"We have a minute, with Larkin and Young gone, to talk about what we do now that we know who this Wheatley nut is, but not where he is," Coughlin said.

"Which means you've been thinking about it," Lowenstein said. "Go on, Denny."

"Worst case scenario," Coughlin said. "Despite one hell of an effort by everybody concerned to find this guy, and the only way I know to do that is by running down any and every lead we come across, ringing every other doorbell in the city, we don't find him. The odds are that Washingtonwill turn up something at the bank, or from his neighbors. But let's say that doesn't happen."

"Worst case scenario, right?" Lowenstein said sarcastically.

Coughlin's face darkened, but he decided to let the sarcasm pass.

"When Peter said we have to catch Wheatley before he hurts somebody," he went on, "he wasn't talking about just the Vice President. This guy has the means, and I think is just crazy enough, to hurt a lot of people. You heard what Charley said his expert said, that he's probably going to set off his bomb,bombs, by radio?"

Both Wohl and Lowenstein nodded.

"That means he could be walking up Market Street with his bomb under his arm andhis radio in Camden, and somebody turns on a shortwave radio, maybe in an RPC, and off the bomb goes."

"I don't know what we can do about that," Lowenstein said.

"Or he could be walking up Market Street with his bomb under one arm, and his radio under the other, and he spots somebody who looks like the Secret Service, or the FBI, and he pushes the button."

"I don't know where you're going, Denny," Lowenstein confessed.

"Well, I said, 'Market Street' but I don't think he's going to try to set his bomb off on Market Street. He may be a nut, but he's smart. And I don't think he plans to commit suicide when he- what did he say,'disintegrates '?-the Vice President. That means he has to put the bomb someplace where he can see it, and the Vice President, from someplace he'll be safe when it goes off."

"Okay," Lowenstein said after a moment.

"There aren't very many places he can do that on Market Street," Coughlin went on. "The only place you could hide a bomb would be, for example, an empty store or a trash can or a mailbox."

"The Post Office will send somebody to open all mailboxes an hour before the Vice President arrives," Wohl replied. "Then they'll chain them shut. Larkin set that up with the postal inspectors. And I, actually Jack Malone, arranged with the City to have every trash basket, et cetera, in which a bomb could be hidden, removed by nine A.M., two hours before the Vice President gets here. And we'll check the stores, empty and otherwise."

"I don't think he's thinking about Market Street anyway," Coughlin said. "He'd have only a second or two to set the bomb off. That's not much margin for error." He paused. "But I damned sure could be wrong. So we're going to have to have Market Street covered from the river to 30^th Street Station."

"Which leaves Independence Square and 30^th Street Station," Wohl said. "I don't think Independence Square. He knows that we're going to have people all over there, and that he will have a hard time getting close to the Vice President, close enough to hurt him with a bomb."

"That presumes Denny's right about him not wanting to commit suicide," Lowenstein said. "Maybe he likes the idea of being a martyr."

"I think we can let the Secret Service handle somebody rushing up to the Vice President," Coughlin said. "They're very good at that. I keep getting back to 30^th Street Station."

"Okay. But tell me why?"

"Well, we can't close it off, for one thing. Trains are going to arrive and depart. They will be carrying people, and many, if not most, of those people will be carrying some kind of luggage, either a briefcase, if they're commuters, or suitcases. Are we going to stop everybody and search their luggage?"

"I don't suppose there's any chance, now that we know this guy is for real, that the Vice President can be talked out of this goddamned motorcade?" Lowenstein asked.

"None," Coughlin said. "I was there when Larkin called Washington."

Lowenstein shrugged and struck a wooden match and relit his cigar.

"We're listening, Denny," he said.

"And there's a lot of places in 30^th Street Station to hide a bomb, half a dozen bombs," Coughlin went on. "Places our guy can see from half a dozen places he'd be hard to spot. You follow?"

"Not only do I follow, but I have been wondering if you think Larkin doesn't know all this."

"Larkin knows. We've talked."

"Ahha! And I'll bet that you're about to tell us what you and the Secret Service have come up with, aren't you?"

"WhatI came up with, Matt," Coughlin said. "And what Larkin is willing to go along with."

"Inspector Wohl," Lowenstein said, "why do you think I think the genial Irishman here has just been sold the toll concession on the Benjamin Franklin Bridge?"

"Goddammit, do you always have to be such a cynical sonofabitch? You can be a real pain in the ass, Matt!" the genial Irishman flared. "Thereare some good feds, and Charley Larkin happens to be one of them. If you're too dumb to see that, I'm sorry."

"If I have in any way offended you, Chief Coughlin, please accept my most profound apologies," Lowenstein said innocently. "Please proceed."

"Goddammit, you won't quit, will you?"

They glared at each other for a moment.

Finally, Lowenstein said, "Okay. Sorry, Denny. Let's hear it."

"We are going to have police officers every twenty feet all along the motorcade route, and every ten feet, every five feet, in 30^th Street Station and at Independence Hall."

Lowenstein looked at him with incredulity on his face, and then in his voice: "That's it? That's the brilliant plan you and the Secret Service came up with?"

"You have a better idea?"

"How many men is it going to take if we saturate that large an area for what, four hours?" Lowenstein asked.

"We figure six hours," Coughlin said.

"Has Charley Larkin offered to come up with the money to pay for all that overtime?" Lowenstein asked. "Or are we going to move cops in from all over the city, and pray that nothing happens elsewhere?"

"We are going to bring in every uniform in Special Operations," Coughlin began, and then stopped. "This is the idea, Peter. Subject, of course, to your approval."

I know, Wohl thought, and he knows I know, that me arguing against this would be like me telling the pope he's wrong about the Virgin Mary.

"Go on, please, Chief," Wohl said.

'That's the whole idea of Special Operations, the federal grants we got for it," Coughlin said. "To have police force available anywhere in the city…"

"There's not that many people in Special Operations to put one every ten feet up and down Market Street," Lowenstein said. "The feds pay the bills, and then they tell us what to do, right?" Lowenstein said. "I was against those goddamn grants from the beginning."

On the other hand, Wohl thought, we have the grants all the time, and they don't ask for our help all the time.

"There will be men available from the districts, and I thought the Detective Bureau would make detectives available."

Lowenstein grunted.

"Plus undercover officers, primarily from Narcotics, but from anyplace else we can find them," Coughlin went on.

He looked at Lowenstein for his reply. Lowenstein grunted, and then looked at Wohl.

"Peter?"

"I don't have a better idea," Wohl said.

"Neither do I," Lowenstein said. "Okay. Next question. Do you think the commissioner will go along with this?"

"The commissioner, I think, is going to hide under his desk until this is all over," Coughlin said. "If we catch this guy, or at least keep him from disintegrating the Vice President, he will hold a press conference to modestly announce how pleased he is his plan worked. If the Vice President is disintegrated, it's Peter's fault. He was never in favor of Special Operations in the first place."