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Authors: Jim Thompson

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BOOK: The Kill-Off
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I
t was Monday night. The dance pavilion is closed for business that night, but of course Ralph still has things to do there. Or things to do somewhere.

It was a little after eight, a little after dark. I heard the front door open quietly.

I hadn’t heard Ralph’s car, but I naturally assumed it was Ralph. The house is well-insulated. If he had driven up the old lane from the rear—as he sometimes does—I wouldn’t have heard the car.

I turned around slightly in the bed. I waited a second, listening, and then I called, “Ralph?”

There wasn’t any answer. I called again, and there still wasn’t any. I made myself smile, forced a laugh into my voice.

Ralph is such a tease, you know. He’s always playing funny little jokes, doing things to make you laugh. I suppose he seems pretty dull and stodgy to most people, but he’s really worlds of fun. And it’s always that sweet, silly puppyish kind. Even while you’re laughing, you get a lump in your throat and you want to take him in your arms and pet him.

Oh, I can understand his attraction for women. His looks and youthfulness are only part of it. Mostly, it’s because you enjoy being around him. Because he’s so funny and sweet and simple and…

“Ralph!” I called. “You answer me now, you bad, bad boy. Luane will be terribly angry with you, if you don’t.”

He didn’t answer. He—whoever it was—didn’t. But I heard the floor creak. I heard more creaks, coming nearer, moving slowly up the stairs.

Just the creaks, sounds; not footsteps. Nothing I could identify.

I called one more time. Then, I swung my feet out of bed and…and sat there motionless. Half paralyzed with fear, helpless even if I was not so badly frightened.

The phone was out of order.
As he—this person—doubtless knew.
It was useless to yell. And if I locked the door, well, it could be forced. And then I would be trapped in here, in this one crowded, cluttered room, with even less chance of saving myself than I had now.

I got up, took an uncertain step toward the door. I hesitated, stared slowly around the room. And suddenly I was almost calm.

Save myself! I thought. Save myself!

Now, surely I should know how to do that.

 

Kossy came to see me the first Sunday of the season. I had called him, indicating that there was something I wanted to talk to him about when he had the time—strictly at his own convenience. And he raced right over. He didn’t hurry on my account, of course. Catch one of
those
people doing anything for you unless there’s a dollar in it. Probably he thought Ralph would be here, and he could load up on a lot of free eggs and fruit and vegetables.

Oh, well. I suppose I am exaggerating a little. Kossy really doesn’t seem to care about money; he’ll treat you just about the same way, whether he’s getting a fat fee or nothing. And I suppose my call may have sounded rather urgent. But—

But why should he care about money? I wouldn’t either if I had all he’s got. Why should he blame me, a poor, helpless sick old woman for sounding a little excited?

He was very mean and insulting. Not that he usually isn’t. As soon as I was convinced that there was nothing to worry about, I ordered him out of the house. I should have done it long before, because I’d heard some pretty unpleasant stories about that man. How he’d cheated and swindled people right out of their eyeteeth. I can’t say just who I heard them from, but they’re all over town. And where there’s so much smoke, there must be some fire.

At any rate, he not only insulted me, but he gave me some very bad advice. Because I most certainly did have something to worry about! He convinced me temporarily—and against my will—that I hadn’t. But I knew better. The season was only two days old, and I’d already seen it in Ralph—seen it in the way he talked and acted and looked. And that was only the beginning.

He came home late that night, very late, I should say, since he is always out working as long as he can find work to do. I sleep a lot during the day, however, so I was awake.

He fixed a snack for me; he was too tired to eat, himself, he said. He was going to go straight to bed—in fact, he got a little stubborn about it. But I cried a little and pointed out how lonesome it was for me all day by myself, so we talked a while.

I studied him, listening to what he said, noticing what he didn’t. I began to worry again. I began to get frightened.

I hardly slept a wink all night. I hardly slept a wink any night, because Ralph didn’t change back to what he had been—he kept going farther and farther the other way.

I was practically out of my mind by the end of the week. I was going to call Kossy, but I didn’t have to. He came to see me. As of course, I should have known he would. Catch
him
letting go of a good thing! He’s probably building up his bill, so that he can attach this property.

