Dworcas said tentatively, “You must be proud to be working for Mr. Mundin. Of course you know his record with our Party in the 27th—right down the line for Arab rights.”
“That’s nice,” the guide said. “Right in here, mister.” He guided Dworcas into a bay; it lit up with a shimmering violet light; the guide scanned a fluoroscope screen. “You’re clean,” he said. “In that door.”
“You searched mel” Dworcas gasped. “Me! Mr. Mundin’s oldest friend!”
“That’s nice,” the Ay-rab said. “In that door.”
Dworcas went through the door.
“Hello, Del,” Mundin said abstractedly. “What do you want?” He was checking off items on a list; he said, “Excuse me,” and picked up an interoffice phone. Five minutes later he put it down, glanced at Dworcas, and turned to another list.
Dworcas, in ‘cello tones, said, “Charlee. . . .”
And waited.
Mundin looked at him, with annoyance on his face. “Well?”
Dworcas waved a finger at him, smiling. “Charlie, you’re not treating me right,” he said. “You really aren’t”
“Oh, the hell I’m not,” said Mundin tiredly. “Look, Del. Business has picked up. I’m busy. What do you want?”
Dworcas said, “Nice office you’ve got G.M.L. fix it for you?”
“What do you think?”
Dworcas retained his smile. “Remember who got you in with G.M.L.?”
“Oh, hell, you’ve got a point,” Mundin conceded unwillingly. “It isn’t going to do you much good, though. I haven’t got time for favors. Some other time I’ll listen closer.”
“I want you to listen now, Charlie. I want to retain you for the County Committee.”
Mundin stared. “Work for the County Committee?”
“I know it sounds like small potatoes. But it can lead to big ones, Charlie. You can make something out of it. And what about us, Charlie? You owe me—the Party—all of us something for putting you on to the Lavins. Is this the time to let us down? I’m not too proud to beg if I have to. Stick with the Party, boyl”
It wasn’t going over. “Sorry, Del,” Mundin said.
“Charlie!”
Mundin looked exasperated. “Del, you old crook,” he said, “just what are you up to now? I’ve got nothing to sell you —even if you could outbid my other clients. Which you can’t.”
Dworcas leaned forward, his face completely changed. “I underestimated you, Charlie,” he admitted. “I’ll tell you the God’s truth. No, haven’t anything to sell, right now. But— something’s on the fire. I smell it, Charlie. I never miss on something like this. I feel it through the soles of my feet.”
He had Mundin’s full attention now. “What do you feel?”
Dworcas shrugged. “Little things. Jimmy Lyons, for instance. Remember him, the captain’s man at the precinct?”
“Sure.”
“He isn’t, any more. Captain Kowalik transferred him out to Belly Rave. He’s been knifed twice. Why? I don’t know why, Charlie. Jimmy was a bastard, sure; he had it coming to him. But why did it happen? And what’s happening to Kowalik? He’s losing weight. He can’t sleep nights. I asked him why, and he wouldn’t tell me. So I asked somebody else, and I found out. Kowalik’s trouble is that Commissioner Sabbatino doesn’t talk to him any more.”
“And what’s the matter with Sabbatino?” Mundin was playing with a pencil.
“Don’t kid me, Charlie. Sabbatino’s trouble is a man named Wheeler, who had a long, long talk with him one day. I don’t
know what about. But I know something, Charlie. I know Wheeler works for Hubble, and Bubble is one of your clients.”
Mundin put the pencil down. “So what else is new?” he asked.
“Don’t joke, Charlie. I never used to kid you—well, I mean, not much, you know. Don’t you kid me. The folks hi the 27th are all upset. There’s a crazy rumor they’re all going to be moved into G.M.L. Homes. They don’t like the idea, the old folks don’t. Some of the young folks do, so there’s family fights. Every day, all day, all night, yelling and screaming, sometimes knives. A dozen riot calls a day in the 27th. So I asked my brother Arnie, the mechanic with G.M.L. You met him, you know what a fathead he is. But even he feels something in the organization. What?”