She stared at him in disbelief.
“I’ve eaten here two or three times a week for the past few years. Tuesday night I brought Lara here. Some of her power or magic dust or whatever you want to call it rubbed off. Were you here for dinner? What time?”
Fanny nodded. “About eight.”
“That was when we were here. The store closes at six, and it takes me about an hour to get home on the bus. I came home, showered, and changed clothes. My apartment’s a block and a half that way.” He pointed. “I think if I leave here without you, I might be able to spend the night in my own bed. Maybe even if I leave with you.”
“Then you’ll have to put me up.”
“Sure.”
“Because I’m not leaving you. You’re bait for North, and getting him means a promotion, probably two grades —Detective Lieutenant Lindy. It might also mean the survival of the human race, although that’s strictly secondary.”
“All right,” he said.
“You’re willing to help me?”
“Yes, if you’re willing to help me. If I go home, that’s the life I had before I met Lara. She may visit my world, but this is where she comes from. This is where she lives, so this is where I’ll find her, if I find her at all.”
The waitress halted at their table. “Don’t care for your soup, ma’am?”
Fanny shook her head. “I let it get cold, but that’s all right. Take it away.”
When the waitress left, he said, “This is where I belong too, because Lara’s here.”
“Since you’re going to help me and we’re sharing info, the future detective lieutenant will share some of hers: your Lara is Laura Nomos.”
“I know.”
Fanny looked surprised. “I didn’t, not for sure. Or not till a minute ago, when you were up at the cash register. How could you be sure? And what were you doing there anyway?”
“I saw her in the theater, just like you did. And it was Lara—I told you about Mr. Kolecke. In your room you said she was Laura Nomos, so the names aren’t just a coincidence.”
“Well, I thought you were wrong, that Klamm’s stepdaughter couldn’t possibly be ducking in and out of the Visiting World as if she were the goddess. But like you say, I saw her. And that Italian woman said she saw your Lara last night, dressed the way Nomos was in the theater, so that was confirmation. You’re not crazy or nearsighted. Your Lara’s Laura Nomos.”
He nodded.
Fanny shuddered. “And if you’re not crazy, you might be right about this restaurant, and I ought to be scared to death. This is your world?”
“I think so. North calls it C-One.” He showed her the money and told her what had happened. “Do you have any large bills?”
“A twenty. That’s the biggest.”
“That should do,” he said. “I want you to take it to the register and ask for two tens. Take whatever he gives you and bring it back here.”
Home Again
The waitress had brought Fanny’s salad and his fettuccine, with the tea and coffee, while Fanny was at the register. When she returned she asked, “Aren’t you hungry?”
“I’m starved,” he said, “but first I want to see what you got.”
“Two perfectly ordinary ten-dollar bills.” She held them out. “You really are crazy, that’s what I think.”
He shook his head and forked up fettuccine.
“And I asked if you were hungry.”
“I want to think,” he told her, “and I think better when I’m eating.” After another bite he asked, “Would you like a taste? It’s really very good.”
“Just to keep you happy.” She took a forkful, followed by two more. “You didn’t really get those bills you showed me from him, did you?”
He nodded, his mouth full.
“You’re saying that man knows, that he’s manipulating us.”
He swallowed. “I don’t think so. He talked to me about the fight, Joe’s fight.”
“Who’s Joe?”
“A boxer. I met him once. Everybody says what a nice guy he is, and he seemed like one, the one time I talked to him. Do you remember what Mama Capini said about the people Lara brought here?”
Fanny nodded. “The big man and the blonde? Sure.”
“Joe was the big man. Laura Nomos is Eddie Walsh’s lawyer. Eddie is Joe’s manager. All these people belong to your world, but Mama Capini doesn’t.” He sipped his water and went back to the fettuccine. “Joe paid for the dinner, remember? If it had been Lara—Laura Nomos—I would have understood, and maybe Joe used a credit card
