Allan Stein by Matthew Stadler Read Free Book Online

swiftly moving boy but was distracted by his bladder.
    I turned toward Herbert. "Herbert? The Grand Marble Bar? We seem to be out of wine in any case, and I'm sure Hank is sick of this dreary emporium."
    "I'll join you two in a sec," Hank offered, rising. "Gotta go to the pisser." We waved a feathery good-bye, and Herbert glared at me.
    "Are you mad about something?" I asked. Dogan, fragmented, drifting, afflicted my periphery.
    "Where do you come up with these fantasies?"
    "With what?"
    "You certainly improvised well. I just can't believe Hank swallowed all that garbage, flights to Paris to hobnob with the rich."
    "Come on, you'll have a great time."
    "Look, Miss Double-oh-seven, the sort of espionage you described has nothing to do with art acquisition. One buys drawings at galleries. You know, like at a store?"
    "You made these sound like the Dead Sea Scrolls."
    "Did I? Well they might be worth a small fortune, but I'm afraid the chances of their being at all important are remote to none. I was just fishing around to see how far Hank was willing to go with that checkbook of his."

    "Do you always rely on swindling the rich?"
    "I wouldn't say 'rely.' I'd say I 'delight' in it."
    "Well, Hank's willing to go to Paris."
    "Going to Paris on this kind of wild goose chase—with Hank, no less—would be sheer torture."
    "It looks like you're either going or backing out."
    "I can back out easily enough. Hank won't mind. I would just appreciate it, Madame Assistant, if you would leave the whole affair alone for a while, the rest of the evening at least, and let things settle."
    In the bar, the Grand Marble Bar (massive countertop hauled from Firenze, installed on broad cedar stumps with a rough fir trim, brass fixtures from Berlin—spoils of the last World War—all this from the napkin supplied with my drink), we found Hank, and voila! Dogan, without his mom or dad. The pair was installed at a small round side table with two beers, Dogan's in a tall pewter stein (Hank's largesse, no doubt, plus a nimble bribe of the waiter). The boy watched me.
    "Look what the cat dragged in," Hank announced. "Doogie's here." I smiled at "Doogie" and Herbert shook his hand, introducing himself as my new colleague. Sweet Herbert.
    Dogan sipped from the beer, leaving a mustache where no mustache could be. "I saw you eating."
    "Yes, that was me. Hello, by the way."
    "Hi. My mom and dad left."
    "I saw you shopping."
    "Yeah, Mom got her wig and they both had headaches."
    "Well, long time."
    "I guess so; I mean, a month."
    "A month's a long time, though you must be busy with studying and sports and all, so it wouldn't seem so long to you."
    "Doogie tells me the soccer squad has made it to the playoffs this year," Hank put in, hoisting his beer. Herbert, utterly bored by the soccer squad, ordered himself an expensive scotch (Day-Glo money) and a Bombay for me.
    "Oh?" I was surprised. "That's terrific. It's hard for me to keep track, you know with all my work at the museum." Meaningful glance at Dogan, met, puzzled, returned. "I'll probably be seeing them on TV before long." The round table was minuscule, built for crowding onto the tiny sidewalk of a Parisian back street, and we were rather large. Getting anywhere near the drinks meant navigating an intimate slalom of knees and chair legs; I paid no mind to the press of Dogan (left thigh and calf) and Herbert (right knee).
    "There was a picture in the newspaper," Dogan announced, grimacing at the beer stein as he sniffed it and took a sip. "But I wasn't in it."
    "Hardly worth clipping."
    "Are you gonna be in the yearbook?" my little waif asked.
    "You know"—Hank leaned in, disturbing almost everything—"I don't know if you're on the yearbook squad or anything, Doogie, but I recall in fifty-three, my senior year, when Professor Schmatza—you're a senior, right?"
    "Sophomore."
    "That's right. Well, when Professor Schmatza left our school midyear to join the Lucy expedition, the kids got together and