The Killer Inside Me

by Jim Thompson

  “Wha-at?” I said. It was like getting a punch in the guts. Amy didn’t go in for cussing. At least, I’d never heard her do much.

  “You’re dirty. I can tell. I can smell it on you. Smell her. You can’t wash it off. It’ll never come off. You—”

  “Jesus Christ!” I grabbed her by the shoulders. “What are you saying, Amy?”

  “You screwed her. You’ve been doing it all along. You’ve been putting her dirty insides inside of me, smearing me with her. And I’m going to make you pay for it. If it’s the l-last thing I ever d-do, I’ll—”

  She jerked away from me, sobbing, and jumped out of bed. As I got up, she backed around a chair, putting it between me and her.

  “K-keep away from me! Don’t you dare touch me!”

  “Why, sure, honey,” I said. “Whatever you say.”

  She didn’t see the meaning yet of what she’d said. All she could think of was herself, the insult to herself. But I knew that, given enough time—and not much at that—she’d put all the parts of the picture together. She wouldn’t have any real proof, of course. All she had to go on was guesswork—intuition—and that operation I’d had: something, thank God, which seemed to have slipped her mind for the moment. Anyway, she’d talk. And the fact that there wasn’t any proof for what she said, wouldn’t help me much.

  You don’t need proof, know what I mean? Not from what I’ve seen of the law in operation. All you need is a tip that a guy is guilty. From then on, unless he’s a big shot, it’s just a matter of making him admit it.

  “Amy,” I said. “Amy, honey. Look at me.”

  “I d-don’t want to look at you.”

  “Look at me.…This is Lou, honey, Lou Ford, remember? The guy you’ve known all your life. I ask you, now, would I do what you said I did?”

  She hesitated, biting her lips. “You did do it.” Her voice was just a shade uncertain. “I know you did.”

  “You don’t know anything,” I said. “Just because I’m tired and upset, you jump to a crazy conclusion. Why, why would I fool around with some chippy when I had you? What could a dame like that give me that would make me run the risk of losing a girl like you? Huh? Now, that doesn’t make sense, does it, honey.”

  “Well…” That had got to her. It had hit her right in the pride, where she was tenderest. But it wasn’t quite enough to jar her loose from her hunch.

  She picked up her panties and began putting them on, still standing behind the chair. “There’s no use arguing about it, Lou,” she said, wearily. “I suppose I can thank my lucky stars that I haven’t caught some terrible disease.”

  “But dammit…!” I moved around the chair, suddenly, and got her in my arms. “Dammit, stop talking that way about the girl I’m going to marry! I don’t mind for myself, but you can’t say it about her, get me? You can’t say that the girl I’m going to marry would sleep with a guy who plays around with whores!”

  “Let me go, Lou! Let…” She stopped struggling, abruptly.

  “What did you—?”

  “You heard me,” I said.

  “B-but just two days ago—”

  “So what?” I said. “No man likes to be yanked into marriage. He wants to do his own proposing, which is just what I’m doing right now. Hell, we’ve already put it off too long, in my opinion. This crazy business tonight proves it. If we were married we wouldn’t have all these quarrels and misunderstandings like we’ve been having.”

  “Since that woman came to town, you mean.”

  “All right,” I said. “I’ve done all I could. If you’re willing to believe that about me, I wouldn’t want—”

  “Wait, Lou!” She hung on to me. “After all, you can’t blame me if—” And she let it go at that. She had to give up for her own sake. “I’m sorry, Lou. Of course, I was wrong.”

  “You certainly were.”

  “When shall we do it, Lou? Get married, I mean.”

  “The sooner the better,” I lied. I didn’t have the slightest intention of marrying her. But I needed time to do some planning, and I had to keep her quiet. “Let’s get together in a few days when we’re both more ourselves, and talk about it.”

  “Huh-uh.” She shook her head. “Now that you’ve—we’ve come to the decision, let’s go through with it. Let’s talk about it right now.”

  “But it’s getting daylight, honey,” I said. “If you’re still here even a little while from now, people will see you when you leave.”

