Mickey Spillane - I, The Jury

There was a general scramble for seats and we missed. Charlotte and Myrna spread their handkerchiefs down on the grass along the border of the playing field and we waited while the crowd got six deep behind us. I had never seen a real tennis game, but from what I had seen, I didn’t think there were that many people who liked the game.

There were announcements over a portable loud-speaker and the players took their places. Then they went into action. I had more fun watching the spectators’ heads going back and forth like a bunch of monkeys on sticks than I did the game itself.

These boys were pretty good. They worked up a terrific sweat but they kept after that ball, running themselves ragged. Occasionally there would be a spectacular play and the crowd would let out a cheer. On a high bench, the referee announced the score.

Myrna kept pressing her hand to her head, then between sets she excused herself to Charlotte and me saying that she wanted to go to the cloakroom and get an aspirin.

No sooner had she left when Mary plunked herself down in the same spot beside me and started her routine. I waited for Charlotte to start something, but she merely smiled grimly and let me fight it out myself.

Mary tapped her on the shoulder. “Can I borrow your man a few minutes? I want him to meet some people.”

“Sure, go ahead.” Charlotte winked gaily at me and made believe she was pouting, but she knew she had me. From now on Charlotte had nothing to worry about. Just the same I felt like throttling Mary. Just sitting there had been nice.

We wormed out through the gang who had moved up to take new places and stretch themselves between sets. Mary took me around to the other side, then started walking toward the woods.

“Where’re the people you wanted me to meet?” I asked.

Her hand groped for mine in the darkness. “Don’t be silly,” she answered. “I just want you to myself for a while.”

“Look, Mary,” I explained, “it’s no good. The other night was a mistake. Charlotte and I are engaged. I can’t be fooling around with you. It isn’t fair to either of you.”

She tucked her arm under mine. “Oh, but you don’t have to marry me. I don’t want that. It takes all the fun out of it.”

What was I going to do with a woman like that? “Listen,” I told her, “you’re a nice kid and I like you a lot, but you are a serious complication to me.”

She let my arm go. We were under a tree now, and it was pitch black. I could barely see the outline of her face. The moon which not so long ago had been out in full brilliance had disappeared behind a cloud. I kept talking to her, trying to dissuade her from putting a line on me, but she didn’t answer. She hummed snatches from a tune I heard her breathing in the darkness, but that was all.

When I had about exhausted myself, she said, “Will you kiss me just once more if I promise to let you alone?”

I breathed a little easier. “Sure, honey. Just one more kiss.”

Then I stretched out my arms to hold her to kiss, and I got the shock of my life. The little devil had taken off all her clothes in the darkness.

That kiss was like molten lava. I couldn’t push her away, nor did I want to now. She clung to me like a shadow, squirming and pulling at me. The sound of the crowd cheering the game a hundred yards away dimmed to nothingness and all I could hear was the roaring in my ears.

The game was almost over when we got back. I scrubbed the lipstick away from my mouth and dusted off my clothes. Mary saw her sister and was gracious enough to let me alone for a while, so while I still had the chance I skirted the crowd and tried to find Charlotte. She was where I had left her, only she had gotten tired of sitting down. She and a tall youngster were splitting a coke together. That made me mad.

Hell, I was a fine one to be pulling a jealousy stunt after what I just did. I called to her and she came back to me. “Where have you been?”

“Fighting,” I lied, “fighting for my honor.”

“You look it. How did you make out? Or shouldn’t I ask?”

“I did it all right. It took time though. You been here all the time?”

“Yep. Just like a good little wife, I sit home while my husband is out with other women,” she laughed.

The shout that ended the tennis game came simultaneously with the scream from the house. That scream stifled any cheer that might have been given. It rang out in the night again and again, then dwindled off to a low moan.

I dropped Charlotte’s hand and ran for the house. The colored bartender was standing in the doorway as white as a sheet. He could hardly talk. He pointed up the stairs and I took them two at a time.

The first floor opened on the cloakroom, an affair as big as a small ballroom. The maid was huddled on the floor, out like a light. Beyond her was Myrna, a bullet hole clean through her chest. She still had her hands clutched futilely against her breasts as though to protect herself.

I felt her pulse. She was dead.

Downstairs the crowd was pounding across the lawn. I shouted to the colored boy to shut the doors, then grabbed the phone and got the gatekeeper. I told him to close the gates and not let anyone out, hung up, and dashed downstairs. I picked out three men in overalls whom I had taken for gardeners and asked them who they were.

“Gardener,” one said. The other was a handyman on the estate and the third was his helper.

“Got any guns around here?” They nodded. “Six shot guns and a 30-30 in the library,” the handyman said.

“Then get ’em,” I ordered. “There’s been a murder upstairs and the killer is someplace on the grounds. Patrol the estate and shoot anybody you see trying to get away. Understand?”

The gardener started to argue, but when I pulled my badge on him, he and the others took off for the library, got the guns, returned a minute later and shot out the door.

The crowd was gathered in front. I stepped outside and held up my hand for silence. When I told them what had happened there were a few screams, a lot of nervous talk, and everyone in general had the jitters.

I held up my hand again. “For your own benefit you had better not try to leave. There are men posted with orders to shoot if anyone tries to run for it. If you are wise, you’ll find someone who was standing near by you during the game and have an alibi ready. Only don’t try to dummy one because it won’t work. Stay here on the porch where you can be reached at a moment’s notice.”

Charlotte came in the door, her face white, and asked, “Who was it, Mike?”

“Myrna. The kid has nothing to worry about any more. She’s dead. And I have the killer right under my nose someplace.”

“Can I do something, Mike?”

“Yeah. Get the Bellemy sisters and bring them to me.”

When she went for them I called for the colored boy. Shaking like a leaf he came over to me. “Who came in here?”

“I don’ see nobody, boss. I see one girl come in. I never see her come out ’cause she’s daid upstairs.”

“Were you here all the time?”

“Yassuh. All de time. I watch for the folks to come in heah for a drink. Then I goes to the bar.”

“What about the back door?”

“It’s locked, boss. Only way is in through heah. Don’ nobody come in ’cept de girl. She’s daid.”

“Quit saying that over and over,” I stormed. “Just answer my questions. Did you leave here for a second?”

“Nosuh, boss, not hardly a second.”

“What’s not hardly?”

The darky looked scared. He was afraid to commit himself one way or another. “Come on, speak up.”

“I got me a drink once, boss. Just beer, that’s all. Don’t tell Miss Bellemy.”

“Damn,” I said. That minute was time enough to let a murderer in here.