“Something to eat.”

“We don’t serve no food. Private club.”

“I was here earlier. Had a good dinner. Was looking for some kind of supper.”

The man was shaking his head. “No food. Lunch only. Private,” he said. “Private facility.”

“All I’m looking for. Is a sandwich or something. I know you got something to eat back there somewhere.” Then for the first time took his eyes from the man and panned the room. He said, “Or maybe even a little something else. Something else to fill me up.” And grinned.

The man frowned at him. Lifted one hand and wiped it over the top of his head, smoothing the oiled-down hair or wiping away sweat. At the same time he did this two men at a nearby table stood, both in suits with chains and fobs spread over their stomachs. The only men besides Jamie in the room not dressed in rough workclothes tattered over with granite dust, the only men with eyes not brilliant red from the same dust. They stepped up to one side of the proprietor. Who spoke once more. “I told you. No food. So. Time you go.”

The two men stepped forward and one caught Jamie by the shoulder harder than he’d expected and spun him and then the four hands came over him and lifted him by the arms and thighs, their grips deep into his muscles. The pain was near euphoric in intensity. They carried him forward. The doorman held open the door. They carried him just to the door and then threw him up and forward. While still in the air he tensed himself and landed upright, swayed and caught his balance. Someone on the sidewalk clapped. He turned. The door was shut. The man in the derby hat stood outside watching him. When Jamie turned the man grinned at him, the thin cigar still clamped between his teeth. Jamie set his clothes back right upon him and approached the man.

“You little fucker,” he said. “You’ll see more of me.”

The man reached and took the cigar from his mouth, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. He made an odd dipping salute with it, the red end describing an arc in the night. Then bit back down on the cigar and sat as before, his arms around his knees, gazing out down the street away from Jamie.