Killing Cousins

by Flora, Fletcher

  Gwen rolled over and sat up, leaving the upper scrap of white lying detached on the yellow pad. Picking up the scrap, she held it casually in front of the place it was supposed to go. Her eyes were foggy and did not seem to focus properly, and the skin beneath the eyes had a bruised and baggy look. She looked, altogether, like a bad day after a hard night.

  “Oh, it’s you, Willie,” she said. “How are you?”

  “Considering everything, I’m pretty well. And you?”

  “Well, considering everything, I feel damn lucky to be alive. Or do I? Perhaps I’d be better off dead.”

  “Why don’t you try a very cold Martini?”

  “Jesus, Willie, do you want me to die immediately?”

  “Nothing of the sort. It would make you feel much better. I’ve had two or three myself, and I’m as good as ever. I’ll mix you one if you like.”

  “No, thanks. I prefer to recover, if I must, in my own way. What I need is about eighteen straight hours of sleep, but it’s impossible to sleep at all while my damn head is simply bursting.”

  She fell back and folded an arm over her eyes, and Willie sat down Indian fashion on the pad beside her. Marv and Gwen had been in the impromptu party at the Club last night, and Marv had certainly been feeling his oats, as well as other things, some of which belonged to Willie. Willie had danced with him several times and could personally testify to this.

  “Did the party last long last night after I left?” Willie said. “It didn’t last long at the Club,” Gwen said, “but it moved on somewhere else and lasted for hours.” “Where did you go?”

  “I don’t remember clearly, but it was someplace outside of town on the highway. There were some rough characters there who kept making snide remarks, and finally Gus Wilhite challenged one of them to a fight. They went outside and knocked each other around a little, and this seemed to clear the air and satisfy everybody, for after that everything was all right. I danced several times with a fellow who said he drove a truck for someone or other, and he wanted me to leave with him and go somewhere else, but of course I couldn’t, with Marv there and all, and I can see, now that I’m sober, that it was for the best. God, Willie, it’s simply incredible what one will do when one has had a few too many drinks.”

  “Yes, it is. It’s also incredible who one will do it with.”

  “God, yes. Imagine a truck driver if you can!”

  “Were you tempted to leave with him?”

  “I was tempted, but fortunately, as I said, I couldn’t.”

  “How did Gus come out?”

  “Gus? Come out of what?”

  “Well, Gwen, you just said he challenged a rough fellow to a fight, and they went outside and knocked each other around.”

  “Oh, that. Gus came out all right. He received a small cut at the corner of his mouth and possibly a loose tooth, but he wasn’t especially concerned. Gus is tough, you know. He keeps in good shape by spending almost all his time swimming and playing golf and tennis.”

  “What time did you get home?”

  “I haven’t the faintest idea, except that it was getting daylight. By that time I merely wanted to fall right over dead in bed, but Marv was getting sober and mean, as he always does, and he absolutely insisted on picking foolish quarrels and shouting at me at the top of his voice. Did you by any chance hear him?”

  “No.”

  “Well, with all the windows closed because of air conditioning, I don’t suppose you could. Anyhow, he kept quarreling and making silly accusations concerning me and certain other men, and after an hour or so he took a cold shower and dressed and went downstairs, but by then he had succeeded in keeping me awake until my head was bursting, and it was no longer possible to sleep. I tried and tried for ages, but I couldn’t, and so I finally put on my bikini and came down here to lie in the sun.”

  “What’s become of Marv?”

  “Oh, he had this eight o’clock appointment at his office with someone about something. It was important, he said, so he had to keep it. When he left he was feeling pretty sick and subdued, no longer inclined at all to shout and make accusations. I really felt rather sorry for the poor bastard, to tell the truth, but of course it’s insane to waste any sympathy on him. After his appointment is over, he’ll close his office and go to sleep and come home later, about five or so, as if he had behaved all along with perfect decency.”

