Norma Lavin got no stares at all. Young and old, the customers looked coldly right through her. The Ay-rabs blamed women like her for the disconcerting way their own women were changing under their very eyes.
Hussein himself came over. “Always a pleasure, Mr. Ur-munn,” he beamed. “What will you have?”
“Coffee, please,” Mundin said. Don Lavin shook his head absently. Norma said nothing.
“Majun for the lady?” Hussein asked blandly. “Fresh from Mexico this week. Very strong. Peppermint, raspberry, grape?”
Norma Lavin icily said, “No.” Hussein went away beaming. He had delivered a complicated triple insult—by calling her a lady, offering her a narcotic and, at that, a narcotic traditionally beloved by Islamic ladies denied the consolation of love by ugliness or age.
Mundin masked bis nervousness by studying his watch. “We have about ten minutes,” he said. “If you can give me an idea of what you have in mind——”
Somebody coming down the aisle stumbled over Don Lavin’s foot.
“I beg your pardon,” Lavin said dreamily.
“What’s the idea of tripping me?” asked a bored voice. It was a cop—a big man with an intelligent, humorous face.
“It was an accident, officer,” Mundin said.
“Here we go again,” Norma Lavin muttered.
“I was talking to this gentleman, I believe,” the cop said. Be asked Don Lavin again, “I said, what’s the idea of tripping
•e? You a cop-hater or something?”
i Tm really very sorry,” Lavin said. “Please accept my
•pology.”
“He won’t,” Norma Lavin said to Mundin, aside.
“Officer,” Mundin said sharply, “it was an accident. I’m Charles Mundin. Former candidate for the Council in the 27th, Regular Republican. I’ll vouch for this gentleman.”
“Yes, your Honor,” the cop said, absently saluting. He turned to Lavin. “Suppose we show some identification, cop-hater.”
Lavin took out a wallet and spilled cards on the table. The cop inspected them and muttered: “Dreadful. Dreadful. Social Security account card says you’re Donald W. Lavin, but Selective Service registration says you’re Don Lavin, no middle > initial. And I see your draft registration is with an Omaha board but you have a resident’s parking permit for Coshocton, Ohio. Tell me, did you ever notify Omaha that you’re a resident of Coshocton?”
“Of course he did,” Mundin said quickly.
Lavin said dreamily. “I’m extremely sorry, officer. I didn’t. I registered in Omaha because I happened to be passing through on’my eighteenth birthday. I simply never got around to changing.”
The cop decisively scooped up the cards and said, “You’d better come along with rae, Lavin. Your career of crime has gone far enough. It’s a lucky thing I tripped over you.”
Mundin noted that he had dropped the pretense of having been tripped. “Officer,” he said, “I’m taking your shield number. I’m going to tell my very good friend Del Dworcas about this nonsense. Shortly after that, you’ll find yourself on foot patrol in Belly Rave—the two-to-ten shift. Unless you care to apologize and get the hell out of here.”
The officer grinned and shrugged. “What can I do?” he asked helplessly. “I’m a regular Javert. When I see the law broken, my blood boils. Come along, Dangerous Don.”
Lavin smiled meagerly at his sister, who sat with a thundercloud scowl on her brow, and went along.
Mundin’s voice was shaking with anger. “Don’t worry,” he told Norma Lavin. “I’ll have him out of the station house right after the meeting. And that cop is going to wish he hadn’t been born.”
“Never mind. I’ll get him out,” she said. “Five times in three weeks. I’m used lo it.”
“What’s the angle?” Mundin exploded.
Hussein came up with coffee in little cups. “Nice fella, that Jimmy Lyons,” he said chattily. “For cop, that is.”
“Who is he?” Mundin snapped.
“Precinct captain’s man. Very good to know. The uniform is just patrolman, but when you talk to Jimmy Lyons you talk right into the precinct captain’s ear. If you pay shakedown and two days later other cop comes around for more shakedown, you tell Jimmy Lyons. The cop gets transferred to Belly Rave. Maybe worse. You know,” Hussein grinned’ confidentially, “before I come to America everybody tells me how different from Iraq. But once here—not so different.”