“I’m going to have an American omelet,” old George said. “The one with ham and cheese in it.”
“A Western omelet,” Tibor said.
“Say what you want,” old George said. “I didn’t try to pick a wife for Stepan, and he did fine on his own. And I called him Steve as soon as he wanted me to.”
“All my teachers in school used to call me Gregory,” Gregor said. “It used to drive me crazy. It happened in the Bureau, too. Is Linda actually around here anywhere?”
Gregor turned around and looked across the restaurant. It was slowly beginning to fill up. Almost nobody on the street cooked anymore, unless they were having a party or family was coming. Lida Arkmanian was sitting with Hannah Krekorian and Sheila Kashinian. Lida and Sheila had on their chinchilla coats—end of summer, muggy hot weather be damned.
The doors to the back opened then, and Linda Melajian came in, carrying the coffeepot in one hand. She breezed by at least four tables that wanted her attention and came over to them, flipping the coffee cups upright with her free hand.
“George will have a Western omelet, and Bennis is eating with Donna, so Gregor will have scrambled eggs with bacon and sausages and hash browns, plus buttered toast and nine-one-one on speed dial,” she said. “How am I doing?”
“Perfectly,” Gregor said. “But Bennis is going to be here, even if it’s at another table, so maybe I ought to tone it down a little.”
“Do what you want,” Linda said. “But Bennis is picking Donna up at Donna’s, and you know what that’s going to be like. They won’t be here for an hour. I’m supposed to tell you that hardwood floors are better in the master bedroom than a carpet is, and you can always buy an Oriental rug.”
“Bennis told you to talk to me about hardwood floors in the master bedroom?” Gregor said.
“No,” Linda said, “Lida did. She was talking to Bennis about it yesterday, I think. Really, Gregor, I don’t see the point. Do you? I mean, there isn’t really a master bedroom in that place, not like there would be in a modern house, with a bathroom and walk-in closets—”
“There will be by the time Bennis gets through with it,” old George said.
“You know what I mean,” Linda said. “Let me go get you your food and find out what everybody else wants. There was some guy in here at opening, he was standing right outside the door when I came to unlock it. Anyway, he’s looking for Gregor.”
“Is he here now?” Gregor asked.
“Nope,” Linda said. “He said he’d be back later. I’ve got no idea where he went. There isn’t anything open around here at a quarter to six in the morning, and it’s not like he could go home. I saw his car. It had New York plates.”
“That will be your appointment,” old George said. “Bennis said he was from New York.”
“He’s also not supposed to be here until eight,” Gregor said.
“Whatever,” Linda said. “He’s probably around somewhere, wandering into bad neighborhoods and getting mugged. Not that he’s the kind of person you’d think would get mugged. He’s absolutely enormous. Taller than Gregor even. And he’s fat. I don’t know. Maybe they’d mug a fat guy. They don’t usually like tall, though.”
“‘They’ is muggers?” Gregor asked.
“Exactly,” Linda said. “But there’s the fat, and then there’s the—I don’t know. Aura. He was the most nervous person I’ve ever seen. He practically jumped out of his skin when I came up behind him. And he had a briefcase. One of the old-fashioned floppy kinds with straps that you buckle like a belt.”
“This is supposed to make him more likely to be mugged?” Father Tibor said. “You’re not making any sense.”
“I didn’t say I was making any sense,” Linda said. “I was just telling you what I saw. Anyway, I put a RESERVED sign on one of the bigger tables against the wall. Anybody with a briefcase as big as that is going to have to have some room to spread out. I’ll go get everybody’s food. Have the sausages, Gregor. Bennis won’t be here anytime soon. Maybe I’ll accidentally hit Sheila Kashinian on the head with the coffeepot when I get there. Honestly, if that woman wants to know the calories of anything else ever again, I’m going to slit her throat.”
“She’s waving at you,” Gregor pointed out.
“She waves at me every twenty seconds,” Linda said. Then she straightened up a little. “There he is. The guy from this morning. He’s just coming through the door.”