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Authors: Lawrence de Maria
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be?”
“It’s a
sell-out. Probably 700, plus another 100 or so agents, name authors, PR people,
sponsors and speakers.”
“Daunting.What
about a bomb?”
Karen Porcelli
shrugged.
“We’ll do what
we can. So will the hotel security people. Check packages. Look for nervous
types. But there’s only so much we can do. Many of the attendees will be women,
with large bags. Then there’s the so-called ‘goodie bags’ and promotional
material. Slipping in a bomb or wearing one around the waist would be no
problem for a nutcase. But that goes for any large gathering. It’s the world we
live in. The Arhaut hit was low-tech. A fucking skewer. Up close and personal.
We think any attack will be dramatic, designed to make sure everyone knows
Quimper was the target.”
They exchanged
cell phone numbers and agreed to meet when Quimper first got to the Bascombe,
so Scarne could familiarize himself with the Safeguard team.
CHAPTER 9 – MAIN LINE
After leaving
Falls Church, Scarne headed toward Philadelphia. If there was a real threat to
Quimper’s life, he wanted to draw his own conclusions about the murder of Ralph
Arhaut. Stopping only for a quick sandwich in a service plaza on I-95, he
arrived at the Haverford Township Police Department on Lancaster Pike just
after 4 PM. Ten minutes later he was escorted to the office of the commanding
officer of the Detective Division. His name was Lieutenant Bryer Burgess.
Scarne had done some homework. The Haverford P.D. wasn’t a shit-kicking
operation. The department employed almost a hundred officers. The Detective
Division alone had nine investigators.
Burgess handed
back Scarne’s I.D. He was a thin man, in shirtsleeves and tie, and wore
wire-rimmed glasses.
“Sit. You’re
the guy who called earlier about the Arhaut killing.”
“Yes.”
“What did you
do before you went private?”
“I was a cop,
investigator in the Manhattan D.A.’s office.”
“Why did you
quit?”
Scarne was
used to this type of grilling from cops, most of whom weren’t crazy about nosy
private eyes. Fortunately, the truth about his leaving the force always seemed
to endear him to his interrogators.
“A city
councilman paid off some political favors by screwing up a case I made against
some drug dealers. I held him by his heels from the balcony at City Hall. I was
asked to resign. I thought that was unfair. I didn’t drop him.”
“What happened
to the councilman?”
“He’s
President of the City Council now.”
Burgess
smiled.
“You would be
a natural in Philadelphia. How’s the pay in the private sector?”
They always
asked that.
“Varies. This
case is on the high side.”
“What’s the
case?”
“I’ve been
hired to help protect another author who has been threatened, presumably by the
same people.”
“Tell me about
it.”
Scarne did.
“Sebastian
Quimper. It must be a good payday. I tried reading his books. They suck.”
“It’s nice to
speak to a man with taste,” Scarne said.
“Ever read
John O’Hara.”
“Sure. Appointment
in Samarra, Ten North Frederick .”
“Now, there’s
a man who could write. What do you want to know?”
“Anything that
wasn’t in the papers. Leads? Suspicions? Guesses?”
Burgess tilted
his chair back and put his hands behind his head.
“No one knew
the waiter. He apparently just walked in before the luncheon wearing the same
outfit the rest of the help wore. Could have gotten the clothes from a uniform
supply company. We checked with local suppliers but no one could remember a man
fitting his description. But there are dozens of such stores in the
Philadelphia area. Probably paid cash, anyway, unless he was a complete idiot.
Only one other waiter even asked who he was and he said he was just hired.
After he killed Arhaut, he ran out of the club and hopped into a black van. A
woman was driving. Redhead. No one got a clear look at her. No one got a plate.
No markings on the van. A similar van was
“It’s a
sell-out. Probably 700, plus another 100 or so agents, name authors, PR people,
sponsors and speakers.”
“Daunting.What
about a bomb?”
Karen Porcelli
shrugged.
“We’ll do what
we can. So will the hotel security people. Check packages. Look for nervous
types. But there’s only so much we can do. Many of the attendees will be women,
with large bags. Then there’s the so-called ‘goodie bags’ and promotional
material. Slipping in a bomb or wearing one around the waist would be no
problem for a nutcase. But that goes for any large gathering. It’s the world we
live in. The Arhaut hit was low-tech. A fucking skewer. Up close and personal.
We think any attack will be dramatic, designed to make sure everyone knows
Quimper was the target.”
They exchanged
cell phone numbers and agreed to meet when Quimper first got to the Bascombe,
so Scarne could familiarize himself with the Safeguard team.
CHAPTER 9 – MAIN LINE
After leaving
Falls Church, Scarne headed toward Philadelphia. If there was a real threat to
Quimper’s life, he wanted to draw his own conclusions about the murder of Ralph
Arhaut. Stopping only for a quick sandwich in a service plaza on I-95, he
arrived at the Haverford Township Police Department on Lancaster Pike just
after 4 PM. Ten minutes later he was escorted to the office of the commanding
officer of the Detective Division. His name was Lieutenant Bryer Burgess.
Scarne had done some homework. The Haverford P.D. wasn’t a shit-kicking
operation. The department employed almost a hundred officers. The Detective
Division alone had nine investigators.
Burgess handed
back Scarne’s I.D. He was a thin man, in shirtsleeves and tie, and wore
wire-rimmed glasses.
“Sit. You’re
the guy who called earlier about the Arhaut killing.”
“Yes.”
“What did you
do before you went private?”
“I was a cop,
investigator in the Manhattan D.A.’s office.”
“Why did you
quit?”
Scarne was
used to this type of grilling from cops, most of whom weren’t crazy about nosy
private eyes. Fortunately, the truth about his leaving the force always seemed
to endear him to his interrogators.
“A city
councilman paid off some political favors by screwing up a case I made against
some drug dealers. I held him by his heels from the balcony at City Hall. I was
asked to resign. I thought that was unfair. I didn’t drop him.”
“What happened
to the councilman?”
“He’s
President of the City Council now.”
Burgess
smiled.
“You would be
a natural in Philadelphia. How’s the pay in the private sector?”
They always
asked that.
“Varies. This
case is on the high side.”
“What’s the
case?”
“I’ve been
hired to help protect another author who has been threatened, presumably by the
same people.”
“Tell me about
it.”
Scarne did.
“Sebastian
Quimper. It must be a good payday. I tried reading his books. They suck.”
“It’s nice to
speak to a man with taste,” Scarne said.
“Ever read
John O’Hara.”
“Sure. Appointment
in Samarra, Ten North Frederick .”
“Now, there’s
a man who could write. What do you want to know?”
“Anything that
wasn’t in the papers. Leads? Suspicions? Guesses?”
Burgess tilted
his chair back and put his hands behind his head.
“No one knew
the waiter. He apparently just walked in before the luncheon wearing the same
outfit the rest of the help wore. Could have gotten the clothes from a uniform
supply company. We checked with local suppliers but no one could remember a man
fitting his description. But there are dozens of such stores in the
Philadelphia area. Probably paid cash, anyway, unless he was a complete idiot.
Only one other waiter even asked who he was and he said he was just hired.
After he killed Arhaut, he ran out of the club and hopped into a black van. A
woman was driving. Redhead. No one got a clear look at her. No one got a plate.
No markings on the van. A similar van was
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