by Gil Brewer
That would be all I’d need.
I couldn’t see any way to get to her tonight. If I took a chance and went over there, Bess might wise up. She was watching me like a cat, anyway. I figured she was thinking about what I’d done up in Chicago. She probably thought I’d got drunk.
“Last day I was up there, I stayed in a cheap hotel. Waiting for these folks to get ready for the trip down. I bought a bottle, Bess. I shouldn’t have, but I felt like celebrating.”
She seemed to take it all right. Celebrating! That was a hot one, all right.
“It was bad stuff. I got sick.”
“You looked pretty bad when you came home. Lots better now, though.”
“When I saw you, I felt better right away.”
“Now, Roy, you know what whiskey does to you. You shouldn’t take the chance in a strange town. You don’t have any sense when you’re drunk. Somebody tell you, ‘Let’s rob a bank,’ you’d be all for it. Whoopee!” She shook her head, standing there by the oven in the kitchen with the roast going. “No sense at all, Roy.”
“Let’s not talk about it. All right?”
We looked at each other. Then she started smiling and she laughed and it was all right. For a minute there, she had me worried. The way she looked at me.
It was a good dinner. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, fresh peas in a cream sauce, apple pie and coffee.
“Wonder what she’s doing down here?”
“Who?”
“That woman I put in number six. One that came in before dinner.”
“Oh. Why?”
“All alone, like that. You don’t see them like her alone. Miss Jane Latimer, from Yonkers, New York.”
“That’s her name?”
“Didn’t you introduce yourself?”
I shook my head.
Bess drank some coffee. “She didn’t go out for dinner. She hasn’t left the place.”
“It’s early yet. Who else we got aboard?”
“There’s an old guy in number fifteen. He’s a shuffleboard bug. I think you ought to clean off the courts. He’d play all by himself. His wife’s going to join him in a month or so. They’re looking for a house down here. So we’ve got him for a month. Mr. Hughes, he is… Say—maybe I should introduce him to Miss Latimer?”
I began to wish she’d lay off.
“Then there’s a couple—middle aged. The Donnes. She drinks an awful lot, always got one in her hand. I don’t blame her, though. The way her husband sits and broods. They came down from New York, so he could get some rest. They never do anything, just sit. Every day a taxi comes up with a load of papers for him. He’s an editor. Some New York publishing house. Got great big circles under his eyes. He walks up and down, talking to himself. She told me she’s scared he’s going to crack up.”
“Anybody else?”
“Honeymooners in eleven, only here for a couple of days. Real cute. And a woman whose husband just died, in nineteen. That’s all.”
“I think that’s damned good, considering the way things been.”
After supper I got out on the lawn and monkeyed with the sprinkler system, trying to work myself over by number six, so I could see what was going on. It was real quiet over there, but she had a light burning.
I turned the sprinklers on. I knew if I was going to speak with her, it would have to be fast, while Bess was doing the dishes.
We had the floodlights cut off to save juice, what with the electric bill we had. They turn them off on us, and it’d really be rough, but I had the lights turned on the lawn at the two corners of the block. And the sign was a big one.
What I did was turn all the sprinklers off, then start turning them on, one at a time, by hand. I followed around, working toward number six. The sprinklers ticked and swished. They looked real good. If only there was lots of traffic, and I could have put the floodlights on. It looked good from the road, but the road was like a mortuary.
“Psst! Nichols!”
I almost went right out of my skin. She was standing there behind one of the double hibiscus bushes at the corner of number seven.
“Get back.”
“I’ve got to see you.”
I just walked straight off across the lawn. I leaned against the royal palm by the sign. I heard her go back toward number six. So then I went over to the sprinklers again. I got the one by seven going, then moved on down beside six. It was in shadow.
It wasn’t good to whisper and sneak. But it wasn’t good to play it straight, either. Let Bess catch me running over here every chance, she’d put the clamps on—trusting or not.
I heard Vivian breathing through the screen windows from inside number six. She had the lights shut off except for one burning in the kitchen.
“You’ve got to get a move on,” she said. “I mean it. I can’t stay here forever.”
“I’m not doing nothing till tomorrow. That’s the way it is.”
I could still hear her breathing; kind of rough, like she was breathing across a washboard. “I haven’t anything to eat.”
“Well, go out and buy yourself something. You got enough money.”
“I can’t go out, Nichols. You’ll have to get me some groceries. Something. Buy me a hamburg.”
“Get it yourself.”
Her voice crackled, high and shrill, whispering through the window. “I can’t go out, damn you! They’ll be watching! My God, they’ll—!”
“They won’t be in St. Pete.”
“But I can’t take that chance!”
“All right. I’ll be in front of our place. You come on over there—by the office, and ask me real loud. Hear? And bring some money. And no hundred-dollar bills.”
She started to say something, but I was already walking away toward the office.
Well, I waited and nothing happened. She didn’t come and she didn’t come.
“Roy?”
The front screen door slammed. It was Bess, coming around front where I stood. Now, she would come. That’s the way it always goes.
