restrain Jenny Ollwood was to jerk her out of the car and throw her on the ground.

He had solved the problem of having no handcuffs by "forgetting" to return the pair he had borrowed from Lieutenant Deitrich when they had arrested Calhoun. He would put the borrowed set on Jennifer Ollwood.

The Volkswagen driver's-side door was locked.

"You are under arrest!" he shouted.

Jennifer Ollwood looked up at him, not in fear but fury. "Motherf.u.c.king pig!" she screamed.

The Volkswagen raced off.

Matt dropped to his knees to take his pistol from his ankle holster.

There was a burst of carbine fire, seven, eight, ten rounds. Matt looked down the lane.

Chenowith was standing in the center of it, trying to clear a jam.

"Drop the gun!" Jack Matthews shouted.