As he nailed the taxi beside me, a patrolman wandered past. He looked at me casually and I took a chance.
“Hey, officer!” I called, moving towards him, “I want some help and your protection.”
He looked puzzled, but his face brightened when he saw the five bucks I was folding carefully. That’s one language all cops understand.
“Sure,” he said. “Any little thing.”
I slipped him the dough. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the copper who had been watching the West wing suddenly show interest in what was going on. He began to move towards me.
I grabbed the patrolman’s arm, “Come in, officer,” I said, leading him into the lobby. “This is a gag. I’ve got a couple of dummies to put in my pal’s bed. I’ve been waiting to get even with him for some time and his wife’s a jealous woman.”
While I was speaking I’d got him up to Lydia and the dummy. I took the dummy and opened up the sheet so that he could see the papier mâché face. “Doesn’t she look like the real thing?” I asked.
He gaped at it. “You’re going to put that in some guy’s bed?” he said, astonished.
“I’m going to do a lot better than that,” I told him, “I’m going to put both of them in a guy’s bed.”
I thought he’d break a blood vessel. I haven’t seen a guy laugh so much in years. All the time he was smacking his leg and bellowing I had to stand by and pretend I enjoyed the joke. But I was losing weight every second wondering if Lydia was coming to the surface and whether if she moved he’d spot her.