“Roy, that Latimer girl asked if you wouldn’t go someplace and buy her some groceries.”
“What?” It was a good thing she didn’t get a close look at my face.
“She came to the back door. Not feeling well, but she’s hungry. Tired from the trip down. She made a list, here. And here’s some money. The corner store’s still open. I told her you’d be glad to do it.”
So I got the Chevy out of the garage and bought her groceries and came back. She and Bess were talking out in front of the office, on the lawn. I wanted to talk with Vivian.
I came across the lawn. “Here you go.”
“Oh, fine. Thanks so much.” She was wearing white slacks and a black cardigan sweater.
“Well, don’t stand there,” Bess said. “Take them inside for her.”
I went on across and into number six. There were the two suitcases, sitting in the middle of the floor, one of them open. I didn’t see anything of the briefcase. I left the groceries on the table in the kitchen, with the change, and started out.
She came in the front door. She didn’t say anything. She just stood there, wringing her hands. “I feel trapped.”
“Tomorrow. I’ll do something tomorrow.”
“You’ve got to get me out of here fast.”
“Leave, then.”
“I can’t just leave. Nichols, I’ve got to get a plane, or a boat, or something. And I can’t do it myself. They’ll have every place covered!”
“You’re nuts. They can’t do that. You think they got the U. S. Army?”
“It’s worse than that.” She stood there, not looking at me. “I wish you were staying with me tonight. I’m scared, Nichols.”
“Where’s the money?”
“Under the seat of that chair.”
I could see the tip of the briefcase and some of the red scarf. “Why don’t you fix the clasp on that briefcase? Give you something to do.”
“Better the way it is. I’ve had that scarf for years. It’s a kind
of talisman.”
“What in hell’s a talisman?”
“Good luck charm, like.”
Bess was coming back from the curb, brushing off her hands. She was looking toward number six, squinting a little.
“We’ll work something out tomorrow.”
She turned and kind of leaped at me, both hands out. I got over by the door. “Nichols. I’m scared.”
I watched her for a second, then went on outside. That Vivian, scared of her own shadow! How could they cover all the airports? They didn’t even know she existed. It was Teece they would be wondering about. And they wouldn’t wonder about him for long. They would wonder about the money.
But who were “they”? She was really frightened, there was no getting around that.
Well, I’d have to get her out of here. And I was going to hit her hard for doing this. It was costing me a few years.
I went on out and put the Chevy in the garage.
“I phoned the doctor.”
“What?”
“About your finger. You’ve got an appointment for tomorrow afternoon. Two o’clock. I tried to get it earlier, but he was filled up.”
Bess closed the Venetian blinds on the bedroom window.
The next morning I couldn’t get near number six no matter how hard I tried. She came out and walked around and you could see the nerves. She had on the white slacks and the black sweater.
The best we could do was wave at each other. There was so much to do, I didn’t really accomplish anything, what with the worrying.
The front of number twenty was beginning to peel. I mixed some paint, trying to get the same pastel shade of blue it was in the first place. When it began to dry, it was a lot darker. It looked bad.
“Don’t you think you’ll have to paint them all, Roy? They need it anyway.”
And all the time Vivian was back there in number six, going crazy. Every time I walked past on the lawn, she’d come out on the little porch, kind of frantic, making eyes. I didn’t even dare look at her much.
Roy this; Roy that. The grass needed cutting. The garage roof leaked in two places. The hedges needed trimming and the fronds were withered and brown on all the palms. The lights had gone bad in ten. The sink was plugged up in number five. Mr. Hughes said his toilet wouldn’t flush.
I ran around the place, getting nowhere, and then it was one-thirty.
“How’d you do this to your finger, Mr. Nichols?”
“Well, Doc, you see, I caught it in a car door.” He looked at me, blinking his eyes behind enormous black-framed glasses. He was a young guy, heavy-set, with shoulders like a fullback, with those eyes that say you’re lying no matter what you say. He kept looking at the finger and shaking his head.
“Have to set it. Have to get the swelling down first.”
“Anything. Listen, just set it.”
“With the swelling, the pain would be bad.”
“Go ahead—go on.”
Well, he liked to kill me. So there I was, finally, with it in a neat little cast. My finger sticking out so it would be in the way of everything.
“Bill me, Doc.”
“Well, all right, Mr. Nichols. And, say—be careful of car doors after this.”
His grin was real sly…
His office was alongside the Chamber of Commerce building. I went on out to the car, figuring I’d have to see Vivian if I was ever going to get my hands on any of that money. I climbed into the car and started her up.
The sun was bright and hot.
I looked back to check traffic and happened to glance over toward the front door of the Chamber of Commerce building. It was like being shot in the face. But it was no mistake. I would never forget that face. Noel Teece was limping across the sidewalk.
Chapter 7
I sat there, staring, with my foot jammed against the gas pedal, my hand just resting on the gearshift. The engine roared and roared without moving.
Teece was limping badly, dressed in a white Palm Beach suit. His left arm was in a big cast and sling. One side of his face was bandaged, so he only could use one eye.
I didn’t know what to do. All the things Vivian was afraid of were beginning to come true.
