He glanced at me and muttered something under his breath. “I’m talking about what you’re gonna use to save me from the bad guys,” he said. Then he looked my way again.

Under my sport coat I was wearing my seizure gun. I took it out of the holster and showed him. “Got this last year from Lieutenant Okking,” I said.

Shaknahyi chewed his gum for a few seconds. “The lieutenant was always all right to me,” he said. His eyes slid sideways again.

“Yeah, well,” I said. I couldn’t think of anything terribly meaningful to add. I’d been responsible for Okking’s death, and I knew that Shaknahyi knew it. That was something else I’d have to overcome if we were going to accomplish anything together. There was silence in the car for a little while after that.

“Look, that weapon of yours ain’t much good except for maybe stunning mice and birds up close. Take a look on the floor.”

I reached under my seat and pulled out a small arsenal. There was a large seizure cannon, a static pistol, and a needle gun that looked like its flechettes could strip the meat from the bones of an adult rhinoceros. “What do you suggest?” I asked.

“How do you feel about splashing blood all over everything?”

“Had enough of that last year,” I said.

“Then forget the needle gun, though it’s a dandy side arm. It alternates three sedative barbs, three iced with nerve toxin, and three explosive darts. The seizure cannon may be too hefty for you too. It’s got four times the power of your little sizzlegun. It’ll stop anybody you aim at up to a quarter of a mile away, but it’ll kill a mark inside a hundred yards. Maybe you ought to go with the static gun.”

I stuffed the needle gun and the seizure cannon back under the seat and looked at the static gun. “What kind of damage will this do?”

Shaknahyi shrugged. “Hit ’em in the head with that two or three times and you’ve crippled ’em for life. The head’s a small target, though. Get ’em in the chest and it’s Heart Attack City. Anywhere else, they can’t control their muscles. They’re helpless for half an hour. That’s what you want.”

I nodded and tucked the static gun into my coat pocket. “You don’t think I’ll—” My telephone began warbling, and I undipped it from my belt. I figured it was one of my other problems checking in. “Hello?” I said.

“Marid? This is Indihar.”

It seemed like they just weren’t making good news anymore. I closed my eyes. “Yeah, how you doing? What’s up?”

“You know what time it is? You own a club now, Maghrebi. You got a responsibility to the girls on the day shift. You want to get down here and open up?”

I hadn’t given the club a goddamn thought. It was something I really didn’t want to worry about, but Indihar was right about my responsibility. “I’ll get there as soon as I can. Everybody show up today?”

“I’m here, Pualani’s here, Janelle quit, I don’t know where Kandy is, and Yasmin’s here looking for a job.”

Now Yasmin too. Jeez. “See you in a few minutes.”

“Inshallah, Marid.”

“Yeah.” I clipped the phone back on my belt.

“Where you got to go now? We don’t have time for no personal errands.”

I tried to explain. “Friedlander Bey thought he was doing me this big favor, and he bought me my own club in the Budayeen. I don’t know a damn thing about running a club. Forgot all about it until now. I got to pass by there and open the place.”

Shaknahyi laughed. “Beware of two-hundred-year-old kingpins bearing gifts,” he said. “Where’s this club?”

“On the Street,” I said. “Chiriga’s place. You know which one I mean?”

He turned and studied me for a moment without saying anything. Then he said, “Yeah, I know which one you mean.” He swung the patrol car around and headed for the Budayeen.

You might think it’d be a kick to zip through the eastern gate in an official car, and drive up the Street when other vehicular traffic is forbidden. My reaction was just the opposite. I scrunched myself down in the seat, hoping no one I knew would see me. I’d hated cops all my life and now I was one; already my former friends were giving me the same treatment I used to give Hajjar and the other police around the Budayeen. I was grateful that Shaknahyi had the sense not to turn on the siren.

Shaknahyi dropped the car right in front of Chiriga’s club, and I saw Indihar standing on the sidewalk with Pualani and Yasmin. I was unhappy to see that Yasmin had cut her long, beautiful black hair, which I’d always loved. Maybe since we’d broken up, she felt she had to change things. I took a deep breath, opened the door, and got out. “How y’all doing?” I said.

Indihar glowered at me. “We lost about an hour’s tips already,” she said.

“You gonna run this club or not, Marid?” said Pualani. “I can go work by Jo-Mama’s real easy.”

“Frenchy’d take me back in a Marrakesh minute,” said Yasmin. Her expression was cold and distant. Riding around in copcars wasn’t improving my status with her at all.

“Don’t worry,” I said, “I just had a lot on my mind this morning. Indihar, could I hire you to manage the place for me? You know more about running the club than I do.”

She stared at me for a few seconds. “Only if you give me a regular schedule,” she said. “I don’t want to have to come in early after staying late on night shift. Chiri made us do that all the time.”

“All right, fine. You got any other ideas, let me know.”

“You’re gonna have to pay me what other managers make too. And I’m only gonna get up and dance if I feel like it.”

I frowned, but she had me in a corner. “That’s okay too. Now, who do you suggest to manage at night?”

Indihar shrugged. “I don’t trust none of those sluts. Talk to Chiri. Hire her back.”

“Hire Chiri? To work in her own club?”

“It’s not her own club anymore,” Yasmin pointed out.

“Yeah, right,” I said. “You think she’d do it?”

Indihar laughed. “She’ll make you pay her three times what any other manager on the Street gets. She’ll give you hell about it too, and she’ll steal you blind out of the register if you give her half a chance. But she’ll still be worth it. Nobody can make money like Chiri. Without her, you’ll be renting this property to some rug merchant inside of six months.”

“You hurt her feelings real bad, Marid,” said Pualani.

“I know, but it wasn’t my fault. Friedlander Bey organized the whole thing without talking to me about it first. He just dropped the club on me as a surprise.”

“Chiri doesn’t know that,” said Yasmin.

I heard a car door slam behind me. I turned and saw Shaknahyi walking toward me, a big grin on his face. All I needed now was to have him join in. He was really enjoying this.

Indihar and the others hated my guts for turning cop, and the cops felt the same way because to them I was still a hustler. The Arabs say, “You take off your clothes, you get cold.” That’s advice against cutting yourself off from your support group. It doesn’t offer any help if your friends show up in a mob and strip you naked against your will.

Shaknahyi didn’t say a word to me. He went up to Indihar, bent, and whispered something in her ear. Well, a lot of the girls on the Street have this fascination with cops. I never understood it, myself. And some of the cops don’t mind taking advantage of the situation. It just surprised me to find out that Indihar was one of those girls, and that Shaknahyi was one of those cops.

It didn’t occur to me to add this to the list of recent unnatural coincidences: My new partner just happened to have a thing going with the new manager of the club Friedlander Bey had just given me.

“Got everything settled here, Audran?” Shaknahyi asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “I got to talk to Chiriga sometime today.”

“Indihar’s right,” said Yasmin. “Chili’s gonna give you a hard time.”

I nodded. “She’s entitled, I guess, but I’m still not looking forward to it.”