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“How does the lease look?” I asked.

He gave me a smug grin. “You think the lease really concerns you, Enos?”

I studied his face. All I could see was a man gloating. “I’d hoped you’d softened your attitude, Sam.”

His laugh was his reply.

“You know I can make that few thousand up in a matter of weeks, Sam. We’ve been in business...”

“And business is business, Enos.” A sneer came into his eyes. “You should have thought of that. I needed a partner when we started this company.”

“And you don’t now?”

“Not a stinking crook. No, I don’t need that kind of partner.” He sat down behind his desk. “What’ll it be, Enos? Sign the papers? Or go to jail?”

“I don’t hanker to be locked up, Sam.”

“No,” he said acidly. “I was sure you wouldn’t. You’re too great a lover of life for that, too much the gladhanded popularity guy.”

It struck me that he hated me, had always hated me. To him, in this case, business was going to be a pleasure.

“I’ll make one last appeal, Sam...”

“Save it. I’ve said all I’m going to.”

“But I’ll say it anyhow. You know what my portion of the company is worth. Many times the few thousand I borrowed...”

“Stole, Enos, that’s the word.”

I drew in a breath while he sat and watched me and enjoyed himself.

“Well,” I said. “Surely you could pay a few thousand more...”

“You’ve had every dime you’re going to get for your share, Enos. That’s it. Now make up your mind. We either have the papers signed before noon tomorrow or I’m swearing out a warrant.”

I sat and looked at him for a minute. But I didn’t need to make a decision. It had been made all ready. It was seething in my blood and flashing hotly across my brain.

“Have you mentioned any of this to another living soul?” I asked.

“No.”

“If I make this sacrifice,” I said, “I’ll be doing it to keep my name absolutely clean.”

“I know that,” he said. “I know it’s my lever, my weapon, Enos. Made up your mind?”

I stood and nodded. “Come out to the house tonight. About eight. I have an errand to do, but Doreen will be there. You can chin with her if I’m late. Have a drink, if you like. I guess we might as well settle this with as little rancor as possible.”

“That’s sensible talk, Enos. I’m glad you’re taking it this well.”

“What can I do?”

“Not a damn thing,” he said in huge enjoyment. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there. Waiting for you.”

Early that evening I drove over to Macon to see a cousin who had been ill for some time. He was surprised and glad to see me. We made small talk for an hour or so. Business. My marriage. The weather. I left with a promise that I’d bring Doreen and we’d have a real old-fashioned Georgia watermelon cutting sometime soon.

I was back in Mulberry by nine-thirty. Driving through the elm and maple-lined back streets in the darkness I felt tension building in me. There was a thickness in my throat and a tingling in the tips of my fingers. The large, old houses, set beyond wide lawns, were peaceful, serene.

At the edge of town I turned left, picked up the sideroad that ran to The Willows, the fine old place I’d bought for Doreen.

I drove down the dark tunnel with weeping willows on either side. Then my headlights picked up the house, the wide veranda, the white columns. A portion of the downstairs was lighted.

I parked in the driveway beside the house, cut the lights, opened the glove compartment, and transferred the.38 revolver to the side pocket of my coat.

I found Sam and Doreen in the front parlor of the house. A pig about everything, Sam had partaken well of the brandy from the bottle on the sideboard.

His eyes were heavy-lidded, his face reddish purple with blood. He looked up at me and grinned. “You took long enough, Enos.”

“But I’m here now,” I said. “Everything all set, I suppose.” Doreen had risen to stand behind Sam. She nodded. Sam said everything was set. His words meant nothing. Her nod was what interested me.

Only minutes of life remained to Sam now. I tried to keep from thinking about it. My knees were weak, and my mouth was so dry I wondered if I could get the next words out.

“Okay,” I said. “Come on and we’ll get it over with.”

Doreen started from the room. Her eyes were glinting as if sheened with satin.

Sam sat a moment, shrugged, and got up.

We went down a corridor. Doreen opened a door on a dark room.

We entered and I heeled the door closed. I palmed the gun and pulled it out of my pocket.

Doreen switched on the light.

Sam started. “Hell, this isn’t an office or a den — it’s a bedroom!”

I heard Doreen breathing. “That’s right, Sam,” she said softly.

He turned to look at her, and I let him have it. Another five seconds and the last of my nerve would have been gone. I had to do it then.

The bullet hit him in the left temple, ranged upward, and left a hole the size of a half dollar when it came out of his skull.

And yet he didn’t die immediately. He lived for perhaps five seconds. He twitched, the breath rattled in his throat. He half-turned himself on the carpet where he lay. Then he was dead.

Doreen had watched every bit of it. She was half-kneeling, to watch the final flick of light fade from his face. She rose, and in her face and eyes was a rapt expression.

I felt like shaking at her, yelling at her.

She turned her face toward me, her eyes trying to focus through the fever in them. She didn’t seem to know where she was for a moment. Then she started laughing, low and soft.

“Cut it out!” I said. “Doreen — stop it!”

She brushed her glossy hair away from her temples with both hands. “Hello, Enos. Dear Enos. I feel higher than the proverbial Georgia pine right now. Did you see it, the way death came creeping over him? He fought, Enos. Every cell of him wanted to live. But we had that power over him, didn’t we? The power to smash the life out of him...”

This was the worst moment yet. I felt sweat running down the sides of my face.

I grabbed her by the shoulder and slapped her across the cheek. She didn’t seem to feel the blow, but her eyes cleared a little.

“There’s still a lot to be done,” I said. “We haven’t much time.”

I ripped her blouse across the shoulder and struck her again so that my finger marks were on her cheek. Doreen said nothing.

“I’ve got to make the phone call now,” I said. “Sure you’re okay?”

She nodded. “Give me a cigarette.”

I gave her a cigarette. “Come on,” I said.

She was still looking at Sam over her shoulder as I pulled her from the room.

In the front parlor, I steadied myself and dialed Dolph Crowder’s number.

The sheriff answered on the second ring.

“Dolph,” I said, “this is Enos Mavery. I think you better come out to The Willows right away.”

“What’s the trouble, Enos?”

“I’ve just shot and killed Sam Fickens.”

I heard him take an explosive breath. Then he said in a tight but quiet tone, “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

He was as good as his word. In five minutes he was pounding on the front door. I had used the time to burn and flush into non-existence the papers Sam had brought with him tonight, the papers giving him full control of the company.

I gave Doreen a glance. Her eyes were clear now, her face composed.

I opened the front door just as Dolph started to knock again. He was a thin, long-faced man. Ice blue eyes. Long, sharp nose, razor keen jaw.

“Where is he, Enos?”

“In my wife’s bedroom,” I said. “Here’s the gun.”