  “I don’t care if they do, darling. I don’t care a teensy-weensie little bit.” She snuggled against me, burrowing her head against my chest. And without seeing her face, I knew she was grinning. She had me on the run, and she was getting a hell of a kick out of it.

  “Well, I’m pretty tired,” I said. “I think I ought to sleep a little while before—”

  “I’ll make you some coffee, darling. That’ll wake you up.”

  “But, honey—”

  The phone rang. She let go of me, not very hurriedly, and I stepped over to the writing desk and picked up the extension.

  “Lou?” It was Sheriff Bob Maples.

  “Yeah, Bob,” I said. “What’s on your mind?”

  He told me, and I said okay, and hung up the phone again. Amy looked at me, and changed her mind about popping off.

  “Your job, Lou? You’ve got some work to do?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “Sheriff Bob’s driving by to pick me up in a few moments.”

  “You poor dear! And you so tired! I’ll get dressed and get right out.”

  I helped her dress, and walked to the back door with her. She gave me a couple of big kisses and I promised to call her as soon as I got a chance. She left then, a couple of minutes before Sheriff Maples drove up.

  8

  The county attorney, Howard Hendricks, was with him, sitting in the back seat of the car. I gave him a cold-eyed look and a nod, as I got in the front, and he gave me back the look without a nod. I’d never had much use for him. He was one of those professional patriots, always talking about what a great hero he’d been in the war.

  Sheriff Bob put the car in gear, clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Sure hated to bother you, Lou,” he said. “Hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

  “Nothing that can’t wait,” I said. “She—I’d already kept her waiting five-six hours.”

  “You had a date for last night?” asked Hendricks.

  “That’s right”—I didn’t turn around in the seat.

  “For what time?”

  “For a little after ten. The time I figured I’d have the Conway business finished.”

  The county attorney grunted. He sounded more than a mite disappointed. “Who was the girl?”

  “None of your—”

  “Wait a minute, Lou!” Bob eased his foot off the gas, and turned onto Derrick Road. “Howard, you’re getting way out of line. You’re kind of a newcomer out this way—been here eight years now, ain’t you?—but you still ought to know better’n to ask a man a question like that.”

  “What the hell?” said Hendricks. “It’s my job. It’s an important question. If Ford had himself a date last night, it—well”—he hesitated—“it shows that he planned on being there instead of—well, uh—someplace else. You see what I mean, Ford?”

  I saw, all right, but I wasn’t going to tell him so. I was just old dumb Lou from Kalamazoo. I wouldn’t be thinking about an alibi, because I hadn’t done anything to need an alibi for.

  “No,” I drawled, “I reckon I don’t know what you mean. To come right down to cases, and no offense meant, I figured you’d done all the jawing you had to do when I talked to you an hour or so ago.”

  “Well, you’re dead wrong, brother!” He glared at me, red-faced, in the rearview mirror. “I’ve got quite a few more questions. And I’m still waiting for the answer to the last one I asked. Who was the—”

  “Drop it, Howard!” Bob jerked his head curtly. “Don’t ask Lou that again, or I’m personally going to lose my
temper. I know the girl. I know her folks. She’s one of the nicest little ladies in town, and I ain’t got the slightest doubt Lou had a date with her.”

  Hendricks scowled, gave out with an irritated laugh. “I don’t get it. She’s not too nice to sl—well, skip it—but she’s too nice to have her name mentioned in the strictest confidence. I’m damned if I can understand a deal like that. The more I’m around you people the less I can understand you.”

  I turned around, smiling, looking friendly and serious. For a while, anyway, it wasn’t a good idea to have anyone sore at me. And a guy that’s got something on his conscience can’t afford to get riled.

  “I guess we’re a pretty stiff-necked lot out here, Howard,” I said. “I suppose it comes from the fact that this country was never very thickly settled, and a man had to be doggoned careful of the way he acted or he’d be marked for life. I mean, there wasn’t any crowd for him to sink into—he was always out where people could see him.”

  “So?”

  “So if a man or woman does something, nothing bad you understand, but the kind of thing men and women have always been doing, you don’t let on that you know anything about it. You don’t, because sooner or later you’re going to need the same kind of favor yourself. You see how it is? It’s the only way we can go on being human, and still hold our heads up.”

