Killing Cousins

Six

After he was gone, the day stretched out forever. It would simply be impossible, she thought, to do nothing but sit around the house and wait for night to come and Quincy to come back, and so she began to think of things to do, and the first thing to do, she decided, was to dress. She locked the bathroom door from inside Howard’s room, and then she left through the door into the hall, carefully not looking at Howard while she was leaving, and locked the hall door with a key from the outside. It would now be impossible for anyone to wander into the room, which would have been possible before, if unlikely, and she carried the key to her own room and put it into her little jewel box on the dressing table. She then removed the thin blue gown and went into the bathroom and had a shower, hot and cold, and she had the queerest feeling, which was rather frightening, that the sound of the shower would surely waken Howard, and that he would be, if she were to open the door and look into his room, standing and yawning and scratching in the rather revolting way he always did after waking.

Because of this feeling she did not stay in the shower as long as she would have otherwise. In her bedroom, after drying on a huge woolly towel, she dressed in a white jersey pull-over blouse, a kind of T-shirt, and a pair of bright red Capri pants to match her toenails. She was trying her best to be cheerful and to look on the bright side of things, but in spite of her best efforts she kept feeling more and more depressed, and even the considerable amount of money she had acquired, or salvaged, thanks to Quincy, was not enough to leaven her depression appreciably. She took the money out of the envelope and counted it, but it was no use, it did not help much at the moment, and so she put it back into the envelope and the envelope into a drawer of her dressing table.

She began thinking about what to do next, and she remembered all at once the little gun with which she’d shot Howard. She had carried it into the room with her last night, and there it was on the table by the bed, and it would be wise to clean it and put it away, or perhaps even wiser to dispose of it entirely. The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that the latter would indeed be the wiser. The safest thing to do, she thought, would be to bury the gun with Howard that night, although there really didn’t seem to be any reason why the gun should ever become an issue if it was never known that Howard had been shot. Nevertheless, it was just as well to be as careful as possible and to anticipate contingencies. It would not be necessary, in any event, to do anything about the gun until it was time to do something about Howard, and this was certainly a relief, for it was something she didn’t relish doing.

The truth was, the presence of Howard was becoming oppressive. Being so close, just beyond the bathroom, he persisted in being thought of, and she was constantly aware of him lying in there on the floor with his muscular proteins coagulating. Or were they, by this time, uncoagulating? Well, either way, coagulating or uncoagulating, Howard’s muscular proteins were not pleasant to think about, and she wished that it were possible to remove Howard from the house immediately, instead of tonight, but it wasn’t, of course, for obvious reasons. The next best thing would be to remove herself, which was possible, and she began to think about going somewhere, and where, specifically, she could go.

While considering this, she went downstairs into the kitchen and got some ice out of the refrigerator and carried it in a little pink plastic bucket into the living room. She put some of the ice into a mixing glass, which she took from a liquor cabinet, and added four parts of gin to one part of vermouth. She stirred this briefly with a glass rod, and it came out a big Martini, which she began to drink slowly a small sip at a time. The Martini was refreshing, an important quality of Martinis in general, and she was feeling much better when the telephone began to ring. Carrying the Martini, she went out into the hall and answered the telephone, and it was Mother Hogan again.

“Willie,” Mother Hogan said, “has Howard returned yet?”

“No,” Willie said, “he hasn’t.”

“Have you made any effort to find out where he went?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“I must say that you seem strangely indifferent.”

“Well, he took three bags with him, and so I assume that he went quite a long way to stay quite a long while.”

“What I want to know, Willie, is what you did to drive poor Howard away.”

“I didn’t do anything to him. He simply packed and left after saying the nastiest kind of things that were all untrue.”

“What things exactly?”

“Never mind. I don’t care to repeat them.”

“Howard has been very fair all his life, even as a small boy, and it’s my opinion that he must have had a good reason for saying anything he said.”

“You may think as you please about it, but I have this splitting headache, and I prefer not to discuss it with you.”

“Don’t think you can avoid your responsibilities, Willie. Honestly, you have not turned out a bit better than I thought you would. It seems to me that you have been treated exceedingly well for a girl with little to offer in return, and the least you could do is show a little appreciation and the proper concern for Howard. It would serve you right if he didn’t come back at all.”

“As to that,” Willi said, “I’m not at all sure that he will, and I’m not sure, either, that I give a damn if he doesn’t.”

