At first I couldn't see a thing; it was that dark. But gradually my eyes became used to it. I could see all I needed to see. I opened the trunk compartment and located a tire tool. Taking a rusty spike from my pocket, I drove it into the right rear tire. There was a poof! and a whish-ss! The springs squeaked and whined as the car settled rapidly.
I got a jack under the axle, and raised it a foot or so. I rocked the car and slid it off the jack. I left it that way and headed up the lane.
It took maybe five minutes to reach the house and pull a plank from the porch. I leaned it against the gate post where I could find it in a hurry, and headed across the fields to Joyce's house.
"Lou!" She stood back from the door, startled. "I couldn't imagine who-where's your car? Is something wrong?"
"Nothing but a flat tire," I grinned. "I had to leave the car down the road a piece."
I sauntered into the living room, and she came around in front of me, gripping her arms around my back and pressing her face against my shirt. Her negligee fell open, accidentally on purpose I imagine. She moved her body against mine.
"Lou, honey…"
"Yeah?" I said.
"It's only about nine and Stupid won't be here for another hour, and I won't see you for two weeks. And… well, you know."
I knew. I knew how that would look in an autopsy.
"Well, I don't know, baby," I said. "I'm kind of pooped out, and you're all prettied up-"
"Oh, I am not!" She squeezed me. "I'm always prettied up to hear you tell it. Hurry, so I can have my bath."
Bath. That made it okay. "You twisted my arm, baby," I said, and I swept her up and carried her into the bedroom. And, no, it didn't bother me a bit.
Because right in the middle of it, right in the middle of the sweet talk and sighing, she suddenly went still and pushed my head back and looked me in the eye.
"You will join me in two weeks, Lou? Just as soon as you sell your house and wind up your affairs?"
"That's the understanding," I said.
"Don't keep me waiting. I want to be sweet to you, but if you won't let me I'll be the other way. I'll come back here and raise hell. I'll follow you around town and tell everyone how you-"
"— robbed you of your bloom and cast you aside?" I said.
"Crazy!" she giggled. "But just the same, Lou…"
"I know. I won't keep you waiting, baby."
I lay on the bed while she had her bath. She came back in from it, wiping herself with a big towel, and got some panties and a brassiere out of a suitcase. She stepped into the panties, humming, and brought the brassiere over to me. I helped her put it on, giving her a pinch or two, and she giggled and wiggled.
I'm going to miss you, baby, I thought. You've got to go, but I'm sure going to miss you.
"Lou… You suppose Elmer will make any trouble?"
"I already told you," I said. "What can he do? He can't squawk to his Dad. I'll tell him I changed my mind, and we'll have to keep faith with the old man. And that'll be that."
She frowned. "It seems so-oh, so complicated! I mean it looks like we could have got the money without dragging Elmer into it."
"Well…" I glanced at the clock.
Nine-thirty-three. I didn't need to stall any longer. I sat up beside her, swinging my feet to the floor; casually drawing on my gloves.
"Well, I'll tell you, baby," I said. "It is kind of complicated, but it has to be that way. You've probably heard the gossip about Mike Dean, my foster brother? Well, Mike didn't do that. He took the blame for me. So if you should do your talking around town, it would be a lot worse than you realized. People would start thinking, and before it was all over..
"But, Lou. I'm not going to say anything. You're going to join me and-"
"Better let me finish," I said. "I told you how Mike fell from that building? Only he didn't fall; he was murdered. Old man Conway arranged it and-"
"Lou"-she didn't get it at all. "I won't let you do anything to Elmer! You mustn't, honey. They'll catch you and you'll go to jail and-oh, honey, don't even think about it!"
"They won't catch me," I said. "They won't even suspect me. They'll think he was half-stiff, like he usually is, and you got to fighting and both got killed."
She still didn't get it. She laughed, frowning a little at the same time. "But, Lou-that doesn't make sense. How could I be dead when-"
"Easy," I said, and I gave her a slap. And still she didn't get it.
She put a hand to her face and rubbed it slowly. "Y-you'd better not do that, now, Lou. I've got to travel, and-"
"You're not going anywhere, baby," I said, and I hit her again.
And at last she got it.
She jumped up and I jumped with her. I whirled her around and gave her a quick one-two, and she shot backwards across the room and bounced and slumped against the wall. She staggered to her feet, weaving, mumbling, and half-fell toward me. I let her have it again.
I backed her against the wall, slugging, and it was like pounding a pumpkin. Hard, then everything giving away at once. She slumped down, her knees bent under her, her head hanging limp; and then, slowly, an inch at a time, she pushed herself up again.
She couldn't see; I don't know how she could. I don't know how she could stand or go on breathing. But she brought her head up, wobbling, and she raised her arms, raised them and spread them and held them out. And then she staggered toward me, just as a car pulled into the yard.
"Guhguh-guhby… kiss guhguh-guh-"
I brought an uppercut up from the floor. There was a sharp cr-aack! and her whole body shot upward, and came down in a heap. And that time it stayed down.
I wiped my gloves on her body; it was her blood and it belonged there. I took the gun from the dresser, turned off the light and closed the door.
Elmer was coming up the steps, crossing the porch. I got to the front door and opened it.
"Hiya, Lou, ol' boy, ol' boy, ol' boy," he said. "Right on time, huh? Thass Elmer Conway, always right on time."
"Half-stiff," I said, "that's Elmer Conway. Have you got the money?"
He patted the thick brown folder under his arm. "What's it look like? Where's Joyce?"
"Back in the bedroom. Why don't you go on back? I'll bet she won't say no if you try to slip it to her."
"Aw," he blinked foolishly."Aw, you shouldn't talk like that, Lou. You know we're gonna get married."
"Suit yourself," I shrugged. "I'd bet money though that she's all stretched out waiting for you."
I wanted to laugh out loud. I wanted to yell. I wanted to leap on him and tear him to pieces.
"Well, maybe…"
He turned suddenly and lumbered down the hall. I leaned against the wall, waiting, as he entered the bedroom and turned on the light.
I heard him say, "Hiya, Joyce, ol' kid, ol' ol' ol' k-k-k.. I heard a heavy thump, and a gurgling, strangled sound. Then he said, he screamed, "Joyce… Joyce… Lou!"
I sauntered back. He was down on his knees and there wasblood on his hands, and a big streak across his chin where he'd wiped it. He looked up at me, his mouth hanging open.
I laughed-I had to laugh or do something worse-and his eyes squeezed shut and he bawled. I yelled with laughter, bending over and slapping my legs. I doubled up, laughing and farting and laughing some more. Until there wasn't a laugh in me or anyone. I'd used up all the laughter in the world.
He got to his feet, smearing his face with his big flabby hands, staring at me stupidly.
"W-who did it, Lou?"
"It was suicide," I said. "A plain case of suicide."
"B-but that d-don't make-"
"It's the only thing that does make sense! It was the way it was, you hear me? Suicide, you hear me? Suicide suicide suicide! I didn't kill her. Don't you say I killed her. SHE KILLED HERSELF!"