“I hated my mother. She was cheating on my father—Mr. Slocum. I saw her and Mr. Knudson together one day, and I wanted to make her suffer. And I thought if my father—if Mr. Slocum found out he’d make her leave and we could be together. Don’t you see, they were always quarreling or giving each other the silent treatment. I wanted them separated so there would be some peace. But the letter didn’t seem to make any difference at all.”
For a while she had seemed a woman; more than that, an ageless sybil speaking from ancient wisdom. She had become a child again, a harried child trying to explain the inexplicable: how one could do a murder with the best intentions in the world.
“So you did it the hard way,” I said. “You thought your grandmother’s money would blow them apart. Your mother would run off with her lover, and you could live happily ever after with your father.”
“Mr. Slocum,” she corrected me. “He isn’t my father. Yes, I thought that. I am a hideous creature.” And she wailed.
A mockingbird in the cypresses took it up. The sobbing howls of the girl and the bird demented the twilight. I laid one arm across Cathy’s shuddering back. She said: “I am hideous. I should die.”
“No, Cathy. Too many people have died.”
“What are you going to do with me? I deserve to die. I really hated Grandma, I wanted to kill her. She twisted my father from the time he was a little boy, she made him what he is. You know what an Oedipus complex is, don’t you?”
“Yes. I’ve also heard of an Electra complex.”
She missed that. It was just as well, because I shouldn’t have said it. She knew too much already, more than she could bear.
She had given over crying, but the bird still howled from the tree like a disembodied conscience.
I said: “Cathy. I’m not going to do anything to you. I haven’t the right.”
“Don’t be nice to me. I don’t deserve anything nice from anybody. From the moment I decided to do it, I’ve felt as if I was cut off from every human being. I know what they mean by the mark of Cain, I have it.” She covered her high fair brow with her hand, as if it might actually be branded.
“I understand how you feel. I was responsible, in a way, for Pat Reavis’s death. Once I killed another man with my hands. I did it to save my own life, but his blood is on my hands.”
“You are being too good to me, and so was Mr. Knudson. My father.” The word sounded remarkable from her lips, as if it stood for something great and mysterious and new. “He blamed himself for everything that happened. Now you’re blaming yourself. I’m the one that did it, though. I even intended Pat to take the blame for me. I did see him here that night. I lied to you when I told you that I didn’t. He wanted me to run away with him, and I tried to want to, but I couldn’t. He was drunk; I sent him away. Then I saw the cap he’d left in the car, and that was when I decided I could do it. It was terrible. Once I saw what I could do, I felt as if I had to do it. You know?”
“I think I know.”
“I felt as if I’d sold my soul to the devil, even before it happened—No, I mustn’t say it happened, because I made it happen. Still I thought if I could get away from here, it wouldn’t have to happen. I saw you coming out of the house, and I got into your car. But you wouldn’t take me away.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, you couldn’t help it. What could you have done with me? Anyway, you left me there. I knew Grandma was sitting here in the garden. I couldn’t go back into the house until it was done. I went down by the pool and hid Pat’s cap in the hedge, then I called her. I told her there was a dead bird in the pool. She came to look and I pushed her in. I went into the house and went to bed. I didn’t sleep all night, or last night either. Do you think I can sleep tonight, now that other people know?”
She turned her face to me. It was open and tormented, its flesh gray and almost translucent, like the last falling light in the garden.
“I hope so, Cathy.”
Her cold lips moved: “Do you think I’m insane? I’ve been afraid for years that I was going insane.”
“No,” I said, though I hadn’t any idea.
A man’s voice called her name from somewhere out of sight. The bird flew out of the tree and circled to another, where it took up a new cry.
Cathy’s head came up like a deer’s. “I’m here.” And she added in the same clear voice: “father.” The strange and ancient word.
Knudson appeared at the gate. He glowered when he saw me. “I told you to get out and stay out. Leave her alone.”
“No,” Cathy said. “He’s been nice to me, father.”
“Come here, Cathy.”
“Yes, father.” She went to him, her head bowed and watchful.