Mother Hogan whinnied and hung up with a bang, and Willie hung up afterward and drank what was left of her Martini and went back into the living room to see if there was any left in the mixing glass. There was some left, all right, and she poured it and drank it. She was feeling better because of the Martini, and better still because of having told off Mother Hogan, who had it coming to her, the fat bitch, and she began to wonder if she should mix some more gin and vermouth in the mixing glass, or if she should, instead, call someone, a friend, and arrange for lunch downtown. If she went downtown, however, she would have to change clothes, which would be a bother, and besides, she couldn’t think of any friend she particularly wanted to meet. Another thing, she would have to open the garage door to back the station wagon out, and it was possible that someone might come by at that moment and see the Buick in the garage, where it was parked, and that would spoil Quincy’s plan to get rid of the Buick quietly and pretend that Howard had driven away in it. She felt quite proud of herself for having thought of that, the possible consequences of opening the garage door, even for a minute or two, and it showed, she thought, that she was self-possessed and almost as clever as Quincy himself.

It was a bright, sunny day outside, as she could see through the living-room windows, but it didn’t look very hot, and it was apparent from the way the leaves of the trees were moving that there was a breeze from the southwest. She thought that it might be pleasant to sit on the back terrace for a while, especially if she had another Martini or two to drink while sitting, and so she mixed some more gin and vermouth and went out the back way to the terrace, carrying the mixing glass in one hand and her cocktail glass in the other. She sat in a striped canvas chair under a striped umbrella, and she had sat there long enough to drink one whole Martini slowly when she thought she saw a flash of movement and color through the leaves of the high hedge that separated the Hogan yard from the yard of the house next door, which was the house owned and occupied by Marvin and Gwendolyn Festerwauld. Willie stood up and walked over to the hedge, about fifty feet, and peeked through.

It was Gwen over there on the other side. She was lying on her stomach in the sun on a yellow pad, nearly naked in nothing but a couple of scraps of white. Gwen thought she had a superior and exciting figure, and she went nearly naked at every opportunity, but Willie didn’t think Gwen’s figure was really exceptional at all, and as a matter of fact it was rather ridiculously exaggerated in places. It had to be admitted that men seemed to find Gwen’s figure exciting, and Willie had heard comments to that effect from various sources, but then, of course, men were inclined to find almost anything exciting if it was nearly naked. Anyhow, regardless of her figure, Gwen was someone to talk to at the moment, and someone to talk to was what Willie was beginning to want and need. Besides, it would be an opportunity to develop the deception that Howard had gone away last night, after coming home from the Club, and it was important to have that idea spread and accepted as widely as possible in view of the fact that Howard was certainly gone and certainly wasn’t coming back and would have to be satisfactorily explained. Again feeling proud because she was thinking so clearly and was contributing her share to the successful execution of Quincy’s plan, Willie walked down along the hedge and around it and up into the Festerwauld’s yard where Gwen was lying. “Hello, Gwen,” she said.

Gwen rolled over and sat up, leaving the upper scrap of white lying detached on the yellow pad. Picking up the scrap, she held it casually in front of the place it was supposed to go. Her eyes were foggy and did not seem to focus properly, and the skin beneath the eyes had a bruised and baggy look. She looked, altogether, like a bad day after a hard night.

“Oh, it’s you, Willie,” she said. “How are you?”

“Considering everything, I’m pretty well. And you?”

“Well, considering everything, I feel damn lucky to be alive. Or do I? Perhaps I’d be better off dead.”

“Why don’t you try a very cold Martini?”

“Jesus, Willie, do you want me to die immediately?”

“Nothing of the sort. It would make you feel much better. I’ve had two or three myself, and I’m as good as ever. I’ll mix you one if you like.”

“No, thanks. I prefer to recover, if I must, in my own way. What I need is about eighteen straight hours of sleep, but it’s impossible to sleep at all while my damn head is simply bursting.”

She fell back and folded an arm over her eyes, and Willie sat down Indian fashion on the pad beside her. Marv and Gwen had been in the impromptu party at the Club last night, and Marv had certainly been feeling his oats, as well as other things, some of which belonged to Willie. Willie had danced with him several times and could personally testify to this.

“Did the party last long last night after I left?” Willie said. “It didn’t last long at the Club,” Gwen said, “but it moved on somewhere else and lasted for hours.”

“Where did you go?”

“I don’t remember clearly, but it was someplace outside of town on the highway. There were some rough characters there who kept making snide remarks, and finally Gus Wilhite challenged one of them to a fight. They went outside and knocked each other around a little, and this seemed to clear the air and satisfy everybody, for after that everything was all right. I danced several times with a fellow who said he drove a truck for someone or other, and he wanted me to leave with him and go somewhere else, but of course I couldn’t, with Marv there and all, and I can see, now that I’m sober, that it was for the best. God, Willie, it’s simply incredible what one will do when one has had a few too many drinks.”

“Yes, it is. It’s also incredible who one will do it with.”

“God, yes. Imagine a truck driver if you can!”

“Were you tempted to leave with him?”

“I was tempted, but fortunately, as I said, I couldn’t.”

“How did Gus come out?”

“Gus? Come out of what?”

