Lisa Belknap - Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 6, No. 12, December 1961

“Yes”

“Oh, my God,” the cop said. He went back out and slammed the door. He came back in a short while and sat down across the table from Sarling. “Your brother’s on the way,” he said worriedly.

“Good.”

“Tell me now what it is you’ve done.” He took out a pencil and notebook.

Sarling told him about it. He left out the part about the two women and only said that he had given the money away in a bar. The women were between him and Cindy; it wasn’t important to this man.

“Why did you do it?” the cop asked when he had finished.

“That’s my business.”

“It might help you if we knew why you did it.”

“I don’t want help.”

The policeman looked at him disgustedly and rubbed his hand through his hair. “Anyway,” he said. “You won’t mind signing this statement you just gave me.”

“Sure.” Sarling signed his name in the notebook.

“I don’t know what to do with you,” the cop said.

“Book me, of course.”

“Of course,” the cop said sarcastically. “Your brother will love that”

“You could call the paper. They’d love it, too.”

“And your brother would undoubtedly promote me when I told him I had called the newspaper.”

Sarling spat on the floor. “He’s just the mayor, not God.”

“Yeah. Well, I think I’ll wait till God gets here before I call any paper or book anyone.”

“Have you called Juraska?”

“Who’s he?”

“The manager of the loan company.”

“Oh, yeah. I called him all right. Had to, to find out if you’re telling the truth about stealing that money.”

“What did Juraska say?”

“Said he didn’t believe it.”

“He will.”

“You’re nuts,” the cop said. He went out, swearing.

It was another half hour before Ralph Sarling got to the police station. A policeman started into the room with him but he shut the door. “What’s this all about?” he said.

“Didn’t they tell you?”

“They told me. I want to know why.”

“Can’t you figure that out, brother dear? I mean Your Honor. Mr. Mayor. I’m never quite sure how I’m supposed to address your magnificence.”

“Have your fun. Don’t you know the trouble you’re in?”

“Sure I know. That’s why I did it.”

Ralph Sarling sat down and slammed the table with his fist. “And election only a month away,” he said.

Paul Sarling laughed at his brother. “That’s right, brother. And now this. What chance do you have now of getting elected again?”

“Tell me why you did it.”

“You figure it out. You were always smarter than I. You were always able to see through me. You said that once.”

The policeman who had questioned Paul opened the door and said, “Mr. Mayor, Juraska just came in. The money’s gone all right.”

“Keep him out there. I’ll be right out.” He waited until the door was shut and then said, “I don’t blame you for hating me, but why this way to get back at me?”

Paul lit a cigarette and dropped the match, still burning, on the floor. He didn’t speak until it spluttered and went out. “When you took Cindy away from me, you took everything I had.”

“She was going to leave you anyway. I didn’t take her.”

“I’d have managed to keep her somehow. We were happy together until you started butting in. But you could get her things I couldn’t because you’re a big man. You made a money-hungry witch out of her, Ralph. And then you killed her.”

“It was an automobile accident. I didn’t kill her.”

“How do you think I felt, brother dear? I’ll tell you. I wanted to keep her even after I knew she was having an affair with you. You probably don’t understand that.” He stopped, trembling, and took a drag on his cigarette. “You were always the big man at everything. Football, college. Everything. Well, I hate you for killing her. But most of all I hate you and her too for humiliating me. I think that’s why I stayed with her even after I knew she was running around with you. I didn’t want her any more. Not after that. But you had always had everything and you took her too. I was determined I’d get her back from you. I’d make her want me instead of you. I’d get back my self respect by winning against you in competing for her. And then I’d walk out on her . But I never had the chance. You killed her instead and all I have to remember is the humiliation.” He looked up and smiled. “There were two women in that bar tonight. I did something to them, something humiliating. In a way, that makes me even with Cindy. Now it’s your turn. Try to explain away in your campaign speeches what I did tonight. People won’t blame you, but they’ll laugh at you. And they won’t vote for you. They’ll just laugh at you. See how you like it.”

“You’re stupid,” Ralph Sarling said. “You could go to prison.”

“I’m planning on it. You managed to cover up the fact that you and my wife had been to a motel the night she was killed. At least it was officially covered up, wasn’t it? The fact that a few people know about it doesn’t matter to you. They won’t talk, they’ll just laugh at me. Well, to send me to prison, they have to try me. And I’m looking forward to the trial.” He stood up and looked down at his brother. “How long can I get? Five years maybe. Time off for good behavior. It’s worth it to ruin you.”

Ralph Sarling got up and left the room.

Paul Sarling was shaking but he felt good. He walked to the window and looked out. It was still snowing, even harder now, and he thought it was pretty. The shaking stopped and he felt calm; he hummed a tune under his breath and waited.

It was nearly an hour before his brother came back. Paul was still at the window, looking out. He turned and smiled at his brother. “Well,” he said, “are they ready to book me now?”

“They’re not going to book you.”

“Why not?”

“I gave Juraska my check for the amount you stole and he agreed not to say anything about it. Ten thousand dollars.”

“It was less than five thousand.”

“I figured that. It was worth it to me.”

Sarling felt sick at his stomach. “What about the statement I gave to the police?”

“It’s been destroyed.”

“I won’t let it go,” Sarling shouted.

“You can’t help it. What you did tonight never happened.”

“How did you do it?”

“Money. And I told Juraska you were sick.”

“Crazy, you mean.”

“Whatever you say. You should have figured I could buy you out of it. Ten thousand dollars isn’t much, to save my whole career.”

Sarling sat down at the table and put his head on his arms. “All right,” he said. “You win.”

“You can leave whenever you want to.”

“All right.”

“There’s no reason for this sort of thing. She wasn’t worth it. Why don’t we just talk it over like two grown men?”

“You’ve said that before.” He looked up. “All right,” he said. “Let’s talk it over.”

“You mean it?”

“Why not?”

“Well then, let’s go to my house and have a drink.”

“All right, Ralph, Let’s go to your house and talk about it.”

They went out of the station together, Ralph’s arm around his shoulders. Juraska was already gone and none of the policemen looked at them. Sarling wondered whether, when he was gone, they would laugh at him or pity him.

Ralph made a fire when they reached his house and didn’t turn on any lights. He said they could talk by firelight. Men talk more honestly, he said, when the lights aren’t too bright. “You know,” he said, sipping at his drink, “this is more sensible than hating each other.”