Cuts

by Richard Laymon

Albert tried again, this time stabbing to the right. The blade punched in deep. Jerking and shuddering, Steve sank to his knees.

  Albert grabbed him by the hair, tugged his head back and cut his throat.

  He held him up for a while, letting him bleed out.

  When Steve seemed to be unconsious or dead, Albert eased him down to the floor.

  He stepped over the body, being careful not to slip on the bloody tiles, and flushed the toilet. His robe was bloody. He took it off and wiped the butcher knife on a towel. Then he turned off the bathroom light. He waited, naked and shaking.

  Soon, he heard the quiet thumping of feet. Karen must’ve taken off her shoes.

  He pressed his ear to the door and wondered what else she might’ve taken off. Maybe everything.

  No, that’s not what I want.

  He liked the green dress she’d been wearing Friday night.

  That’s what she oughta be wearing.

  The footsteps stopped. Albert shifted the knife to his left hand and stepped far to the side.

  She knocked on the bathroom door. “You gonna take all night?”

  Albert reached out and knocked twice on the door. Then he crouched.

  Karen opened the door.

  Albert sprang, his shoulder catching her in the belly, driving her backward through the doorway and across the hall. She slammed the wall hard. His fist got her five times in the belly before he let her drop to the floor.

  He moved back and looked down at her.

  She was curled on her side, clutching her belly, loudly sucking air. She still wore the backless green dress.

  All right!

  Reaching down, Albert sliced the strap behind her neck. Then he jerked the dress front down. Karen hugged her loose breasts.

  “Move your arms,” he said, and slashed one.

  She yelped and moved her arms.

  “Fantastic,” Albert said. “God, what knockers. Fantastic, fantastic.”

  Now be careful with this one, he told himself. Don’t get carried away. Make her last.

  He did his best.

  She spent the next five hours tied to her bed with panty hose, a pair of underwear stuffed in her mouth.

  After she died, Albert returned to the bathroom and hauled Tess out of the tub. He put her on the bed with Karen. Then he took a long shower.

  He slept, that night, on the living room couch.

  THIRTY

  THE FIX-UP

  “Now,” Janet said after supper Monday night, “if somebody’ll just oblige me by getting sick, I’ll be in the chips.” She finished drying a plate and picked up another.

  “Colds should start knocking them down pretty soon,” Meg said.

  “I sure hope so.”

  “They can’t escape it. Not a chance. With at least a hundred and fifty students breathing germs on them, they’re sitting ducks. Before you know it, they’ll be dropping like flies.”

  “You’re mixing your metaphors.”

  “There! You already sound like a teacher. Just a matter of time.” Meg rinsed a glass and set it on the drain board.

  “What do you think my chances are of working into a full-time position?”

  “A hell of a lot better than they were,” Meg said. “Thing is, you are now an official employee of the district and they like to hire from within their ranks. Trouble is, not many teachers are leaving. A few years ago, they’d replace maybe seventy or eighty teachers every fall. Last year, it was down to only sixteen.”

  “That’s not very encouraging. And this fork’s not very clean.” She handed back a fork with egg yellow crusted between its tines.

  “You’ve got to know the right people,” Meg explained. “Having a guy like John Lawrence in your corner’s a major step in the right direction. So how did you get along with him this morning?”

  “I don’t know. He seemed very impressed by the fact that you recommended me.”

  “Ah, but of course.”

  “You must carry a lot of weight.”

  “Unfortunately, it’s mostly in my ass.”

  “I wish you’d stop putting yourself down like that. You’re as bad as Mosby.”

  “Does Mosby do that?”

  “All the time. You two could get together and have a regular marathon of self-abuse.” Even before Meg could grin, Janet realized what she’d said.

  “Hell! If he’ll cooperate, we could forget the self-abuse and do it to each other.”

  “I’ll phone him right now,” Janet said.

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Sure! You fixed me up with a job. The least I can do is fix you up with a man.”

  “Oh, no you don’t!”

  “We’ll ask him over for supper tomorrow night so the two of you can get better acquainted.”

  “No. Now really…” She was shaking her head, but smiling.

  “We’ll have your special flank-steak recipe. And French fries. He’ll go berserk. Absolutely berserk, just wait and see. After dinner, I’ll scoot on outta here and you’ll have him all to yourself. He’ll be all over you, I guarantee it.”

  “You’re out of your tree.”

  “Hang on a second. I’ve got his phone number in my purse.” She draped the dish towel over an open drawer and started across the kitchen.

  “Wait,” Meg said. “If you’re serious about going through with this, we’d better make it f or Wednesday. Tomorrow’s too soon. We’ll have to buy the food and I’ll want to get my hair done and…”

  “Wednesday’s fine.”

  Janet went into the living room and found her purse on a chair. Mosby’s phone number was tucked into the wallet. She took it out and returned to the kitchen.

  Meg had turned off the faucet. She was drying her hands and watching Janet. Her face was red. “I don’t know about this,” she said.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “What if he doesn’t like me?”

  “What’s not to like?”

  “My face, for starters. Moving on down from there…”

  “You look fine,” Janet told her.