  Willie sighed and shifted her position, hugging her knees beneath her chin.

  “You’re fortunate,” she said, “that matters will be settled so easily between you. As for me, it seems that I’ve been left for good.”

  Gwen unfolded her arm and sat up again abruptly. The movement must have caused her considerable distress, for she winced and closed her eyes and pressed the heels of her hands against her temples. After a moment, she shuddered and opened her eyes and stared at Willie with all the curiosity her condition permitted.

  “What did you say?” she said. “Been left?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “By Howard, you mean?”

  “Of course by Howard. Who else, I’d like to know, could I be left by? Your mind is certainly not working well today, Gwen, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

  “If it were working like a watch, Willie, I’d still find it difficult to believe that Howard would do anything so decisive. No doubt he’s only bluffing and will be home soon.”

  “I wish I could think so, but I can’t.”

  “Come off it, Willie. You know very well that Howard is incapable of going through with it.”

  “You think so? Maybe you don’t know Howard as well as you believe. He was always talking about walking off from everything and going somewhere to some island or something for the rest of his life.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard him say such things myself, but I’m sure it didn’t mean anything. As a matter of fact, Marv talks like that sometimes, the idiot, but I don’t pay any attention to it. All husbands have such fancies, darling. They like to imagine themselves lying around on a beach drinking fermented coconut juice and diddling native girls night and day. It’s part of being a husband.”

  “It’s kind of you to try to reassure me, Gwen, but I’m convinced that it’s much more serious in Howard’s case. He packed three bags and left and has been gone without a word ever since.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since right after I got home from the Club last night. You may remember that he came home ahead without me, and I was forced to catch a ride with his Cousin Quincy.”

  “I remember. But why did he pack and leave? Damn it, Willie, even a husband doesn’t go off like that for no reason at all. What did you do to cause it?”

  “It wasn’t anything I did. It was merely something he thought.”

  “Please don’t be evasive, Willie. What did he think?”

  “He thought I’d been outside doing something with Quincy. His own cousin, Gwen! Can you imagine?”

  “Yes, I can, as a matter of fact. I’ve had experience with cousins myself, Willie, and I know what some of them are capable of. However, on second thought, I’m prepared to make an exception of Quincy. Cousin or not, he’s quite unthinkable as a person to go outside and do something with.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Quincy’s all right. You’ll have to admit that he’s exceptionally clever.”

  “What on earth does being clever have to do with it? In the matter of choosing someone to do something with that would be likely to make a husband leave you, cleverness has no significance at all that I can see. Are you defending Quincy, by the way?”

  “Why should I? It’s no matter to me what you think of him.”

  “You did seem to be a little sensitive.”

  Willie stood up and smoothed her Capri pants over her hips and looked bored. “I thought I could depend on you to be sensible, Gwen, but apparently I can’t. If you’re going to be ridiculous, I don’t believe I care to stay and talk with you any longer.”

  “That’s all right, Willi
e. I feel like hell, and it would suit me fine if you were to go away.”

  “In that case,” Willie said, “I’ll go.”

  She went back along the hedge and into her own yard. She was proud of the way she had spread the idea of Howard’s desertion to Gwen beyond the hedge, who would certainly spread it a great deal farther as soon as her head quit bursting. Now Willie thought that she would like to go inside and have a sandwich and another Martini and a long nap, and that’s where she went and what she did.

  SEVEN

  In the meantime, as Willie did these things and spent the day, Quincy was happily engaged. He devoted himself to Willie’s problem, now that he had permitted himself through sentiment to become involved, with genuine enthusiasm. The truth was, he had always wanted to try his wits at something major that did not, at the same time, demand an excess of tedious labor. That had always been the difficulty with science and law and mathematics, any of the fields in which he might have excelled if he had chosen to apply himself. While certain elements tickled his brain, these elements always became so closely allied eventually with plain work that all the fun was taken out of them. It was a shame, really, that one couldn’t build a rocket or devise a serum without going through unconscionable labor in doing so. It was much more pleasant, in the end, to do nothing much about anything. Willie’s problem, however, was much to his liking. The consequences of failure would be unfortunate, to be sure, but the exhilaration of success would be enormous. Over all, the entire project should require only a short while, and the work involved would be exciting and different, and would not have time to pall and become tedious.