Anyway, he was afraid not to come. He knew what I could do if I took the notion. I’ve never said anything about him yet, mind you—hardly anything—but if he wanted to be mean and ugly, I certainly had a right to defend myself!

I cried a little, and told him about Ralph. He sat and stared at me like I was some strange kind of animal, instead of a poor, sick, helpless old woman who needed comfort and sympathy. And then he said that he’d be goddamned.

“Kossy, darling,” I said. “I’ve asked you so many times please not to use—”

“I tell you what I won’t use,” he said. “I won’t use any words you ain’t used ten thousand times yourself. I hadn’t ought to bother with you at all, but as long as I am I’ll—”

“All right, Kossy, dear,” I said. “I’m just an old woman. I can’t stop you if you insist.”

“Luane,” he said. “For God’s sake—Aaah, nuts—” he said, and threw up his hands. “Never mind. Let me see if I got this straight. Ralph is seeing this girl every night; you’re sure of that. But he
isn’t
sleeping with her. And you’re bothered because he
isn’t!

I said, no, Ralph wasn’t. “He always has before,” I said. “He’s a-always been honest before—c-come home and told me about it afterwards.”

“But—but—” He waved his hands again. “You mean you want it that way? You want him to make these babes?”

“W-well. I don’t really want him to,” I said. “But it wouldn’t be fair to stop him, since I—well, you know. And as long as he tells me about it…”

He gave me an odd look, as if he was a little sick at his stomach. He said something about, yes, he could see how I might enjoy that.

“Well, never mind,” he went on. “It kind of knocked me over for a minute, but I guess I get the picture. Ralph is playing it clean with this gal. In your book, that makes him in love with her. Suppose he does a switch, goes after what he always has, what does that make him?”

“Please,” I said. “Please don’t joke about it, Kossy.”

“Okay,” he shrugged. “Say he’s in love with her. Say he’s going to stay in love. And you don’t like it, naturally. But it don’t add up to his planning to kill you.”

“But it does! I mean, it could,” I said. “I—well—”

“Yeah?” He waited, frowning at me. “How does it? I seem to remember that we were all over that the other day. Ralph could get a divorce. He could just up and leave. We agreed that he could.”

“Well,” I said. “I guess he could—I mean, I know he could. But—but—”

“Yeah?”

He stared at me. He—and that shows what a crook he is! Honest people move their eyes around. They don’t have a guilty conscience, so they don’t feel they have to brazen someone down. It’s only crooks who do that.

“Okay,” he said. “You want to hold out something, go ahead. It ain’t my neck.”

“But I’m not,” I said. “I—it’s just that when I talked to you the other day, I didn’t know he was so serious about this girl. I—”

“So now you know. And he can still walk away or get a divorce, so it still don’t shape up to a murder.”

“I—well, here’s what I was thinking,” I said. “The season will end in a couple months, and of course the girl will be leaving. So whatever…if Ralph is going to do anything, he’ll have to do it by then. And—and—”

Kossy waited a moment. Then he grimaced and reached for his hat.

“Don’t!” I said. “I’m trying to tell you, Kossy. After all, it isn’t easy for me to discuss Ralph this way, to think of some reason why my own husband would w-want t-to—to—”

“Well, sure.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I don’t suppose it is. But—”

“But there is a reason why he might, Kossy. This property isn’t worth nearly what it used to be, but it would still bring five or six thousand dollars—maybe as much as ten. And if Ralph needed money, if he was so mean and selfish that he couldn’t wait until I died…”

Kossy’s eyes narrowed. Blinked. He nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” he said. “Could be. That would seem like a world of dough to Ralph, particularly now that he’s been so hard hit in the job department. I don’t suppose there’s any use pointing out to you that if Ralph is planning something, you’re at least partly at fault.”

“I am not!” I said. “I haven’t said a single solitary word about anyone! Anyway, Ralph doesn’t blame me in the least, he knows I haven’t said half as much as I could have, and—”

“Okay. Okay,” Kossy sighed. “Forget it. Ralph wants to kill you, maybe. He’s got a double motive, maybe: to clear his way for the girl, and to cash in on what’s left of the estate. Say that that’s the situation. What do you want me to do about it?”

