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Matt had met Charley Law only once, but had heard stories about him from Jason Washington, who'd known Law during his twenty years with the department in Northeast Detectives. Washington had said that her old man always had been full of commonsense gems, that he'd been a good cop because he could quickly strip away the bulls.h.i.t and cut right to the chase.
Law had been off duty when he took a bullet to the hip. He'd walked in on a robbery of a gas station on Frankford Avenue. Returning fire, he'd shot the critter dead then and there-and wound up being offered disability and retirement. And he'd taken it, saying he was glad to get the h.e.l.l out, if only to get past all the lame jokes about his name-"Well, well, here comes The The Law." Law."
When Matt had first tried dating Amanda-right before the abduction-she had made it d.a.m.n perfectly clear what a toll her father's job had taken on their family. She told him about the daily pain of watching him go to work, and fearing that that would be the last time they'd see him alive.
Amanda went on: "When I turned thirteen, Dad sat me down at the kitchen table. He said, 'This is your birds-and-bees speech. Pay attention. We're on this planet basically to do two things: eat and reproduce. And we eat in order to have the energy to reproduce. Everything else-your clothes, TV, music, vacations, whatever-it's all filler for between the reproduction times. That's what we're hardwired to do. Understanding that, you will know that boys want nothing more than to get in your pants and will tell you whatever you want to hear to accomplish that. So, understand that you-and only you-can control who gets in your pants.'"
Payne avoided eye contact as he took a long, slow sip of his drink.
Then he said, "I'm afraid to ask, but am I supposed to respond to that?"
She smiled. "No, I'm just trying to paint a picture."
He chuckled nervously. "That's one h.e.l.luva picture."
"The picture I'm painting is that my dad and I have a close connection. And recently, Dad and I were talking about relationships. He told me that 'n.o.body has the first d.a.m.n answer why two people ever get together,' only that there was the hardwiring. But he could offer me the benefit of looking back, at his marriage and those of others. His experience.
"He said, 'Amanda, so many women go into a relationship thinking they're going to change the man, make him better. Civilize him. It just doesn't work.'"
Matt looked in her eyes, then said, "I need civilizing?"
Amanda shook her head. "No, it's not that at all. It's more that both people in the relationship need to be in concert from the start. Not, as my dad said, have one trying to 'fix' the other along the way."
Matt took a sip of his Scotch and nodded. "I fully agree with that."
Amanda was silent a long moment.
Oh, s.h.i.t! Did I just paint myself into a corner?
"Then why won't you quit playing cop, Matt? And trying to get yourself killed?"
I wonder if she's been talking about this with Amy, who's been banging that drum forever?
The smooth voice of Diana Krall was now singing "The Look of Love," and Matt thought, She's got the player on shuffle. Has she been playing those CDs all night? She's got the player on shuffle. Has she been playing those CDs all night?
Amanda took a sip of her wine, then said, "Okay, now the fun part."
"What?"
"Bear with me," she said. "Not too long before she died at seventy-three, looking gorgeous even at the end, Anne Bancroft-"
She paused and looked at him questioningly.
Matt said, "Sure. Wife of one of the funniest guys ever, Mel Brooks."
"Not just a wife. She was a successful actress on her own, you know."
"Really? Like what?"
"She's one of the few with a Tony, an Emmy, and an Oscar to her name. And you still still only know her as Mel Brooks's wife?" only know her as Mel Brooks's wife?"
Payne shook his head. "Sorry."
"She was Mrs. Robinson."
"Mrs. Robinson?"
"The Graduate ? ?"
"Never heard of it."
Frustrated, she sighed. "Matt! You can't be that dense."
He grinned. Then he started whistling the Simon & Garfunkel hit tune from the soundtrack, appropriately t.i.tled "Mrs. Robinson."
Amanda punched him in the shoulder. He thought it was somewhat playfully done, but the sad look on her face didn't seem to support that.
"Oh, you are just impossible!" she said, her tone exasperated, then upended her wine stem, emptying it.
He made an attempt at a smile, but she was having none of it. Then he leaned forward, touched her chin with the thumb and index finger of his right hand to lift her head, and kissed her on the cheek.
"Sorry. I was just playing. What were you going to say?"
"Well, Matt, I'm not playing. G.o.ddammit, I'm serious."
She inhaled deeply, exhaled, then said: "Not too long before Anne Bancroft died-and she didn't say it because everyone knew she had cancer; she was very private, and no one knew she was dying but Mel Brooks and her doctors-she was asked in an interview what the secret was to her successful-and quite clearly loving-forty-year marriage."
Oh, s.h.i.t. I think I see where this is going.
He said: "Okay . . ."
"And what do you think she said, Matt?"
Watch out, Matty, ol' boy.
This is a minefield.
Step carefully or . . . BOOM!
He thought for a long moment, then said, "I don't know. What with being married to a brilliant writer, actor, director, probably something about patience. And about respect. And real love, of course."
"Yes and no."
"She said 'yes and no'?"
"No! What she said was all that you said-and more. But she didn't list them. It was the way she phrased it." What she said was all that you said-and more. But she didn't list them. It was the way she phrased it."
