Fletcher Flora: The First Golden Age of Mystery & Crime MEGAPACK™: 26 Stories by Fletcher Flora

“In that case, what the hell are you after?”

Our eyes came together, locking in the glass, and his, I saw, were darkly swimming with the amused and cynical tolerance that doesn’t come from compassion or conviction, but from a kind of amoral indifference to all standards.

“Nothing that need worry you, if you’re reasonable. Believe me, I feel no compulsion to see you punished merely for killing a man old enough to die.” He lit a cigarette, doing it neatly with a silver lighter. In the mirror, the light flared up across planes and projections, giving his face for a moment the quality of fancy photography. “I’m a tenacious man, Mr. Wren. I know what I want, and I’ll use any available means to get what I want. In the light of yesterday’s events, you should be able to understand that.”

“You’re talking all around it,” I said. “The point, I mean.”

The coal of his cigarette glowed brighter and faded. “I’m thinking about the girl. Cindy, I believe you called her.”

I guess I’d known all along what was coming. I guess I’d known from the instant I looked into the mirror and saw that thin, patrician face with its ancient eyes. Strangely, there was no anger in me. There was only a cold, clear precision of thought: This time it’ll be easy. This time it’ll be fun. Not just a job, like it was with the old man.

“You can go to hell,” I said.

His white teeth showed pleasantly. “My friend, you are the one in peril of going to hell. I can send you with a few words.”

Killing the White Horse and turning to face him directly for the first time, I said, “You’re lousy with dough. You said it yourself. Buy yourself a girl.”

I got off the stool to go, and his hand came out to lie lightly on my sleeve.

“Since she’s involved in this, it might be smart to let Cindy make the decision. She may not be as ready as you for that trip to hell. In case she isn’t, I’ll be here until eleven.”

“You can stay forever,” I said. “You can stay forever and to hell with you.”

I went away without looking at him again, because I was afraid if I looked at him that I couldn’t resist ruining his pretty face. Outside, standing by my convertible in front of the Inn, I felt the cool wind come up off the lake and hit me, and all the strength went out of me. My hands began to tremble, and I clutched the edge of the door. After a long time, I got into the convertible and drove back down the lake road to the lodge.

In the drive, I killed the motor and sat quietly under the wheel. Beyond the timber, a cold slice of moon was rising. In the lodge, all lights were out except the one in the room where Cindy slept. Cindy, Cindy, Cindy. Golden, sultry Cindy. The thought of her and Evan Lane brought the hot trembling back into my body, and I gripped the wheel until I was quiet.

I’d kill him, of course. I’d kill him, and it would be a pleasure. It would be the greatest pleasure I’d ever have on earth, except the pleasure that Cindy brought. Thinking of it clearly that way made me feel better, almost uplifted, and I got out of the convertible and went into the lodge and up to the room with the light burning.

Cindy was in bed with a book open, but I could tell she hadn’t been reading. I stood leaning against the door, looking across at her, and pretty soon, she said, “I heard you drive up several minutes ago.”

“Yes,” I said. “I’ve been sitting down there thinking. I’ve been thinking about how to kill a man.”

“No, Tony. Not again.”

“It’s the only way. I’ve always heard that one murder begets another, and I guess that’s the way it is.”

“We’ll have money, Tony. Lots of money. We can pay.”

“Like you said, he’d bleed us. He’d bleed us as long as we lived. Besides, he’s got money. He isn’t interested in getting any more.”

“What does he want?”

“He wants you.”

Her eyes dilated, and the breath rattled in her throat. I watched her lips come open and bright color creep under gold, and I thought again of the pleasure of killing Evan Lane.

“What do you mean, Tony?”

“Just what I said, honey. He wants you. The same way I want you. The same way any man who looks at you this side of eighty must want you. He’s the guy with the telescope. Remember?”

She came out of the bed in a mist of white nightgown that barely existed, and I went to meet her. Against my shoulder, she said, “What now, Tony? What’ll we do?”

“I told you, honey. I’ll kill him before the night’s over.”

“No. We’ll find another way, Tony. There is another way.”

“There is, honey. The way he wants. Is it the way you want?”

“It’d be better than prison, Tony. Better than the death house.”

I dug my fingers into her arms until she gasped with pain.

“Don’t say that, Cindy. Don’t.”

“I’m thinking of us, Tony. You and me and the big dream. Are we going to throw it all away because some louse wants a cheap experience? We can’t do that now.”

“We won’t throw anything away. If he wants an experience, he can die. Dying’s the biggest experience of all.”

“It’ll point. Oh, Tony, can’t you see? Two deaths like that, the location of his lodge, all the things together. Together, they’ll point right back at us. They’ll dig it all out. Besides, maybe he’s already on his way to the sheriff.”

I shook my head. “No. He’s at the Inn waiting for you. He said he’d wait until eleven.”

“I’d better go, Tony. I’d better go see him. Maybe we can work it out short of what he really wants.”

“No. Not a prayer. If you saw him, you’d know.”

“Give me a chance, Tony.”

“There isn’t any chance.”

“I don’t want to die, Tony. I don’t want you to die. If we have to kill him, let it be later. Let it be when the time’s exactly right. Oh, Tony, give me a chance to save us.” Her golden flesh burned through the white mist, but I was suddenly spent and impotent, and I turned and went away to my own room and lay down in the darkness.

After a while, I heard the convertible come to life below my window and move off down the drive.

I kept on lying there in the darkness.

There was no warmth in the sun, and the wind blowing in across the lake was very cold. The timber stood naked against the sky above its fallen leaves.

In her room, Cindy was packing. I went in and closed the door and stood leaning against it.

“Going somewhere, Cindy?”

“Yes. Back to town. Summer’s over, and it’s getting cold, and it’s time to go back.”

“Going alone, Cindy?”

“Please, Tony. We’ve been over it all so often. You know how it is.”

“Sure,” I said. “Like you said a long time ago, you’re saving us. Two months ago, Cindy. A long time.” She kept going back and forth between the closet and her bag, not looking at me. She was wearing brown velvet pajamas with six inches of golden skin between the pants and the top, and the effect of the brown velvet and the golden skin was a matter of shading that made my heart ache.

“You’re going with Evan. Evan, the pretty blackmailer.”

“It’s for us, Tony. For you and me.”

“I know. That’s what I keep telling myself. She’s making a big sacrifice, I keep telling myself. But now maybe it’s time to let Evan Lane start sacrificing. Maybe it’s time now to let him make the big sacrifice for us, the same way Grandfather made it.”

She stopped halfway to the bag and turned toward me, holding in her hands a scarlet cashmere sweater that was like a great soft splash of blood against the brown velvet.

“He’s got us, Tony. However much we hate him, he’s got us, and you know it.”