Lawrence Block - Hit Parade

“And you’d never have to, if I’d borne in mind the old rule about not crapping where we eat. You know what it was, Keller? There were two reasons to turn the job down, because it was in New York and because it was a dog, and what I did, I let the two of them cancel each other out. My apologies. Still, a question arises.”

“Oh?”

“How much was in the bag?”

“Twenty-five.”

“I hope that’s twenty-five thousand.”

“It is.”

“Because the way things have been going, it could have been twenty-five hundred.”

“Or just plain twenty-five.”

“That’d be a stretch. So the whole package is thirty-five. It’s still a hard way to get rich. What’s she got against Evelyn, anyway? It can’t be that she’s pissed she didn’t get to go to the airport.”

“Her husband’s been having an affair with Evelyn.”

“Oh. I thought it was Evelyn’s husband that was fooling around.”

“I thought so, too. I guess the Upper West Side ’s a hotbed of adultery.”

“And here I always figured it was all concerts and dairy restaurants. What are you going to do, Keller?”

“I’ve been wondering that myself.”

“I bet you have. A certain amount of damage control would seem to be indicated. I mean, two of them have seen your face.”

“I know.”

“And one of them followed you home. Which doesn’t mean you can keep her, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t.”

“I hope not. I gather both of them are reasonably attractive.”

“So?”

“And they’re probably attracted to you. A dangerous man, a mysterious character-how can they resist you?”

“I don’t think they’re interested,” he said, “and I know I’m not.”

“How about the dog owner? The one who looks like a dominatrix.”

“I’m not interested in her, either.”

“Well, I’m relieved to hear it. You think you can find a way to make all of this go away?”

“I was ready to give back the money,” he said, “but we’re past that point. I’ll think of something, Dot.”

Just as Kellerreached to knock on the door, it opened. Evelyn Augenblick, wearing a pants suit and a white blouse and a flowing bow tie, stood there beaming at him. “It’s you,” she said. “Thank God. Quick, so I can shut the door.”

She did so, and turned to him, and he saw something he had somehow failed to notice before. She had a gun in her hand, a short-barreled revolver.

Keller didn’t know what to make of it. She’d seemed relieved to see him, so what was the gun for? To shoot him? Or was she expecting somebody else, against whom she felt the need to defend herself?

And should he take a step toward her and swat the gun out of her hand? That would probably work, but if it didn’t…

“I guess you saw the ad,” she said.

The ad? What ad?

“‘ Paul Niebauer, Please Get in Touch .’ On the front page of the New York Times , one of those tiny ads at the very bottom of the page. I always wondered if anybody read those ads. But you didn’t, I can see by the look on your face. How did you know to come here?”

How indeed? “I just had a feeling,” he said.

“Well, I’m glad you did. I didn’t know how else to reach you, because I didn’t want to go through the usual channels. And it was important that I see you.”

“The gun,” he said.

She looked at him.

“You’re holding a gun,” he said.

“Oh,” she said, and looked at her hand, as if surprised to discover a gun in it. “That’s for you,” she said, and before he could react she handed the thing to him. He didn’t want it, but neither did he want her to have it. So he took it, noting that it was a.38, and a loaded one at that.

“What’s this for?” he asked.

She didn’t exactly answer. “It belongs to my husband,” she said. “It’s registered. He has a permit to keep it on the premises, and that’s what he does. He keeps it in the drawer of his bedside table. For burglars, he says.”

“I don’t really think it would be useful to me,” he said. “Since it’s registered to your husband, it would lead right back to you, which is the last thing we’d want, and-”

“You don’t understand.”

“Oh.”

“This isn’t for Fluffy.”

“It’s not?”

“No,” she said. “I don’t really care about Fluffy. Killing Fluffy won’t bring Rilke back. And it’s not so bad with Rilke gone, anyway. He was a beautiful dog, but he was really pretty stupid, and it was a pain in the ass having to walk him twice a day.”

“Oh.”

“So the gun has nothing to do with Fluffy,” she explained. “The gun’s for you to use when you kill my husband.”

“Damnedest thingI ever heard of,” Dot said. “And that covers a lot of ground. Well, she’d said her husband was running around on her. So she wants you to kill him?”

“With his own gun.”

“Suicide?”

“Murder-suicide.”

“Where does the murder come in?”

“I’m supposed to stage it,” he said, “so that it looks as though he shot the woman he was having an affair with, then turned the gun on himself.”

“The woman he’s having the affair with.”

“Right.”

“Don’t tell me, Keller.”

“Okay.”

“Keller, that’s an expression. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to know. But I have a feeling I know already. Am I right, Keller?”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s her, isn’t it? Myra Tannenbaum.”

“Just Tannen.”

“Whatever. They both fly you in from the Windy City to kill a dog, and now neither one really gives a hoot in hell about the dog, and each one wants you to kill the other. How much did this one give you?”

“Forty-two thousand dollars.”

“Forty-two thousand dollars? How did she happen to arrive at that particular number, do you happen to know?”

“It’s what she got for her jewelry.”

“She sold her jewelry so she could get her husband killed? I suppose it’s jewelry her husband gave her in the first place, don’t you think? Keller, this is beginning to have a definite ‘Gift of the Magi’ quality to it.”

“She was going to give me the jewelry,” he said, “since it was actually worth quite a bit more than she got for it, but she figured I’d rather have the cash.”

“Amazing. She actually got something right. Didn’t you tell me Myra Tannen’s husband was having the affair with Evelyn?”

“That’s what she told me, but it may have been a lie.”

“Oh.”

“Or maybe each of them is having an affair with the other’s husband. It’s hard to say for sure.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t know what to do, Dot.”

“Keller, neither of us has known what to do from the jump. I assume you took the money.”

“And the gun.”

“And now you still don’t know what to do.”

“As far as I can see, there’s only one thing I can do.”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, in that case, I guess you’ll just have to go ahead and do it.”

Myra Tannen livedin a brownstone, which meant there was no doorman to deal with. There was a lock, but Evelyn had provided a key, and at two-thirty the following afternoon, Keller tried it in the lock. It turned easily, and he walked in and climbed four flights of stairs. There were two apartments on the top floor, and he found the right door and rang the bell.

He waited, and rang a second time, and followed it up with a knock. Finally he heard footsteps, and then the sound of the cover of the peephole being drawn back. “I can’t see anything,” Myra Tannen said.

He wasn’t surprised; he’d covered the peephole with his palm. “It’s me,” he said. “The man you sat next to in the park.”