With his right hand, somewhat anxiously, he made a gesture that said And that was? And that was? Then he saw her face, and immediately regretted it. Then he saw her face, and immediately regretted it.
Amanda said, "Didn't you just in your last breath suggest that patience was a virtue to have in a good lasting relationship?"
Well, KAAA-f.u.c.kING-BOOM, Matty!
Nice job. You may as well have just taken a running dive onto that minefield.
"I'm sorry, baby."
"Well, d.a.m.n it, Matt! You should be. Because this is really important to me. Because you're important to me."
She paused, and she looked deeply, and genuinely lovingly, into his eyes.
It was powerful, and he felt his throat tighten.
She truly is a G.o.ddess.
And I truly am a complete and utter a.s.s.
"Amanda, I'm sorry."
"What she said was this: 'When I hear the tires of his car come crunching up the stone drive of our house in Connecticut, I visualize him and think, 'Now the fun begins.'"
Amanda stared Matt in the eyes again.
"Do you see?" Amanda said softly. "There was an excitement to their relationship. They weren't together for any reason other than enjoying one another. Love, too, but enjoyment."
He looked at her and thought, The way it is in the beginning, when just the thought of your mate makes your heart beat faster. The way it is in the beginning, when just the thought of your mate makes your heart beat faster.
She added, "Theirs was a true companionship. A real relationship. Joyful."
He nodded.
"Now the fun begins," she repeated. "I want that, Matt. I need that. Now, and especially later, when most don't have it." she repeated. "I want that, Matt. I need that. Now, and especially later, when most don't have it."
She looked down a moment, then back up at him, and softly added: "I felt felt that when I heard your key in the lock earlier. that when I heard your key in the lock earlier. Now the fun begins. . . Now the fun begins. . . ." ."
They looked each other in the eyes, and after what seemed like a very long time, Amanda said, "You don't have any response to that?"
Matt didn't trust his voice to speak.
He raised his eyebrows, then cleared this throat.
"Only," he said carefully, "that I really admire Mel even more now. And, yeah, I want that, too."
They stared at each other for a moment.
"It sounds like there was a 'but' coming," Amanda said. "Do you think it's possible?"
He hesitated, then rolled his eyes.
"Nah," he said. "Obviously, only in the movies."
Her eyes grew wide with shock. "What?"
Then he smiled, held her hand, and said, "Baby, not yes, but h.e.l.l yes it's possible."
He wrapped his arms around her. She rested her head on his shoulder.
As he gently squeezed, he said, "I do want that, too. I want you, Amanda, more than anything."
Did I just prove her father's point-that I'll say anything she wants to hear? Particularly to get her naked?
But it's more than that.
I meant what I said. I do want her.
I just have no d.a.m.n idea what to say if she asks about me quitting the department.
He felt her arms wrap around him, and she squeezed gently back. She buried her nose behind his ear and softly kissed his neck.
As he thought he heard her begin to sniffle, he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
"I've Got You Under My Skin" came softly from the speakers.
IX.
[ONE].
2027 Fairmount Avenue, Philadelphia Sunday, November 1, 7:22 P.M.
H. Rapp Badde, Jr., sitting in his Range Rover parked at the curb near the corner of Corinthian and Fairmount Avenues, knew that his sudden dark mood had not been caused by his view of the medieval Eastern State Penitentiary. But the haunting and imposing two-hundred-year-old structure d.a.m.n sure wasn't helping his att.i.tude, despite the signage he'd days earlier ordered bolted to its ma.s.sive stone walls.
The sign-one of a dozen fabricated by the same local company that did all of PEGI's projects-was a four-by-eight-foot sheet of plywood painted bright white. Its bold black lettering read: MOVING PHILLY FORWARD! MOVING PHILLY FORWARD!.
COMING SOON TO FAIRMOUNT: THE VOLKS HAUS AFFORDABLE APARTMENT LIVING.
FOUR 500-UNIT HIGH-RISE TOWERS!.
ANOTHER FINE DEVELOPMENT FOR YOUR FUTURE FROM PHILADELPHIA ECONOMIC GENTRIFICATION INITIATIVE.
A PROJECT OF THE CITY OF PHILADELPHIA HOUSING & URBAN DEVELOPMENT COUNCILMAN H. RAPP BADDE, JR., CHAIRMAN.
Though PEGI had not yet received the paperwork from the bureaucrats in Washington, D.C., releasing the decrepit property to them, Badde felt enough time had been wasted and had given the go-ahead for the posting of the signs.
It had taken more of his political skills than he'd expected for his Housing and Urban Development Committee to take over the property from the nonprofit historical a.s.sociation that oversaw it. And he'd really wanted to rub it in the faces of the people who'd tried tripping him up every step of the way.
"For chrissake, Jan," he'd said in the beginning, "even those d.a.m.ned do-gooders call it a 'preserved ruin.' If we have to, we can play the eminent-domain card and say it's a neighborhood hazard, a danger that needs to be condemned. Who the h.e.l.l wants something that ugly in their neighborhood that's not even being maintained? Not when we can take federal funds and build housing for our voters."