Маргарет Миллар - Do Evil In Return

“Blake? Yes, I believe I know him too.” He was smiling. “In fact we went to college together. I introduced him to the girl he married.”

“You also introduced him to the idea of calling me up and offering to...”

“Well, don’t get sore about it.”

“I’m not sore. I’m boiling.”

“You ought to be flattered.”

“You planned everything.”

“Not quite everything,” he said dryly. “I underestimated your obstinacy, or whatever quality a woman like you has that makes it impossible for her to see what’s good for her.”

“You’re good for me, are you?”

“I am,” he said. “Ballard isn’t.”

“Please leave him out of this.”

“How can I? You think you’re in love with the man.”

“I think so and I am.”

“You intend to marry him.”

“When it becomes possible, yes, of course I’ll marry him.”

“The thought makes me sick.” He ordered another beer, but when it came he didn’t drink it. He kept tracing a letter with his forefinger on the mist that appeared on the outside of the glass. B, B, and then again, B. “I have an interesting theory about you, Charlotte.”

“Have you?”

“I think the reason you picked Ballard is because you unconsciously wanted to avoid marriage. By falling in love with a man who couldn’t marry you anyway, your problem was solved for you, at least temporarily. Until his wife dies. Or something.”

“What do you mean, or something? ”

“Just or something.” He erased all the B’s from his glass with one swipe of his palm. “People do die, you know. Like Violet.”

She stared at him, her eyes hostile. “If you’re implying that Gwen Ballard might possibly kill herself, I assure you you’re wrong. She isn’t the type.”

“You know her, then?”

“She’s been a patient of mine for a year.”

“Well,” he said. “Well. That’s very interesting. I don’t suppose you’ve ever been tempted to slip a little prussic acid in her cough medicine.”

“No,” she said steadily. “I’ve never been tempted. And I consider the remark incredibly boorish.”

His face had gone suddenly grave. “I’m glad it shocked you. It was intended to. If anything ever hap-pens to Mrs. Ballard, you’ll be hearing lots of remarks like that. You’re asking for them. You’re not only her doctor, you’re her husband’s girlfriend. That’s boorish too, eh?” When she turned away without answering, he added, “I suggest, very seriously, that you turn Mrs. Ballard over to another doctor.”

She was too proud to tell him that she had already tried. “Thanks for the advice.”

“You have a lot to lose, Charlotte. Stop leading with your chin... Now I suppose you’re sore again.”

“I’ve never stopped. You’re simply — simply impossible.”

“Now that’s a silly remark,” Easter said patiently. “I’m the most possible man you know.”

“I want to leave.”

“The door’s open.” He saw her hesitation. “What’s the matter, afraid of the dark?”

“No!”

“Well, go on. Leave.”

“Thanks, I will.”

“By the way if you want to get in touch with me, I’m staying at the Rose Court Motel. That’s where Miss Morris works. I thought it would be a nice place to stay. She’s such an interesting character.”

Charlotte walked to the door. She felt Easter’s eyes on her back, and she wondered if her stocking seams were straight

At the motel, there was a light in Mr. Coombs’s office but the door was closed and the blinds were drawn. A radio was turned on inside, a crime program, Charlotte thought as she drove past and heard the loud, heated voices and the eerie background of organ music.

She parked the Buick in the carport beside Number Four. She was still breathing hard, angrily, as she unlocked the door of the cabin and fumbled for the light switch on the wall. Before her hand reached the switch the light clicked on, as startling as a flash of lightning.

“Surprise,” Voss said with a low satisfied chuckle. “Hey look, Eddie. She’s surprised all right, ain’t she?”

“She sure is.” Eddie grinned self-consciously and stroked the lapel of his green and brown plaid coat. They were both wearing brand-new outfits that were almost identical. Plaid suits, with vests, and brown suede loafers, and ties with the picture of a half-naked woman hand-painted on each.

With a motion so swift that Charlotte had no time to forestall it, Voss reached behind her and slipped the bolt into place across the door.

She didn’t try to unbolt it. She made no physical movement at all.

“Surprised, eh?” Voss repeated. “I kind of thought you would be.”

“Get out,” she said, “or I’ll call the manager.”

Voss made a half-circle around her and sat down on the luggage rack at the foot of the bed. “The manager? That’s a hot one. Why, Coombs is an old school chum of Eddie’s. That’s how we come here. Eddie wanted to drop in on Coombs and say good-bye, and maybe show off his snazzy new outfit.”

“Who’s a show-off?” Eddie muttered. “Say that again. Who’s a show-off?”

“Oh, take a joke, can’t you, and stop interrupting me. Like I was saying, we came to pay Coombs a little social call, and I just happened to glance at the register in his office and see your name. I figured I better wait around and find out what’s your angle.” His eyes roamed the room. “Not a bad little dump, eh, Eddie? But this is peanuts compared to how we’ll be living some day.” His gaze returned to Charlotte and settled there. “We’re leaving the country, Eddie and me.”

“Good.”

“Came up here to say good-bye to the folks, and then we’re heading for better climes, like they say.” He paused, frowning. “Hey, Eddie, take off your hat. Ain’t you got no manners? And offer the lady a chair — she looks like she could use one.”

Eddie took off his hat. He had a new duck-tailed haircut, the kind affected by some of the gangs of juveniles Charlotte had seen on Olive Street.

She said, “I’ll stand, thank you, and Eddie looks better with his hat on.”

“Don’t act so snippy. Remember, we still have some information about you that wouldn’t do you much good if it got around the right circles.” But he didn’t say it threateningly. He was smiling, in fact, and the smile broke into a chuckle, as if he had some secret and wonderful joke. “The right circles. Oh dear, oh dear. I guess my sense of humor gets the best of me sometimes.”

Eddie was laughing too, in a feeble, puzzled way, as if he didn’t know what the joke was, but was willing to go along for the ride.

“Yes, sir,” Voss said. “It’s better climes for Eddie and me.”

“Where did you get the money?”

“We earned it. That’s a good one, eh, Eddie? We earned it.”

The two men began laughing again, gleefully, like a couple of boys who had outwitted a parent.

“I don’t claim to be extra smart,” Voss said at last, wiping his eyes. “Just lucky. For once I was in the right place at the right time and I got the right answers.”

“Answers to what?”

“I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you exactly how it happened. Eddie and me was walking up the street and suddenly the guy in front of us started to toss thousand-dollar bills in the air, and Eddie and me picked them up. How’s that?”

“Fine,” Charlotte said. “I wouldn’t count on those better climes, though.”

“Yeah? Why not?”

“There’s a warrant out for your arrest. Easter’s looking for you.”

“Easter? The cop?”

“Yes.”

Voss’s face crinkled up in incredulity and outraged innocence. “We haven’t done anything. What would he be looking for us for? We’re innocent.”