The bartender came with his beer and sandwich. He raised his glass, and cleared his throat “It might help to tell me what the trouble’s all about”
Carl lighted a fresh cigarette. His voice was heavy with sarcasm. “Why certainly, Ed. Cecily wants me to give her a divorce. She wants to get away from me as soon as possible — tonight; tomorrow morning; just as soon as she can.” He smiled, his hard face genuinely amused. “But I won’t allow it. I like having her.”
“Having me,” Cecily whispered.
Carl nodded, looking at her. “I spent thousands feeding, clothing and entertaining you. That proves I like having you, doesn’t it?”
Her face flamed.
Ed sipped his beer. He looked at that wide, cruel face, at the smirking lips, at the amused but cold eyes, and felt a sudden chill. Dogs and rabbits weren’t the only things that man could kill. Yet he said, “Are you sure you want to leave your husband, Cecily?”
She put her hands to her cheeks and whispered hoarsely, “God, I’ve never been so sure of anything in all my life! If you asked me whether I’m more sure of that or of wanting to live, I couldn’t answer.”
“Then I offer you transportation.”
“I accept”
He nodded, the blood pounding in his temples. “Would you like to leave now?”
“Yes, but...” Her eyes broke away.
“I really feel bad about mentioning it,” Carl said, “but I still want her around. At least for a while yet.” He shook in laughter.
“This is the United States,” Ed said. “You can’t force a woman—”
Carl’s laughter ended. “You’re wrong, Prince Charming. I can.”
This was the part Ed feared; the part where the claws would begin to show. “How, if we just drive away?”
Carl rose slowly. “I have money, and money can buy all sorts of services, and I also have the will—” his smile was pure malice as he looked down at his wife — “and the contacts to carry out that will. If you doubt me, leave with Cecily while I’m washing up. I won’t follow. I’ll just use the phone.” He walked away.
Ed raised his glass, but his hand was trembling and he put it down again. “Want to leave?” he asked.
“He means what he says!” And then, face and voice suddenly shy, “Why in the world would you want to...” She didn’t finish.
“I’m running away myself,” he murmured. “We could run together.”
Her hand came across the table and touched his. His fingers reacted as if with a will of their own, meshing in hers. The trembling flowed through both of them, merged, and stifled. Her eyes blinked back tears. “So quickly — yet we both feel...” She shook her head. “But it’s a waste, Ed. Only when he dies...”
“It can happen.” He heard himself say it, and didn’t wonder. He only wanted. He’d wanted to leave the old life, and had done so. Now he wanted to gain the most important single component of his new life — a woman to arouse and satisfy passion — and would do so. He stood up, jerking his head at the archway. “Just for a minute, Cecily, please?”
She flushed at the hunger in his voice, and rose. They went along the central corridor to the doors, where it was dark. He touched her arms, and she turned. A second later, she was tight up against him, her lips parting moistly under his. Then her breath tingled his ear. “Money and possessions, that’s all he ever thinks of! That’s why I hate him. Feelings — excitement and warmth and human feelings — they don’t mean a thing to him. But you, Ed! You’re what I’ve wanted! You’re doing this, even though you heard what he said.”
He backtracked. “He wouldn’t actually try to—”
“He would! He’s not just an ordinary businessman. He manufactures games — pinballs and one-armed bandits and dice cages and roulette wheels. He has contacts with all sorts of people. He’d have me killed — you, too.” Her head jerked; she made sure her husband wasn’t returning. She whispered, “He’s had others — at least one I know of — taken care of. Please don’t doubt that, Ed! He can kill without a thought!”
Ed nodded slowly. Thinking of that dog, he believed her. And for a moment, he wanted to walk away. But in the next moment, her lips returned to his; her kiss was pure fire; they rocked together, burning. He spoke to her, and learned they were staying the night, and got the number of their cabin. And said, “If it’s the only way, so be it.” She trembled against him. They spoke again, whispering frantically, interrupting each other frequently. Then it was settled.
When Carl came to find them, they were sitting on straight-backed chairs, smoking. Carl laughed. “For a minute I thought I’d have to make those calls. But Prince Charming’s sensible, isn’t he? Try again in a year or so, Prince Charming. I might be ready to dump her.”
Cecily left. Carl laughed. Ed returned to the taproom, just as the honeymoon couple was leaving. His sandwich and beer were still waiting. He ate slowly, alone in the room. The bartender began cleaning up. Ed finished, paid, and said, “Well, back to the road.” He went outside. Hugging the building shadows, he moved toward the line of twelve cabins a hundred or more feet back. And noticed that only the Lark and Caddy remained in the parking lot, and that no other car was visible at the cabins. Still, he moved carefully, quietly, as he approached the one lighted cabin. When he reached the door marked with a brass four, he put his hand on the knob and turned. Cecily had done her part. The door opened and he stepped inside. And from then on was in mortal danger, because the important part of his plan was that there be no plan at all when it came to this.
Carl was standing near the bed, fastening a blue silk dressing gown around his thick body. Cecily was on the other side of the bed, face twisted, saying, “... never again!” They both turned to Ed. Carl’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Cecily said, “On your right, Ed.” Ed saw the table, and the two full bottles of whisky. He took one by the neck. It felt heavy in his hand. He was terribly afraid.
Carl said, “Get out of here, fast! You can still save your life!” He stepped forward, fists rising.
Cecily moved then. She picked something up off the lamp table — a long nail file. Carl glanced at her. Ed moved forward with the bottle.
Carl jumped back. His face changed. He was afraid. He said, “Now just a minute. Now hold it a minute. Maybe—”
“He’ll have us killed,” Cecily whispered. “If he ever gets to a phone, we’re dead.”
Carl laughed — a braying, panicked sound. “That was just talk. Big talk with nothing—”
Cecily was near enough to jab his shoulder. Carl said, “No, please!”
Ed didn’t want to do anything to this frightened man. But then Carl grabbed Cecily’s wrist and the nail file clattered to the floor. “Silly broad!” he said, triumphant and threatening again.
Ed hit him with the bottle. It broke. Whisky flooded the graying hair, soaked the blue dressing gown. Carl sat down on the floor, hands over his head. “Stop,” he murmured. He fell over on his side and his eyes rolled back. He said something else. Ed bent, trying to hear. “Again,” Cecily said, and put the other whisky bottle in his hand. “Again, Ed, again, or he’ll kill us!” So he hit him again, and yet again, as Cecily directed.
They worked hard, cleaning the cabin of everything but liquor, moving Carl and their luggage to the Caddy. Ed didn’t allow himself to think of what he’d done. He merely walked to the Lark as Cecily went to the restaurant-bar. It was 2 A.M.
Ten minutes later, he was parked at the side of the road, waiting. Cecily was to tell whoever was on night duty that she and her husband were getting an early start for Mexico. She was to ask for a bottle of bourbon, and pay as much as necessary to get it. She was to act drunk, and intimate that her husband was even drunker. If she heard Ed pulling out of the lot, she was to raise her voice to cover his exit. Failing that, she was to say it was a car on the highway. Then she would go to the Caddy and drive off.