Elliot froze an instant. All his doubts about Al returned. Still, his father had trusted him, and he was possibly a Cadre ally. Elliot asked. “He’s in the bookstore now?”
The clerk shook his head. “He don’t ever come in before four.”
“Uh—thanks.” The clerk continued in, and Elliot led Lorimer out.
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“What was that all about?” she asked.
“A man I have to see. My father was using him as a stash.”
Elliot checked his watch; it was one fifty. “We have a bit over two hours. Might as well use the time to good advantage.”
They crossed over to a discount drugstore where Elliot found his hair dye and Lorimer a tube of shampoo. Approaching the cashier, Elliot put the merchandise on the counter with a eurofranc on top. The cashier, a pudgy matron, looked at Elliot like a stem schoolteacher. “Young man, do you know the penalty for offering illegal foreign money? Or accepting it?”
“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”
“Five years in federal prison and a one-hundred-thousanddollar fine.”
“Well, I wouldn’t like the prison term, but the fine sounds like a bargain.”
“Get out of here.”
Elliot reached for his eurofranc. The cashier snatched it away.
“I’m confiscating this for the police,” she said. Elliot shrugged. “Fair enough,” he replied, taking the shampoo and hair dye. “I’m confiscating this merchandise as evidence of violating the federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act of 1938. Good day.”
Elliot took Lorimer’s arm, and they walked calmly out. Lorimer asked, “What was that violation?”
“How should I know? It’s a law we discussed in history. But we’d better get out of here in case she decides to phone the cops.”
“The telephones are out, remember?”
Elliot grinned widely. “Who says we live in an unjust universe?”
After brief discussion, Elliot convinced Lorimer that they should risk one more stop. He explained that it might be their last chance for a while: if the government was again switch- Alongside Night 177
ing over to a new currency, there was the possibility they would close all stores temporarily as they had the previous time. They stepped into a small Forty-second Street clothing shop, Elliot buying two shirts, briefs, socks, and Levis. Lorimer bought another pair of slacks and a turtleneck. There was no difficulty about eurofrancs with the proprietor of this store, an elderly German man who said he was a boy during the Weimar hyperinflation of 1923. Quite the contrary, there was enthusiastic bargaining and a seeming forgetfulness on the man’s part to charge sales tax.
Afterward, to remain off the streets, Elliot and Lorimer slipped into a Forty-second Street movie house (payment by vendies) and watched an action-packed musical drama starring Dharmendra, Lion of the Indian Screen. Dharmendra had evolved, during the past few years, into a cult-film hero. Elliot never found it necessary to use his hair dye. At four fifteen, he and Lorimer entered the Rabelais Bookstore; once more it was without customers. Again Al was on the stool behind the counter. He looked up, seeing Elliot, and exclaimed, “You! But I thought—But how—?”
“Slow down, slow down,” said Elliot. “You seem surprised to see me.”
“Surprised? Kid, you couldn’t’ve flattened me more if you come back from the dead. I thought you’d been busted for sure.”
Al noticed Lorimer for the first time.
“It’s okay,” said Elliot. “She’s with me. But why’d you think I was arrested?”
“That’s what your old man told me, that your old lady, sister, and you—”
Elliot interrupted, shocked and delighted. “My father’s alive?
You’ve seen him? How did he get away from the feds?”
“Eh? I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” said Al. “Your old man was never busted. I just saw him a couple’a hours ago; I been doin’ some legwork for him.”
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“But why didn’t you let the Cadre know?”
“What? But how—”
Elliot twirled his gold ring once forward and once back. Al responded with twice forward and once back on his ring.
“Jesus Christ, I never seen such lousy communications,”
said Al. “Your old man didn’t tell me you were an ally. He just said he wanted his business kept private so I didn’t tell them anything.”
“He didn’t know,” said Elliot, “because I’m a brand-new ally. But never mind that now. Where’s my father?”
“He’s been hidin’ out at the New York Hilton all week.”