  He nodded indifferently. “Very interesting. Well, here we are, Bob.”

  Sheriff Maples pulled off the pavement and parked on the shoulder of the road. We got out, and Hendricks nodded toward the weed-grown trail which led up to the old Branch house. He jerked his head at it, and then turned and looked at me.

  “Do you see that track through there, Ford? Do you know what caused that?”

  “Why, I reckon so,” I said. “A flat tire.”

  “You admit that? You concede that a track of that kind would have to be there, if you had a flat tire?”

  I pushed back my Stetson, and scratched my head. I looked at Bob, frowning a little. “I don’t guess I see what you boys are driving at,” I said. “What’s this all about, Bob?”

  Of course, I did see. I saw that I’d made one hell of a bonehead play. I’d guessed it as soon as I saw the track through the weeds, and I had an answer ready. But I couldn’t come out with it too fast. It had to be done easy-like.

  “This is Howard’s show,” said the sheriff. “Maybe you’d better answer him, Lou.”

  “Okay,” I shrugged. “I’ve already said it once. A flat tire makes that kind of track.”

  “Do you know,” said Hendricks slowly, “when that track was made?”

  “I ain’t got the slightest idea,” I said. “All I know is that my car didn’t make it.”

  “You’re a damned li—Huh?” Hendricks’ mouth dropped open foolishly.

  “B-but—”

  “I didn’t have a flat when I turned off the highway.”

  “Now, wait a minute! You—”

  “Maybe you better wait a minute,” Sheriff Bob interrupted. “I don’t recollect Lou tellin’ us his tire went flat here on Derrick Road. Don’t recall his sayin’ anything of the kind.”

  “If I did say it,” I said, “I sure as heck didn’t mean to. I knew I had a puncture, sure; I felt the car sway a little. But I turned off in the lane before the tire could really go down.”

  Bob nodded and glanced at Hendricks. The county attorney suddenly got busy lighting a cigarette. I don’t know which was redder—his face or the sun pushing up over the hills.

  I scratched my head again. “Well,” I said, “I reckon it’s none of my business. But I sure hope you fellows didn’t chew up a good tire makin’ that track.”

  Hendricks’ mouth was working. Bob’s old eyes sparkled. Off in the distance somewhere, maybe three-four miles away, there was a suck-whush as a mudhog drilling pump began to growl. Suddenly, the sheriff whuffed and coughed and let out a wild whoop of laughter.

  “Haw, haw, haw!” he boomed. “Doggone it, Howard, if this ain’t the funniest—haw, haw, haw—”

  And then, Hendricks started laughing, too. Restrained, uncomfortable, at first; then, plain unashamed laughter. I stood looking on, grinning puzzledly, like a guy who wanted to join in but didn’t know the score.

  I was glad now that I’d made that bonehead mistake. When a man’s rope slides off you once, he’s mighty cautious about making a second throw.

  Hendricks slapped me on the back. “I’m a damned fool, Lou. I should have known better.”

  “Say,” I said, letting it dawn on me at last. “You don’t mean you thought I—”

  “Of course, we didn’t think so,” said Bob, warmly. “Nothing of the kind.”

  “It was just something that had to be looked into,” Hendricks explained. “We had to have an answer for it. Now, you didn’t talk much to Conway last night, did you?”

  “No,” I said. “It didn’t seem to me like a very good time to do much talking.”

  “Well, I talked to him, Bob, I did. Rather he talked to us. And he’s really raring and tearing. This woman—what’s her name, Lakeland?—is as good as dead. The doctors say she’ll never regain consciousness, so Conway isn’t going to be able to lay the blame for this mess on her. Naturally, then, he’ll want to stick someone else with it; he’ll be snatching at straws. That’s why we have to head him off on anything that looks—uh—even mildly peculiar.”

  “But, shucks,” I said, “anyone could see what happened. Elmer’d been drinking, and he tried to push her around, and—”

  “Sure. But Conway don’t want to admit that. And he won’t admit it, if there’s any way out.”