He spoke to her in a low voice, and she walked away in the direction of the house. She moved uncertainly, a traveler on new ground, and was lost in the cypress shadows.
I went to the gate and faced Knudson in the narrow opening between the fieldstone posts. “What are you going to do with her?”
“That’s my business.” He was taking off his coat. He was in civilian clothes, and his gunbelt was missing.
“I’ve made it my business, too.”
“You’ve made a mistake. Several mistakes. You’re going to suffer for them.” He swung a fist at me.
I stepped out of reach. “Don’t be childish, Knudson. Bloodletting won’t help either of us. Or Cathy.”
He said: “Take off your coat.” He draped his over the swinging gate.
I threw mine on top of it. “If you insist.”
He backed onto the grass, and I followed him. It was a long hard fight, and a useless one. Still it had to be fought through. He was bigger and heavier than I was, but I was faster. I hit him three times to his one. I knocked him down six times before he stayed, prone on his back with both hands over his face. Both of my thumbs were sprained and swelling tight. My right eye was almost closed by a mouse on the upper lid.
It was full dark when it ended. He sat up after a while and spoke between sobbing breaths. “I had to fight somebody. Slocum was no good to me. You fight well, Archer.”
“I was trained by pros. What are you going to do with Cathy?”
Slowly he got to his feet. His face was striped with black blood which dropped from the end of his chin and splattered his torn shirt. He staggered and almost fell. I steadied him with my hand.
“Officially, you mean?” He mumbled, through puffed lips. “I turned in my resignation this afternoon. I didn’t tell them why. You’re not going to tell them, either.”
“No,” I said. “She’s your baby.”
“She knows that she’s my baby. She’s coming with me, back to Chicago. I’ll put her in school there, and try to give her a home. Does that sound impossible to you? I’ve seen worse cases than Cathy straighten out and grow up into people. Not often, but it happens.”
“Cathy will make it if anybody will. What does Slocum say?”
“Slocum can’t stop me,” he said. “He isn’t going to try. Mrs. Strang is coming with me; she and Cathy are fond of each other.”
“Good luck, then.”
Around us and above us the darkness was immense. Our hands groped for each other and met. I left him there.
VINTAGE CRIME / BLACK LIZARD
_____ No Beast So Fierce by Edward Bunker 10.00 0679-74155-0
_____ Double Indemnity by James M. Cain $8.00 0-679-72322-6
_____ The Postman Always Rings Twice by James M. Cain $8.00 0-679-72325-0
_____ Fast One by Paul Cain $9.00 0-679-75184-X
_____ The Big Sleep by Raymond Chandler $10.00 0-394-75828-5
_____ Farewell, My Lovely by Raymond Chandler $10.00 0-394-75827-7
_____ The High Window by Raymond Chandler $11.00 0-394-75826-9
_____ The Lady In the Lake by Raymond Chandler $10.00 0-394-75825-0
_____ The Long Goodbye by Raymond Chandler $11.00 0-394-75768-8
_____ Trouble Is My Business by Raymond Chandler $9.00
0-394-75764-5
_____ Dead Lagoon by Michael Dibdin $12.00 0-679-75311-7
_____ The Dying of the Light by Michael Dibdin $9.00 0-679-75310-9
_____ The Last Sherlock Holmes Story $10.00 0-679-76658-8
_____ I Wake Up Screaming by Steve Fisher $8.00 0-679-73677-8
_____ Black Friday by David Goodis $7.95 0-679-73255-1
_____ The Burglar by David Goodis $8.00 0-679-73472-4
_____ Cassidy’s Girl by David Goodis $8.00 0-679-73851-7
_____ Night Squad by David Goodis $8.00 0-679-73698-0
_____ Nightfall by David Goodis $8.00 0-679-73474-0
_____ Shoot the Piano Player by David Goodis $7.95 0-679-73254-3
_____ Street of No Return by David Goodis $8.00 0-679-73473-2
_____ The Big Knockover by Dashiell Hammett $13.00 0-679-72259-9
_____ The Continental