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"You think anyone will come?"

"Edibles and intoxicants may entice one or two. And simple curiosity about Castle Pekach will entice some of the others. I don't want to make it a command performance. Is Henry going to grace the premises?"

Captain Henry C. Quaire was commanding officer of the Homicide unit.

"My Martha called Whatshername."

"Gladys," Washington furnished.

"Gladys and Henry will be there," Pekach said.

"Why am I not surprised?" Washington said.

Gladys Quaire regarded an invitation to 606 Glengarry Lane as the Philadelphia equivalent of an invitation to watch the races at Ascot from the Royal Enclosure.

Pekach chuckled, then said goodbye.

[FOUR]

When Dr. and Mrs. Benjamin Solomon drove through the gate at Glengarry Lane, the macadam road to the house was lined with various models of Ford Crown Victoria automobiles. They were in Ben's Cadillac, as Eileen was wearing what she thought of as her Doctor's Wife hat.

But she could not leave her D.A.'s hat very far behind. In the new Ford Crown Victoria that followed the Cadillac into what was still known as the Peebles Estate, Detective Albert Unger of the District Attorney's Squad pushed his microphone button as he rolled past the gate.

"Radio, D-One."

"Go, D-One."

"At 606 Glengarry Lane in Chestnut Hill until further notice."

"Got it."

Philadelphia provides an unmarked detective-driven police car to its district attorney. The detective, of course, also serves as bodyguard to the D.A. Usually, this made sense, and it was nice to be picked up at the house and dropped off by a car. But sometimes--now, for example--it didn't.

There were going to be at least thirty--knowing Martha, probably more--police officers at 606 Glengarry Lane, all of them armed, and many senior enough to be accompanied by their own armed drivers. The person of the district attorney was going to be about as safe as it could be. And if something happened that required the immediate presence of the district attorney, any of the white shirts' unmarked cars would be available to take her there with siren howling.

But, because he went where she went, poor Al Unger would just have to hang around the car waiting for the radio to go off while the D.A. was at the party. He wouldn't be alone. Deputy Commissioner Coughlin's driver and the drivers of the other senior white shirts would also have to hang around waiting for their radios to go off. Martha Peebles Pekach would ensure, of course, that the caterer's waiters would make sure they were fed.

Eileen was not surprised--the weather was wonderful-- that the party was being held outside the stables. Alexander Peebles's polo ponies were long gone, and the grass field where they had once played was ideal for an outside party.

Tables had been set up, and waiters moved among them serving drinks and steaks and Italian sausage from charcoal stoves.

Their hostess and her husband greeted them as they walked on the field.

"Sorry to be late, Ben had to work," Eileen said, hugging Martha Peebles.

"You're here, that's all that matters," Martha Peebles said. She kissed Dr. Solomon. "I put you with the Paynes," Martha went on, gesturing toward one of the tables.

"Guess who I got a postcard from?" Captain Pekach said.

"When you get a minute, I've got something to tell you about that," Eileen said.

"In a couple of minutes," Pekach said.

Eileen saw Ben smiling, and she saw why. Amelia A. Payne, M.D., was sitting with her parents. Ben not only would have someone to talk to--he really had little in common with the cops, or for that matter with Brewster C. Payne--and he and Amy Payne both liked each other and shared a disdain for some of their fellow healers at the University of Pennsylvania Medical School and many of UP's bureaucratic procedures, about which they could--and almost certainly would--talk at length.

Deputy Commissioner Coughlin and Brewster C. Payne got to their feet as the Solomons approached the table.

The