  We all rode in the front seat going back to town. I was in the middle, squeezed in between the sheriff and Hendricks; and all of a sudden a crazy notion came over me. Maybe I hadn’t fooled ’em. Maybe they were putting on an act, just like I was. Maybe that was why they’d put me in the middle, so I couldn’t jump out of the car.

  It was a crazy idea, of course, and it was gone in a moment. But I started a little before I could catch myself.

  “Feelin’ twitchy?” said Bob.

  “Just hunger pains,” I grinned. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.”

  “Wouldn’t mind a bite myself,” Bob nodded. “How about you, Howard?”

  “Might be a good idea. Mind stopping by the courthouse first?”

  “Huh-uh,” said Bob. “We go by there and we’re apt not to get away. You can call from the restaurant—call my office, too, while you’re at it.”

  Word of what had happened was already all over town, and there was a lot of whispering and gawking as we pulled up in front of the restaurant. I mean, there was a lot of whispering and gawking from the newcomers, the oil workers and so on. The old timers just nodded and went on about their business.

  Hendricks stopped to use the telephone, and Bob and I sat down in a booth. We ordered ham and eggs all around, and pretty soon Hendricks came back.

  “That Conway!” he snapped, sliding in across from us. “Now he wants to fly that woman into Fort Worth. Says she can’t get the right kind of medical attention here.”

  “Yeah?” Bob looked down at the menu, casually. “What time is he takin’ her?”

  “I’m not at all sure that he is! I’m the man that has the say-so on handling this case. Why, she hasn’t even been booked yet, let alone arraigned. We haven’t had a chance.”

  “Can’t see that it makes much difference,” said Bob, “as long as she’s going to die.”

  “That’s not the point! The point is—”

  “Yeah, sure,” drawled Bob. “You like to take a little trip into Fort Worth, Lou? Maybe I’ll go along myself.”

  “Why, I guess I could,” I said.

  “I reckon we’ll do that, then. Okay, Howard? That’ll take care of the technicalities for you.”

  The waitress set food in front of us, and Bob picked up his knife and fork. I felt his boot kick mine under the table. Hendricks knew how things stood, but he
was too much of a phony to admit it. He had to go on playing the big hero—the county attorney that didn’t take orders from anyone.

  “Now, see here, Bob. Maybe I’m new here, as you see it; maybe I’ve got a lot to learn. But, by God, I know the law and—”

  “So do I,” the sheriff nodded. “The one that ain’t on the books. Conway wasn’t asking you if he could take her to Fort Worth. He was telling you. Did he mention what time?”

  “Well”—Hendricks swallowed heavily—“ten this morning, he thought. He wanted to—he’s chartering one of the airline’s twin-motor jobs, and they’ve got to fit it up with oxygen and a—”

  “Uh-huh. Well, that ought to be all right. Lou and me’ll have time to scrub up a little and pack a bag. I’ll drop you off at your place, Lou, as soon as we finish here.”

  “Fine,” I said.

  Hendricks didn’t say anything.

  After a minute or two, Bob glanced at him and raised his eyebrows. “Something wrong with your eggs, son? Better eat ’em before they get cold.”

  Hendricks heaved a sigh, and began to eat.

  9

  Bob and I were at the airport quite a bit ahead of time, so we went ahead and got on the plane and made ourselves comfortable. Some workmen were pounding around in the baggage compartment, fixing things up according to the doctor’s instructions, but tired as we were it would have taken more than that to keep us awake. Bob began to nod, first. Then I closed my eyes, figuring to just rest them a little. And I guess I must have gone right to sleep. I didn’t even know when we took off.

  One minute I was closing my eyes. The next, it seemed like, Bob was shaking me and pointing out the window.

  “There she is, Lou. There’s cow town.”

  I looked out and down. I felt kind of disappointed. I’d never been out of the county before, and now that I was sure Joyce wasn’t going to live I could have enjoyed seeing the sights. As it was I hadn’t seen anything. I’d wasted all my time sleeping.

  “Where’s Mr. Conway?” I asked.

  “Back in the baggage compartment. I just went back for a look myself.”