He walked right by the front of the car, starting across the street. Then he looked directly at the windshield, and you could see him frown with the way the engine was tearing it up. I let go on the gas. He turned away. The sun was on the windshield, so he hadn’t seen me. Then he went on across the street, limping, moving in a slow slouch.
He was real beat up and in pain. You could tell. I watched him go across the street and stand on the corner.
He stood there arranging the sling, kind of staring at his arm as if it was something foreign. Then he patted the bandages by his left eye. He was wearing a Panama hat and it rode on top of the bandages on his head. He kept trying to pull the brim down.
I had to tell Vivian. When I did, there was no telling what she’d do. I sure didn’t like seeing Noel Teece—alive.
Because I knew why he was in this town.
“You get your finger fixed?”
“Yeah.”
I had tried bringing the car around to the garage, figuring I’d be able to sneak over to number six. Bess must have seen me coming, or else she was just waiting back there. Anyway, she watched me park the car in the garage.
“That’s good.”
“The doc set it. It sure hurt.”
“Tough,” Bess said. I looked at her. She had on a two-piece white swimsuit. She’d been working in the back lawn while I was gone, and she was wet from the sprinklers. Only there was something else in her eyes. She had some mud on one hand, and she wiped her face and some of the mud smeared off.
We stood there watching each other. Finally, I started for the house. Somehow I had to get to Vivian, because Noel Teece knew my name. I remembered telling him in the Lincoln. All he had to do was check a little, and he’d be along.
“Where are you going?”
“Inside. This damn finger. You wouldn’t think a little finger would hurt so much.”
She came along behind me, her feet swishing on the grass. “Roy?”
I stood there holding the screen door open, half inside the kitchen. You could tell it from the tone of her voice. She had something on her mind. “A letter came for you.”
“Oh?”
“It’s in on the desk.”
“Well, fine.”
She just stood there. She didn’t say anything.
I went on into the kitchen and let the screen door slam. It was like everything had gone out of the place, all life. There just wasn’t any sound at all.
I kept thinking of Vivian. I went in and the letter was on the desk. There wasn’t another thing on the desk. Just that letter. Now, I knew Bess was pulling something.
It was from Albert, and it was open.
I started reading and I heard her coming. It was short and sweet, just like that creep. Explaining everything, just fine.
“Why did you lie, Roy?”
“What in hell else could I do?”
“You could have told me he wouldn’t give you the money. I didn’t mean to open it. I thought it was all right. I thought it was the check.”
Albert had said how sorry he was about not giving me the money. The same old line all over again. Hoe your own row. Maybe some time ten years from now…
“Roy?”
“Huh?”
“You didn’t answer me. Why’d you tell me he was sending the money?”
I stood there with my mouth open. Vivian was walking across the front yard. She went over by a palm tree and stood there. I could see her gnawing her lip.
“You want a telescope, Roy?”
“Cut it out!”
“Answer me, then.”
I had to get Vivian back into the apartment. My God, what if Teece came along now? She didn’t even know. All day long she’d been waiting for me to do something and I hadn’t even been able to talk with her.
> I turned to Bess. “I had to lie to you. How could I tell you the way he acted? It was lousy—crummy. You never saw anything like it. My own brother!”
“You don’t have to talk like that, Roy.”
“Well, damn it, it’s true. I didn’t know what to do.”
“So you let me get my hopes up. And the suit, Roy. Did he give you the suit of clothes, too?”
“Sure, he did. Certainly. My gosh, Bess!”
“Don’t blame me. I don’t know what to believe any more.”
She came over and perched herself on the corner of the desk. Her hair was all messed up and there was that mud on her face. “Take it easy, Bess.”
“I am taking it easy. I’m just so damned mad I could choke you.”
Vivian was staring over here at the office. Then she started back across the lawn toward number six. She paused and glanced toward the office again.
“You notice? She cut off her slacks and made a pair of shorts. She’s got nice legs. Hasn’t she?”
“Bess, for gosh sakes!”
She came off the desk and started toward the kitchen, and whirled and stood there. “You saw him four days ago. Where were you all that time, Roy?”
“I told you—waiting for a ride down here. Listen, I didn’t have much money, you know that. The hotel bill took everything. I had just enough for that damned bottle. So I bought it. Not enough dough to get home, even. I didn’t even eat, Bess. Last night was the first meal in two days.”
“All right,” she said. “I’m sorry.” She walked up to me and put her arms around me. She was soaking wet, but I held her tight and kissed her.
“Forgive me, Roy?”
“Sure. What’s there to forgive?”
“I shouldn’t be that way. Only you were gone so long, up there in Chicago. And I know Chicago, remember? I thought all sorts of things. Then to find this out—that you didn’t get the money.”
I kissed her again.
“What are we going to do, Roy?”
“I’m figuring something. But I can’t tell you now. Something’ll work out.”
“All right. I’ll lay off. I’m going to take a shower. I’m sorry what I said about her, too. But she’s been walking around in those home-built shorts of hers. She cut them so close up it’s a wonder they don’t gag her.”