  “Oh, sure.”

  “But if you don’t want me to call him, I won’t. We can just forget about it.”

  Meg grimaced, showing her pink gums. “Not to mention, he saw me in that nightgown. How embarrassing is that? ”

  “I didn’t hear him complaining. Knowing Mosby, he probably loved it. He’s one very horny guy.”

  Meg snorted. “Get him over here.”

  Janet grinned. “Are you sure?”

  “What’ve I got to lose but my virginity…if that?”

  Janet dialed the number. After a couple of rings, she heard someone pick up.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mosby.” She winked at Meg.

  “Janet?”

  “Yeah. How’ve you been?”

  For a moment, the phone was silent. Then Mosby said, “Okay, and you?”

  “Just fine. Say, Meg and I thought you might like to come over here for supper. How about Wednesday night?”

  “This Wednesday?”

  “Right. Day after tomorrow.”

  “Gee, I don’t know.”

  “What’s not to know?”

  “I’d like to, but…I don’t know, it’s pretty short notice and…”

  “You can get your hair done tomorrow.”

  “What?”

  “Just a little joke, Mose. Hey, are you okay? How come you’re not overwhelming me with your wit and charm?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is something the matter?”

  “No. Everything’s fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “Everything’s hunky-dory. I’m tired, is all. Work was a drag today and I stayed up till about three o’clock last night watching Casablanca.”

  “Did Rick get her this time?”

  “Huh?”

  “He didn’t send her off with Lazlo again, did he?”

  “Yeah. What do you think, it changes?”

  “I
keep hoping.”

  Mosby huffed out a laugh. “You’re nuts.”

  “So, you’ll be coming, won’t you? We’re having steak, French fries and booze. Just the three of us: you, me and Meg.”

  “What time?”

  “What time’s good for you?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “How’s seven?”

  “Fine, but…”

  “See you then?”

  “I don’t know. I shouldn’t, but I guess I will. How can I pass up an invitation like that, huh?”

  “You can’t. It’s impossible. See you Wednesday.”

  “See you.”

  She hung up and turned to Meg. “He’s coming.”

  “Sounded like you had to twist his arm.”

  “Something seemed to be bothering him. He’s probably embarrassed about seeing us again after what happened last time.”

  “Can’t imagine why.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  HOUSE CALL

  The house across the dark lawn looked fine. Nothing special about it. Albert only picked it because it was the smallest one on the block. Probably not more than a couple of bedrooms.

  He didn’t feel much like taking on a crowd tonight.

  Outside the car, he was cold. Especially his bare legs.

  He hurried toward the house.

  All along the street, windows were dark. The chances were good that nobody would see him.

  He climbed steps to the front door. Standing in the shadows, he took the switchblade out of his purse.

  He lifted the hem of his skirt and cut through it. Knife clenched in his teeth, he ripped. The skirt made a dry rasp as it tore upward almost to his hip. He put his leg through the slit. It looked slender and pale gray.

  Because of the darkness, shaving it had probably been a waste of time.

  But fun.

  He’d ended up shaving off all his hair from the neck down, not only to improve his masquerade as a girl, but also because he enjoyed lathering himself with the foam and gliding the razor blade over his skin.

  Life is just full of little pleasures, he thought.

  He jerked open his blouse. Its buttons popped away. Gazing down, he spread the blouse wide open so both cups of his bra showed. The bra was a black, lacy number he’d found in Karen’s dresser.

  It had real breasts inside.

  Karen’s.

  The cauterized areas felt a little funny against Albert’s chest. Sort of crisp and greasy like grilled steaks. But they looked good in the bra. In decent light, you could see her nipples through the lace.

  But in decent light, you could also see the fried edges pressing against his chest.

  Just as well that the porch light was off.

  Holding the knife behind his back, Albert pressed the doorbell button. He pushed it again and again and again very quickly.

  At last, he heard footsteps.

  A man’s voice. “Yeah? Who’s there?”

  “I need help!” Albert gasped. “Please, I just got raped. The man’s still after me! I got away but…Help! Please! Oh, God! Let me in! Please!”

  The guard chain rattled and the door was swung open by a man in pajama bottoms, his hair mussed. He looked half-asleep and confused. “You better get in here,” he said.

  He took a moment to look into the darkness after Albert was inside.

  As he took the moment, Albert stepped in close behind him, clutched his mouth and jammed the knife into his back.

  He now had a house in Denver.

  THIRTY-TWO

  LESTER ALONE

  Another Tuesday night a lone. The bitch.

  Lester needed her like he needed a hole in the head.

  Off to a goddamn school-board meeting, this time.

  So who needs her?

  If she wasn’t off to a meeting or some class at U. C.L. A., she’d just be shut away into the back room hammering away at lesson plans or some such crap.

  The bitch.

  With difficulty, Lester swallowed a final mouthful of refried beans. They were barely warm. He folded the empty aluminum tray into a triangle. He carried it into the kitchen, bounced it off a wall and into the wastebasket. It left a brown smudge on the wall.