  It would be necessary, first of all, to contact his cousin on his mother’s side, Fred Honeyburg by name. It might, moreover, take some time to make this contact, for Fred was a restless sort, always moving about, and could only infrequently be found in his pad in KC. After leaving Willie, therefore, Quincy had a late breakfast in the coffee shop of the Hotel Quivera and then drove immediately in his second-hand Plymouth to KC, a distance of about fifty miles, and through the city to Fred’s pad, which was on the third floor of a building on Troost. As he suspected, Fred was not there and had not been there, discernibly at least, according to the tenant of the pad adjoining, for some three days and nights. Quincy was a little disturbed by the fear that Fred might have gotten himself into jail again, just when he was badly needed, but the fear was easily allayed, for Fred was really ingenious at avoiding jails, and had never, except for the one unfortunate incident related by Quincy to Willie, had any intimate experience with them. Recalling Fred’s favorite bar in the downtown area, Quincy drove there and went in, and luck was with him, as it usually was, for there was Fred, sure enough, sitting on a stool at the bar and drinking Schlitz and watching the game of the week on television. There was an empty stool beside him, which Quincy claimed.

  “Hello, Cousin Fred,” he said.

  Cousin Fred turned his head and looked at Quincy and immediately picked up his glass of Schlitz and drank deeply before answering, as if he expected a trying series of events to begin transpiring from this point and was preparing himself for them.

  “Hello, Cousin Quincy,” he said cautiously. “What brings you to town?”

  “I came to see you, as a matter of fact.”

  “Is that so? Why?”

  “Let’s move over to a table where we can talk confidentially.”

  “Well, I don’t know, Cousin Quincy. The last time we had a confidential talk it cost me a hundred skins.”

  “Forget that. I’ve got a proposition that will get your hundred back and a lot more besides.”

  “What’s the pitch?”

  “Damn it, Cousin Fred, I can’t talk about it here. Let’s move over to a table.”

  Cousin Fred drained his glass and looked into it for a few seconds without speaking or moving. He obviously had an uneasy feeling that the series of events he had immediately anticipated at the sight of Quincy had almost immediately begun to happen. He had a notion that he should, if he were smart, extricate himself at the very beginning, but he had another notion that he wouldn’t. Quincy was a compelling little bastard when he wanted to be, and was not above exploiting family loyalty if it became necessary.

  “Let’s take a couple of beers,” Cousin Fred said.

  Quincy bought the beers, which were carried to a little table in a dark corner. The entire place was dark, so far as that went, for Cousin Fred was averse to light and preferred in his places of relaxation the soft comfort of shadows. Physically, he bore a superficial resemblance to Quincy, a common inheritance of certain attributes on the maternal side, but the resemblance was so thin that a third party would hardly have noticed it even if the light had been a great deal stronger than it was. Although they were of a size, rather under the average, Fred’s features were sharper and his eyes had acquired a furtiveness from looking into corners and over his shoulder that Quincy’s lacked. Quincy’s eyes, as a matter of fact, had an open and childlike innocence that was quite appealing, although deceptive.

  Fortified by another large swallow of beer, Cousin Fred said, “Now, Cousin Quincy, let’s hear the pitch.”

  “What I want you to do,” Quincy said, “is steal a car.”

  “Cousin,” Fred said, “I use the word appropriate.”

  “I don’t care what you call it, so long as you do it.”

  “Well, you must excuse me if I seem a little dubious, but this is the first time in a long career that I’ve had anyone ask to have a set of wheels appropriated. Already, Cousin, there’s something in this pitch I’m beginning not to like.”