“Well, I…”

I didn’t know. How should I know what to do? That was his job. And he’d been plenty well paid for it! I hadn’t ever actually caught him stealing from me, but there’d been a great deal of talk about—

“You think it over,” he said. “See what develops, and we’ll talk again in a few days. Meanwhile, I want to say something about these lies of yours—
shut up! don’t interrupt me!
—and I want you to take it to heart. If—”

“But I haven’t said a word!” I said. “Honestly, Kossy. I—And I just hope someone does try to start something! I’ll—”

“You’ll damned probably get killed,” he said. “I mean it, Luane. It’s the law of averages. You get enough people sore enough to kill you—and you’ve got just about the whole damned town—one of them is almost certain to do the job. So cut it out, get me? Better still, see if you can’t undo some of the damage. Try to do it. Admit you’ve been lying, apologize to the people you’ve harmed. Use that phone for something decent for a change.”

Well, of course, I wasn’t going to do anything like that! I’d die before—I just wasn’t going to do it! In the first place, I hadn’t said anything. He was just irritated by the few harmless little jokes I’d told about him. In the second place, it was all true what I’d said; and I guessed that if anyone was cowardly enough to harm someone for telling the truth, they’d have done so by now. And just what was I supposed to do all day, pray tell? Just lie here all day like a bump on a log, and never have a little harmless chat with anyone?

I tried to explain to Kossy how absolutely ridiculous it all was. But just try to tell
that
man anything! He looked at me, not really listening to what I was saying, and then he sighed and shook his head.

“Okay, maybe you can’t help it,” he said. “Take it easy, and I’ll see you in a few days.”

I was just a little worried after he’d gone; I mean, about someone wanting to kill me besides Ralph. Then, I just shoved it out of my mind—almost—because a person can only worry about so much and that’s all, and I had more than my limit with Ralph.

Because I hadn’t told Kossy everything. I hadn’t told him the most important thing.

He came back the latter part of that week. He kept coming back, week after week—he was here the last time this morning—but it didn’t help any. I certainly couldn’t do any of the silly things he suggested.

Ralph hadn’t said or done anything out of the way. He was different, but it wasn’t something you could put your finger on. Outwardly he was just as nice and considerate as ever, so how could I have put him under peace bond? Obviously, I couldn’t. I wouldn’t have even if I had a concrete reason to, because that
would
have fixed things up. It would have brought everything to a showdown—killed the last bit of hope I had. And the same thing would happen if I let Kossy speak to him. Or if I had one of the county authorities do it.

Ralph wouldn’t feel sorry for me any more. He wouldn’t pity me. He’d just go ahead and do what he wanted to do—what he wasn’t yet nerved-up to doing.

As you can see, Kossy has been absolutely no help to me. None whatsoever. Here I am, a sick old woman whom nobody loves, and I can get no help from my own attorney, a man who has stolen thousands of dollars from me.

The foolish little squirt even brought a gun here, a revolver, and wanted me to keep it! I refused even to touch it.

“Oh, no, you don’t!” I said. “No, siree! People have accidents with guns. Accidentally-on-purpose accidents. As soon as Ralph or anyone found out I had that thing, they’d fix up a little accident for me.”

“But, dammit, Luane,” he said. “What the hell else can you do? What can I do for you? Now, you keep it—keep it where you can get to it fast. And if anyone goes for you, use it.”

“Wh-aat?”
I said. “You’re suggesting that I should
shoot
someone? W-why—why, how dare you, Kossy! What kind of woman do you think I am?”

“God!” he almost shouted. “I don’t know why the hell I don’t kill you myself!”

He said some other very mean, nasty things, and then he slammed out of the house.

He came back for the last time this morning.

He said that he still thought I was in much more danger from others than I was from Ralph. Then, when I said he simply didn’t know what he was talking about, he began to get ugly. And nosy.

“Y’know, Luane,” he said, “the more I think about it, the less I can see Ralph committing murder for the few thousand bucks this estate would bring. It’s hard for me to see him as a murderer, anyway, and for that kind of dough it just don’t seem to figure at all.”

“Well, you’re absolutely wrong,” I said. “For a man like Ralph, who’s never really had anything—”

BOOK: The Kill-Off
4.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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