OP by Dashiell Hammett $12.00 0-679-72258-0
_____ The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett $9.00 0-679-72264-5
_____ Red Harvest by Dashiell Hammett $10.00 0-679-72261-0
_____ The Thin Man by Dashiell Hammett $9.00 0-679-72263-7
_____ Ripley’s Game by Patricia Highsmith $11.00 0-679-74568-8
_____ Ripley Under Ground by Patricia Highsmith $11.00 0-679-74230-1
_____ Ripley Under Water by Patricia Highsmith $11.00 0-679-74809-1
_____ The Boy Who Followed Ripley by Patricia Highsmith $11.00 0-679-74567-X
_____ The Talented Mr. Ripley by Patricia Highsmith $11.00 0-679-74229-8
_____ A Rage In Harlem by Chester Himes $8.00 0-679-72040-5
_____ The Laughing Policeman by Maj. Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö $9.00 0-679-74223-9
_____ The Locked Room by Maj. Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö $11.00 0-679-74222-0
_____ The Man on the Balcony by Maj. Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö $9.00 0-679-74596-3
_____ The Man Who Went Up In Smokeby Maj. Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö $9.00 0-679-74597-1
_____ Roseanna by Maj. Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö $9.00 0-679-74598-X
_____ After Dark, My Sweet by Jim Thompson $7.95 0-679-73247-0
_____ The Alcoholics by Jim Thompson $9.00 0-679-73313-2
_____ The Criminal by Jim Thompson $8.00 0-679-73314-0
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_____ The Getaway by Jim Thompson $10.00 0-679-73250-0
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_____ Heed the Thunder by Jim Thompson $10.00 0-679-74014-7
_____ A Hell of a Woman by Jim Thompson $10.00 0-679-73251-9
_____ The Killer Inside Me by Jim Thompson $9.00 0-679-73397-3
_____ Nothing More Than Murderby Jim Thompson $9.00 0-679-73309-4
_____ Now and On Earth by Jim Thompson $9.00 0-679-74013-9
_____ Pop. 1280 by Jim Thompson $9.00 0-679-73249-7
_____ Recoil by Jim Thompson $10.00 0-679-73308-6
_____ Savage Night by Jim Thompson $8.00 0-679-73310-8
_____ South of Heaven by Jim Thompson $9.00 0-679-74017-1
_____ A Swell-Looking Babe by Jim Thompson $9.00 0-679-73311-6
_____ Texas by the Tail by Jim Thompson $9.00 0-679-74011-2
_____ The Transgressors by Jim Thompson $8.00 0-679-74016-3
_____ Wild Town by Jim Thompson $9.00 0-679-73312-4
_____ Blue Belle by Andrew Vachss $11.00 0-679-76168-3
_____ Born Bad by Andrew Vachss $11.00 0-679-75336-2
_____ Down In the Zero by Andrew Vachss $11.00 0-679-76066-0
_____ Hard Candy by Andrew Vachss $11.00 0-679-76169-1
_____ Sacrifice by Andrew Vachss $11.00 0-679-76410-0
_____ Sheila by Andrew Vachss $11.00 0-679-75681-7
_____ Strega by Andrew Vachss $11.00 0-679-76409-7
_____ The Burnt Orange Heresy by Charles Willeford $7.95 0-679-73252-7
_____ Pick-Up by Charles Willeford $9.00 0-679-73253-5
Available at your bookstore or call toll-free to order: 1-800-793-2665.
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Also by
ROSS MACDONALD
LEW ARCHER MYSTERIES
“The finest series of detective novels ever written by an American.”
—The New York Times
The Chill
In The Chill, a routine search for a runaway bride entangles Archer in two murders, one twenty years old, the other so recent that the victim’s blood is still wet. What ensues is a detective novel with one of the most intricate plots ever spun by an American crime writer.
Crime Fiction/0-679-76807-6
Black Money
Lew Archer is hired to investigate a suspicious French “aristocrat” who’s run off with his client’s girlfriend—only to uncover a mountain of gambling debts and a seven-year-old suicide with lethal repercussions in the present.
Crime Fiction/0-679-76810-6
Available at your local bookstore, or call toll-free to order:
1-800-793-2665(credit cards only).
The Drowning Pool Page 21