“Well, Gwen, you just said he challenged a rough fellow to a fight, and they went outside and knocked each other around.”

“Oh, that. Gus came out all right. He received a small cut at the corner of his mouth and possibly a loose tooth, but he wasn’t especially concerned. Gus is tough, you know. He keeps in good shape by spending almost all his time swimming and playing golf and tennis.”

“What time did you get home?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea, except that it was getting daylight. By that time I merely wanted to fall right over dead in bed, but Marv was getting sober and mean, as he always does, and he absolutely insisted on picking foolish quarrels and shouting at me at the top of his voice. Did you by any chance hear him?”

“No.”

“Well, with all the windows closed because of air conditioning, I don’t suppose you could. Anyhow, he kept quarreling and making silly accusations concerning me and certain other men, and after an hour or so he took a cold shower and dressed and went downstairs, but by then he had succeeded in keeping me awake until my head was bursting, and it was no longer possible to sleep. I tried and tried for ages, but I couldn’t, and so I finally put on my bikini and came down here to lie in the sun.”

“What’s become of Marv?”

“Oh, he had this eight o’clock appointment at his office with someone about something. It was important, he said, so he had to keep it. When he left he was feeling pretty sick and subdued, no longer inclined at all to shout and make accusations. I really felt rather sorry for the poor bastard, to tell the truth, but of course it’s insane to waste any sympathy on him. After his appointment is over, he’ll close his office and go to sleep and come home later, about five or so, as if he had behaved all along with perfect decency.”

Willie sighed and shifted her position, hugging her knees beneath her chin.

“You’re fortunate,” she said, “that matters will be settled so easily between you. As for me, it seems that I’ve been left for good.”

Gwen unfolded her arm and sat up again abruptly. The movement must have caused her considerable distress, for she winced and closed her eyes and pressed the heels of her hands against her temples. After a moment, she shuddered and opened her eyes and stared at Willie with all the curiosity her condition permitted.

“What did you say?” she said. “Been left?”

“That’s what I said.”

“By Howard, you mean?”

“Of course by Howard. Who else, I’d like to know, could I be left by? Your mind is certainly not working well today, Gwen, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“If it were working like a watch, Willie, I’d still find it difficult to believe that Howard would do anything so decisive. No doubt he’s only bluffing and will be home soon.”

“I wish I could think so, but I can’t.”

“Come off it, Willie. You know very well that Howard is incapable of going through with it.”

“You think so? Maybe you don’t know Howard as well as you believe. He was always talking about walking off from everything and going somewhere to some island or something for the rest of his life.”

“Oh, I’ve heard him say such things myself, but I’m sure it didn’t mean anything. As a matter of fact, Marv talks like that sometimes, the idiot, but I don’t pay any attention to it. All husbands have such fancies, darling. They like to imagine themselves lying around on a beach drinking fermented coconut juice and diddling native girls night and day. It’s part of being a husband.”

“It’s kind of you to try to reassure me, Gwen, but I’m convinced that it’s much more serious in Howard’s case. He packed three bags and left and has been gone without a word ever since.”

“Since when?”

“Since right after I got home from the Club last night. You may remember that he came home ahead without me, and I was forced to catch a ride with his Cousin Quincy.”

“I remember. But why did he pack and leave? Damn it, Willie, even a husband doesn’t go off like that for no reason at all. What did you do to cause it?”

“It wasn’t anything I did. It was merely something he thought.”

“Please don’t be evasive, Willie. What did he think?”

“He thought I’d been outside doing something with Quincy. His own cousin, Gwen! Can you imagine?”

“Yes, I can, as a matter of fact. I’ve had experience with cousins myself, Willie, and I know what some of them are capable of. However, on second thought, I’m prepared to make an exception of Quincy. Cousin or not, he’s quite unthinkable as a person to go outside and do something with.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Quincy’s all right. You’ll have to admit that he’s exceptionally clever.”

“What on earth does being clever have to do with it? In the matter of choosing someone to do something with that would be likely to make a husband leave you, cleverness has no significance at all that I can see. Are you defending Quincy, by the way?”

“Why should I? It’s no matter to me what you think of him.”

“You did seem to be a little sensitive.”

Willie stood up and smoothed her Capri pants over her hips and looked bored. “I thought I could depend on you to be sensible, Gwen, but apparently I can’t. If you’re going to be ridiculous, I don’t believe I care to stay and talk with you any longer.”

“That’s all right, Willie. I feel like hell, and it would suit me fine if you were to go away.”

“In that case,” Willie said, “I’ll go.”

She went back along the hedge and into her own yard. She was proud of the way she had spread the idea of Howard’s desertion to Gwen beyond the hedge, who would certainly spread it a great deal farther as soon as her head quit bursting. Now Willie thought that she would like to go inside and have a sandwich and another Martini and a long nap, and that’s where she went and what she did.