  “It’s perfectly simple. I leave the wheels, as you say, in a place we shall agree upon. At a time that we shall also agree upon, you make the appropriation and drive away. The only stipulation is, you must dispose of the car immediately. The profit is all yours. I ask for nothing but your service, and I appeal to you because I know you are an expert in these matters and have a sound knowledge of the market.”

  “Those wheels of yours, Cousin? The profit wouldn’t pay for the effort.”

  “Not mine.”

  “Whose, then?”

  “Never mind whose. The car, however, is a new Buick. The profit, even in your market, should be considerable.”

  “I don’t like it. It’s too fat. You wouldn’t be trying to fix me with some kind of rap, would you, Cousin?”

  “The trouble with you, Fred, is that the nature of your work has made you unnaturally suspicious. Would I play a dirty trick like that on the only son of my own mother’s sister?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, let it go. I guarantee that there’s no risk to you whatever. The fact of the matter is, I’d be in far worse trouble than you if you were caught, which is a condition I naturally want to avoid.”

  “Now I dig you, Cousin. Now I’m ready to believe. Why do you want these particular wheels appropriated?”

  “The less you know about that, the better. I tell you there’s no risk and all profit.”

  Cousin Fred drank beer and stared moodily at the thin foam on what was left. He couldn’t rid himself entirely of his uneasy feeling, but at the same time, like any businessman, he was tempted by a clear profit quickly acquired, and he was pretty certain now that this was part of a larger matter that Quincy could hardly afford to play fast and loose in. It was quite clearly something that Quincy wanted done quickly and expertly with no chance of detection.

  “When do you want the wheels appropriated?” he said.

  “Sometime early in the morning. After four o’clock, say.”

  “Where will they be parked?”

  “My idea is to leave the car in the municipal parking lot. I’ll leave the key in the ignition and the parking ticket in the glove compartment. All you’ll have to do is pay the parking fee and drive away. All perfectly overt and innocent. The attendant who takes your stub when you leave will be different from the one who gives me the ticket when I arrive, and so there’s no chance o
f arousing suspicion there. It’s doubtful that anyone would pay any particular attention to either of us, anyhow.”

  “True, Cousin. I like the sound of it. It’s solid.”

  “Do you agree to do it, then?”

  “For the sake of our dear old mothers, I do.”

  “Good. I knew I could count on the family tie.” Quincy drained his glass and stood up. “Any time after four, but you better hadn’t make it too long.”

  “I dig you. My market stays open all hours.”

  “Goodbye, Cousin Fred.”

  “Goodbye, Cousin Quincy.”

  Quincy went outside and back to his Plymouth. He was confident that Cousin Fred would dispose of the Buick expertly and expeditiously; he felt no concern about that. The problem would be, of course, to get it out of Howard’s garage and out of Quivera without detection, but this should also, because of the detached and woody character of the neighborhood, be accomplished without untoward incident; he had no less confidence in his own cleverness than in Fred’s. In the Plymouth, he drove north across the Sixth Street Trafficway to the Municipal Airport. He parked the Plymouth and went inside and inquired at an airlines desk about flights to Dallas, Texas. He was not in the least surprised to learn that there was an available seat on a plane leaving early the next morning, but not so early that he couldn’t catch it after completing his necessary tasks. He was not surprised because he had that feeling of quiet elation which comes with the assurance that everything is going right, just right, and the feeling was even more secured by the information that he could catch a plane back that would land him in KC tomorrow night, the night of the same day of his departure. He bought a round-trip ticket in the name of Elton E. Smallwood and went back to the Plymouth and started home. There remained, of course, the small risk that someone from Quivera who knew him might be on the same plane to Dallas. Citizens of Quivera were not flying out of the airport every day, however, or even a substantial percentage of days, and so the risk was hardly a material danger, and it only added, even if it was, a little salt to the sauce. He did not question his capacity to handle the situation if it developed.