The shrimp, not the hand. The hand lifted and Lewis Broder landed in the seat beside me. He smelled of alcohol and tobacco and he was breathing both into my face with every angry exhalation. The look on his face would have frightened babies. I considered running away. I already knew I wasn't interested in what he had to say and that whatever it was, it wasn't going to please me. I could tell all that from the way he'd thumped me upon arrival. But running away, even when I should, is not my style. "You just couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you?" were the first words out of his mouth as he slapped a palm on the table. "What are you trying to do, ruin my life?" "This is something you want the whole table to hear?" I asked, moving my chair farther away. "It doesn't make a damned bit of difference now," he said. "Now that you've gone and blabbed to the police." People at other tables had turned and were staring at us curiously. The last thing we wanted right now was another commotion. "I will not discuss this here, Lewis," I said.
