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' The cop opened the door. "This way." They came, to a dingy room. There was
an embarrasing process of holding your hands over your head while someone ran
his hands over you; you couldn't blame them for searching you, Norvell told
himself, there must be plenty of times they had desperate criminals here.
There was a curiously interesting process of inking the fingers and rolling
them across a piece of paper. There was a mildly painful process of looking
into what seemed to be a binocular microscope; a light flashed, photographing
the retina of his eyes, and
Norvell had a little trouble seeing for some time afterward.
While Norvell was blinking at the halo in his field of vision the cop said
something. Norvell said, "What?"
"I said do you want to call your lawyer?"
Norvell shook his head automatically. Then he remembered: He had a lawyer.
"Why, yes," he said. He found Mundin's phone number in the book with some
difficulty; it was after hours, but he was lucky enough to get an answer
though Mundin himself wasn't there, and the person who answered seemed,
Norvell thought, to be drunk or) something. But he left a message, and then
there was nothing to do but wait. /
Curiously, the waiting was not unpleasant. Even the thought of what Virginia
would say or do about this was not particularly terrifying; what could happen
worse than had already happened?
So he waited. Past six o'clock, past seven; and for a couple of hours more
before he began to worry.
It was almost ten o'clock; if he didn't get out pretty soon, it would be too
late to try to see good old Arnie.
Chapter Nine
"THANK YOU VERY MUCH, Mr. Mundin," Norvell said. He looked back at the
precinct house and shuddered.
Mundin said, "Don't thank me. I just put in a word with Del Dworcas, and he
put in a word with the precinct. Thank him."
Norvell brightened. "Oh, I want to! I've wanted to meet Mr. Dworcas for a long
time. Arnie you know his brother Arnie is a very close friend of mine has told
me so much about him."
Mundin shrugged. "Come on, then," he said. "I'm going to the Hall anyhow."
It was only a short walk to the Hall, and the rain discouraged conversation.
Mundin stalked sourly ahead of his client, his mind on G.M.L. Homes. The hope
kept hammering at his good sense: Maybe he could pull it off maybe. . . .
Norvell followed contentedly enough. Every thing was being ordered for him; he
was out of a job,
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r-at-Law%20v1.0.txt he had been in jail, he was hours and hours late for
Virginia without a word of explanation but none of it had been bis own
decision.
Decisions would come later. That would be the hard part.
Norvell stared around the Hall curiously. It wasn't as impressive as one might
expect though maybe, he thought, you had to admire the Regular Republicans for
then- common touch. There was certainly nothing showy about Republican Hall.
Norvell stopped, politely out of earshot, as Mundin spoke to a dark,
sharp-featured man in shirtsleeves. Some kind of janitor, he guessed; he was
astonished when Mundin called him over and introduced him to Del Dworcas.
Norvell said with a certain pride, "I'm really delighted to meet you, Mr.
Dworcas. Your brother, Arnie, is very proud of you; we're very good friends."
Dworcas studied hirn thoughtfully. He asked irrelevantly, "Live around here?"
"Oh, no. Quite some distance away, but " Dworcas seemed to lose interest.
"Glad to meet you," he said, turning away. "You want to see Arnie, he's in
Hussein's across the street. Now, Charles, what was it you wanted to see me
about?"
Norvell was left standing with his hand extended. He blinked a little,
but after all, he reminded himself, Mr. Dworcas was a busy man. And
Arnie lucky day! was in some place called Hussein's across the street.
On the way downstairs he caught a glimpse of the tune. After eleven!
Might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb, he told himself recklessly.
He turned his coat collar up and plunged out into the rain, almost into the
arms of a policeman escorting a scrawny young girl into the Hall. His heart
pounded, but the policeman paid him no attention; he crossed the street to the
coffee shop.
Arnie was at a table by himself, reading. He looked up as Norvell came close,
and hastily put the magazine away. He said nothing, except with his
incredulous eyes.
Norvell slipped into a vacant seat, smiling at his little joke on Arnie.
"Surprised to see me?"
Arnie frowned. "What are you doing here?" Norvell lost his smile. "Can can I
have some coffee, Arnie?" he asked. "I came out without any money." Arnie
looked mildly outraged, but beckoned the grinning waiter.
Then Norvell told him about the jail, and Mundin, and Del Dworcas. Arnie took
it in without emotion until Norvell stopped for breath, when Arnie permitted
himself a smile.
"You've had a busy day," he said humorously! "I'm glad you met Del, though;
he's a prince.
Incidentally/ I've taken the liberty of asking a couple of his associate^ to
the Field Day. So when you get the tickets "
Norvell licked his lips. "Arnie "
"When you get the tickets, will you get three extras?"
Norvell shook his head. "Arnie, listen to me. I can't get the tickets."
Arnie's chin went up. "You what?" "I got fired today. That's why I didn't have
any money." There was a pause. Dworcas began looking through his pockets for a
cigarette. He found the pack and put it absently on the table in front of him
without lighting one. He said nothing.
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