Claggett said he felt the same way, and he jerked a thumb at Bannerman and told him to beat it. The latter said he’d like to; there was nothing he’d like to do more. But he just didn’t see how he could do it.
“I used practically every cent I had comin’ down here. And that ol’ car of mine ain’t gonna go much farther, without some work bein’ done on it. I want t’get back home; these here big cities ain’t for me. But—”
“Save it,” Claggett said curtly. “You’ve probably got half of the first nickel you ever made, but I’ll give you a stake to get rid of you. Nolton.” He gestured to Kay. “Get him in his car, and see that he stays in it till I come out.”
“Yes, sir! Come on, you!”
She hustled my father-in-law out of the room, and the front door opened then closed behind them.
I gave Claggett my heartfelt thanks for the way he had handled things and promised to pay back whatever money he gave my father-in-law.
“No problem.” He dismissed the matter. “But tell me, Britt. I was just bluffing, of course, trying to shake him up, but do you suppose he and your wife did try to kill you?”
“What for?” I said. “I was willing to get out of their lives. I still am. Why should they risk a murder rap just because they hated me?”
“Well, hatred has been the motive for a lot of murders.”
“Not with people like them,” I said. “Not unless it would make them something. I’ll tell you, Jeff, I don’t see them risking a nickel to see the Holy Ghost do a skirt dance.”
He grinned. Then, again becoming thoughtful, he raised another question.
“Why is your wife so opposed to divorce, d’you suppose? I know you’ll give her money as long as you have it to give, but—”
“Money doesn’t seem to have anything to do with it,” I said. “She was that way right from the beginning, when I didn’t have a cent and it didn’t look like I ever would have. I just don’t know.” I shook my head. “There was a little physical attraction between us at one time, very little. But that didn’t last, and we never had any other interests in common.”
“Well.” Claggett shrugged. “Bannerman was right about one thing. A woman doesn’t have to give a reason for not wanting a divorce.”
We talked about other matters for a few minutes, i.e., Mrs. Olmstead, my work for PXA, and the prospects for suing over the condemnation of my land. Then he went back to Bannerman again, wondering why the latter had caved in so quickly when he, Claggett, had threatened to call the Underwriters Bureau.
“Why didn’t he try to bluff it out, Britt? Just tell me to go ahead and check? He had nothing to lose by it, and I might have backed down.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Is it important?”
“We-el...” He hesitated, frowning. “Yes, I think it might be. And I think it bears on the reason for your wife’s not giving you a divorce. Don’t ask me why. It’s just a hunch. But...”
His voice died away. I looked at his troubled face, and again I felt that icy tingling at my spine — a warning of impending doom. And even as he was rising to leave, a pall seemed to descend on the decaying elegance of the ancient Rainstar mansion.
28
Claggett drove off toward town to get some money for my father-in-law, Bannerman following him in his rattletrap old vehicle. Kay came back into the house.
While she prepared dinner for the two of us, I cleaned up the mess Luther Bannerman had left and carried the dishes out into the kitchen. She glanced at me as I took clean silver and plates from the cupboard, asked if I was still mad at her. I said I never had been — I’d simply tried to set her straight on where we stood. Moreover, I said, I was grateful to her for the several jolts she had given my father-in-law.
She said that had been a pleasure. “But if you’re not mad, why do you look so funny, Britt? So kind of down-in-the-mouth?”
“Maybe it’s because of seeing him,” I said. “He always did depress me. On the other hand...”
I left the sentence hanging, unable to explain why I felt as I did, the all-pervading gloom that had settled over me. Kay said she was sort of down-in-the-dumps herself, for some reason.
“Maybe it’s this dam old house,” she said. “Just staying inside here day after day. The ceilings are so high that you can hardly see them. The staircase goes up and up, and it’s always dark and shadowy. You feel like you’re climbing one of those mountains that are always covered with clouds. There are always a lot of funny noises, like someone was sneaking up behind you. And...”
I laughed, cutting her off. The house was home to me, and it had never struck me as being gloomy or depressing.
“We both need a good stiff drink,” I said. “Hold the dinner a few minutes, and I’ll do the honors.”
I couldn’t find any booze; Mrs. Olmstead apparently had finished it all off. But I dug up a bottle of pretty fair wine, and we had some before dinner and with it.
We ate and drank, and Kay asked how much Mrs. Olmstead had stolen from me. I said I would have to wait until tomorrow morning to find out.
“It really doesn’t bother me a hell of a lot,” I added. “If she hadn’t gotten it, my wife would have.”
“Oh, yes. She tore up the checks you sent your wife, didn’t she?”
“That’s right,” I said.
“Well, uh, look, Britt...” She paused delicately. “I’ve got some money saved. Quite a bit, actually. So if you’d like to—”
I said, “Thanks, I appreciate the offer. But I can get by all right.”
“Well, uh, yes. I suppose. But—” Another delicate pause. “How about your wife, Britt? How much do you think she’d want to give you a divorce?”
I told her to forget it. Connie had apparently made up her mind not to give me a divorce on any terms, and there was no use in discussing it.
“I don’t know why. Perhaps she has a reason, and I’m too stupid to see it. But—” I laughed suddenly, then quickly apologized. “I’m sorry, Kay. I just thought of a story my great-grandfather used to tell me. Would you care to hear it?”
“I’d love to,” she said, in a tone that gave the lie to her statement.
But I told it to her, anyway.
There was once a handsome young Indian chief who married a maiden from a neighboring tribe.
She was neither fair of figure or face, and her disposition was truly ugly. Never did she have a kind word to say to her husband. Never was he able to do anything that pleased her. She was simply a homely shrew, through and through. And the tribe’s other squaws and braves wondered why they remained together as husband and wife.
The days passed, and the months, and the years.
Finally, when the chief was a very old man, he died.
His wife laughed joyously at his funeral, having inherited his many ponies and buffalo hides and other such wealth. And this, his wealth, was her reason, of course, for marrying him and remaining with him for so many years.
Kay stared at me, frowning. I looked at her deadpan, and she shook her head bewilderedly.
“That’s the end of the story? What’s the point?”
“I just told you,” I said. “She married him and stuck with him for his dough. Or the Indian equivalent thereof.”
“But — but, dam it! Why did he marry her?”
“Because he was stupid,” I said. “His whole tribe was stupid.”
“Wha-aat?”
“Why, sure,” I said. “A lot of Indians are stupid. That’s why we wound up in the shape we’re in today.”