Mayor Douglass Windlow arrived at 2 P.M. on Wednesday. Nobile asked if he would join him in a small glass of Amaretto, then sat in an unholstered chair across from the mayor, who sat casually on the leather sofa.

"What is on your mind, Mayor?"

Windlow showed Nobile the blinding smile which was his greatest political asset, sipped the Amaretto and said, "I just thought I should meet you. For a new man in town, you've made a considerable impact already."

"Thank you. I hope to do more."

The mayor put down his glass and fidgeted with one of his gold cufflinks for a moment.

"Rebuilding a city like this is a terribly hard job," he said. "Everything that the urban crisis is going to be all over the nation is already here. Dwindling resources, a shrinking tax base, an impoverished population requiring more and more services with fewer and fewer tax dollars to pay for them. This city is a whole catalog of urban ills." The mayor slid into the phrases easily and smoothly, as befitting one who had learned them through years of giving exactly the same speech.

"Well," Nobile said with a slight smile. "It's not that bad for some."

9

Mayor Windlow looked at him, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Your brother-in-law, for instance," said Nobile, still smiling.

"My brother-in-law?"

"Yes," Nobile said. "The one who is the secret owner of the paving company which does all the city's work." He took a notebook from the side pocket of his smoking jacket and carefully opened it to a page. "Yes. Your wife's brother, Fred."

He looked up at Mayor Windlow and this time Nobile wasn't smiling. Windlow gulped. He started to answer, opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"And of course there are other people in town who make a very good living.