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Quaire nodded.

"Consider yourself as of right now on temporary assignment to Dignitary Protection," he said, and added, to McGuire: "Getting Sergeant Payne to Northeast Detectives Division to give his statement is now your responsibility, Lieutenant."

"Thanks a lot," McGuire said.

"Captain, can't I get out of that?" Matt asked.

"Ask Lieutenant McGuire," Quaire said. "You are now working for him."

"I'm working the Williamson job," Matt said.

"You are now working the Stan Colt job, Sergeant Payne," McGuire said. "Mr. Colt, who will arrive at approximately three-fifteen, told Monsignor Schneider, who told the cardinal, who told the commissioner, who told me, that he's really looking forward to working with you."

"What does that mean?"

Quaire and McGuire smiled at each other.

"I think," McGuire explained, smiling broadly, "that when the monsignor--who apparently is one of your biggest fans-- spoke with Mr. Colt, he told him about your many heroic exploits. I think Mr. Colt heard that when Harrison Ford was preparing to make the movie Witness he came here to spend time with a real, live Philadelphia homicide detective . . ."

"Jesus Christ!" Matt said.

". . . and has apparently decided that what was good enough for Harrison Ford is good enough for him."

"Harrison Ford is an actor. Colt is a goddamn joke!"

"Don't let the monsignor hear you say that," Quaire said. "Much less the commissioner."

"And for that matter, I have one day on the job in Homicide. I am hardly an experienced--"

"Lie down, shut up, and take this like a man, Matt," Quaire said. "You're dead. The commissioner has spoken."

"It's a dirty job, Sergeant, but someone has to do it," McGuire said, smiling broadly.

Quaire chuckled. Matt glared at McGuire, who didn't seem to notice.

"Mr. Colt," McGuire went on, "will arrive by private jet at North Philadelphia Airport at three-fifteen. He will be met by the commissioner--or possibly the mayor, if he can get free; or both--Monsignor Schneider, myself, four Highway Patrol bikes, two of my people, representatives of the media, and of course you. Following what that good-looking press agent-- What's her name?"

"Terry Davis," Matt furnished, automatically.

Jesus, Terry! She certainly dropped off my radar screen in a hurry after Olivia, didn't she?

"--what Miss Terry Davis," McGuire went on, "refers to as a 'photo op,' Mr. Colt and party will proceed--escorted by the Highway bikes--to the office of the cardinal, where there will be another photo op as the cardinal welcomes Mr. Colt back to Philadelphia . . ."

"He's just a movie actor," Matt said, shaking his head. "A lousy movie actor!"

"Who is about to raise several million dollars for West Catholic High School," Captain Quaire said. "Which pleases the cardinal, and whatever pleases the cardinal pleases the commissioner."

". . . following which," McGuire went on, "we will proceed to the Ritz-Carlton. Highway's responsibility--the bikes-- will end there. They'll provide bikes to escort his limo to the events, but aside from that, it's up to me to protect Mr. Colt from his hordes of fans, and you to keep him happy."

"What makes him happy is young girls," Matt said.

"Excuse me, Sergeant?" Quaire asked, coldly.

"Mr. Colt apparently likes young girls," Matt said. "Very young girls."

"Did you get that from one of the magazines in a supermarket checkout lane, or do you have another source of information? " Quaire asked, sarcastically.

"Terry Davis told me," Matt said. "I think she wants us to be prepared for that."

"Oh, God!" Quaire said. "She wasn't pulling your leg, Matt?"

"No, sir. I'm sure she was serious."

"That should make this interesting for you, Gerry," Quaire said.

"I don't know how to handle something like that," Matt said.

"We'll just have to sit on him around the clock," McGuire said. "If something like that gets in the papers, we'll be held responsible."

"He wants to see how real cops work," Quaire said. "Show him. Everything from school crossing guards up. Keep him busy."

"He's