  THIRTY-THREE

  FOREWARNED

  Ian dropped the drumstick bone into the Pioneer Chicken box. He continued to read his paperback copy of Crime and Punishment, holding it with one hand while nibbling the gluey crumbs off his thumb. When he finished the chapter, he set down the book, brushed bits of chicken crust off the front of his work shirt, and got up from the couch.

  He carried the box of bones into the kitchen. He stuffed it into the grocery bag he used for a wastebasket, then washed his hands with hot water and soap. As he washed, he considered doing a few of the dishes that cluttered the top of his counter.

  Later.

  For now, he only needed a mug. He found one. It had a puddle of coffee in the bottom. Tan coffee. The mug that Charles had used Friday night.

  Poor guy. Messed up with Helen Bryant.

  What’s the matter with that woman, anyway? Doesn’t she know you don’t fuck your students?

  Half a dozen tiny blue islands of mold were floating in the remains of the coffee.

  Ian rinsed the mug, washed it with a soapy sponge, and poured fresh coffee into it. In the study, he cleared off space for it on his desk.

  Occasionally taking sips of his coffee, he started to read the five pages he had written the night before, making corrections as he went along, changing words with his red pen, several times scratching out entire sentences.

  Then the telephone rang.

  He reached down to the floor, where the phone was resting next to his dictionary.

  “Hello?”

  “Mr. Collins?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Charles. I hope I’m not disturbing you.” The nervous tremor of his voice worried Ian.

  “No, it’s all right. What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I had a date all set up with Helen for tonight. I was supposed to meet her in the parking lot of the May Company, but I stayed home.”

  “That’s one way to end an affair.”

  “Yeah. Well, the thing is, she phoned me from the store. God, she was pissed! Anyway, I guess it sort of slipped out about you.”

  “You guess what slipped out about me?”

  “That you know.”

  “Ah.” He felt a quick squirm of fear in his belly.

  “She wanted your address.”

  “Did you give it to her?”

  “Well, it’s her directory. I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have, but…”

  “It’s fine, Charles. Don’t worry about it. She could’ve gotten my address easily enough, anyway. I suppose she must be planning to pay me a visit.”

  “I guess so. I just called to let you know, warn you.”

  “Thanks, Charles.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  They hung up.

  Ian picked up his mug. It was still half-full. The coffee was still hot, and tasted good. After taking a couple of sips, he put down the mug. He picked up the pages of his novel and tried to resume reading, but his mind was full of Helen. He let the pages flop onto his desk.

  “A brave night to cool a courtezan,” he muttered, and finished his coffee.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THE VISITOR

  Intending to take a shower, Lester was heading for the bathroom when the doorbell rang. His heart lurched. It pounded rapidly as he went to the door. For a moment, he thought about leaving the guard chain hooked until he could see who was there. But that would be embarrassing. He didn’t want to look yellow. So he flipped the chain loose and opened up.

  “Good evening, Lester.”

  “Emily Jean!” He gaped at her.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me in?” she drawled. Her smile tried to look cheerful, but came off self-conscious, uncertain, hopeful.


  “Sure. Come in. Sorry…I’m just so surprised to see you. And glad to see you.”

  She stepped inside and Lester quickly shut the door.

  “How’ve you been?” he asked.

  Weird. Like talking to a stranger.

  She is a stranger, he thought. Almost, anyway.

  “I’ve been just fine,” she said. “And what about yourself?”

  “Well, okay. Not bad, I guess. Would you like a seat? Some coffee? I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee, how about you?”

  “To be quite honest, Lester, I would prefer a kiss.”

  The request stunned him. He wanted to shrink away. He wished to God he had never opened the door, because this was too strange and frightening.

  But he stepped closer to Emily Jean and kissed her on the mouth.

  Weird. Really weird.

  A married man in his own house kissing a woman he hardly knew.

  So why the hell not?

  She’s so old.

  But she wants me!

  From the feel of her breasts against him, Emily Jean wasn’t wearing a bra tonight. Her mouth was fierce. Her arms clutched him tightly, frantically, as if to keep him from escaping.

  He pulled his head back and pushed her gently away. Her eyes looked questioning, hurt.

  “Do I frighten you, Lester?”

  “No, I’m not frightened.”

  “I shouldn’t blame you if you were. Sometimes, you know, I frighten myself.” She laughed nervously. “I’ve given myself a terrible turn, visiting you like this. I’m astonished that I could behave in such an outrageous fashion.”

  “So am I. But I’m glad.”

  “Are you?”

  “Sure,” he said, and knew he didn’t sound very convincing. “I’m just nervous, that’s all.”

  “I’m a bundle of nerves, myself.”

  “Why don’t we sit down?” He headed for his easy chair.

  Don’t be ridiculous! This is my chance!

  He veered away from the chair and sat on the sofa.

  Emily Jean sat beside him, close but not touching.

  “I guess you know about Helen and the board meeting,” he said.

  “Oh, I had no idea where she was going. It’s a terrible thing to admit, but I parked across the street and watched the house. I was simply delighted to see her drive off. But frightened. You have no idea. I sat in my car for half an hour before I gathered enough courage to climb out.” She laughed. This time, her laughter sounded more relaxed than before.