Lawrence Block: Ehrengraf Settlement

“Desperate men do desperate things,” he said. “I’m sure he denies everything.”

“Of course. It won’t do him any good. The police came out of this looking very bad, and it’s no help to blame Walter Bainbridge, as he’s beyond their punishment. So they blame Millard for everything Bainbridge did, and for tempting Bainbridge in the first place. They were quite rough with him when they arrested him. You know how on television they always put a hand on a perpetrator’s head when they’re helping him get into the back seat of the squad car?”

“So that he won’t bump his head on the roof.”

“Well, this police detective put his hand on Millard’s head,” she said, “and then slammed it into the roof.”

“I’ve often wondered if that ever happens.”

“I saw it happen, Martin. The policeman said he was sorry.”

“It must have been an accident.”

“Then he did it again.”

“Oh.”

“I wish I had a tape of it,” she said. “I’d watch it over and over.”

The woman had heart, Ehrengraf marveled. Her beauty was exceptional, but ultimately it was merely a component of a truly remarkable spirit. He could think of things to say, but he was content for now to leave them unsaid, content merely to bask in the glow of her presence.

And Alicia seemed comfortable with the silence. Their eyes met, and it seemed to Ehrengraf that their breathing took on the same cadence, deepening their wordless intimacy.

“You don’t want more coffee,” he said at length.

She shook her head.

“The last time you were here—”

“You gave me a Drambuie.”

“Would you like one now?”

“Not just now. Do you know what I almost suggested last time?”

He did not.

“It was after you’d brought me the Drambuie, but before I’d tasted it. The thought came to me that we should go to your bedroom and make love, and afterward we could drink the Drambuie.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No. I knew you wanted me, I could tell by the way you looked at me.”

“I didn’t mean to stare.”

“I didn’t find it objectionable, Martin. It wasn’t a coarse or lecherous look. It was admiring. I found it exciting.”

“I see.”

“Add in the fact that you’re a very attractive man, Martin, and one in whose presence I feel safe and secure, and, well, I found myself overcome by a very strong desire to go to bed with you.”

“My dear lady.”

“But the timing was wrong,” she said. “And how would you take it? Might it seem like a harlot’s trick to bind you more strongly to my service? So the moment came and went, and we drained our little snifters of Drambuie, and I went home to Nottingham Terrace.”

Ehrengraf waited.

“Now everything’s resolved,” she said. “I wanted to give you the check first thing, so that would be out of the way. And we’ve said what we needed to say about my awful husband and that wretched policeman. And I find I want you more than ever. And you still want me, don’t you, Martin?”

“More than ever.”

“Afterward,” she said, “we’ll have the Drambuie.”