CHAPTER SIXTEEN

TROUBLE STARTED four days after we had settled down at the lodge. They were four of the grandest days I ever spent. We had the place to ourselves and we did just what we liked. We dressed how we liked and we ate when we wanted to. We got up when we had had enough of bed, and we fooled around with fishing-lines until we had had enough of that. It was too good to last.

The first sign of trouble came with the postman. I got three articles returned. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I sat there staring at them and looking at the printed rejection slips. I had had enough of them in the past to know what they were without reading the blah.

Mardi came in from the kitchen carrying a tray. She stood still when she saw my face, then she put the tray down and came over. “What is it?”

I said I didn’t know. I said maybe there was a mistake or something.

She said, “But what is it?”

I showed her the rejection slips. She stood reading them, her brow wrinkled. “Perhaps they weren’t good enough,” she said at last.

I said I thought maybe that was it. But I knew it wasn’t. Something had gone wrong and I didn’t like it. I had been feeding these papers with stuff for years and they had grabbed everything I had given them. Now, without a word, they turned me down.

I said, “Listen, honey, we gotta go slow for a bit. I was banking on this stuff to get us by for a couple of weeks.”

She looked at me seriously, “You mean you are short of money?”

I shrugged. “Well, yes… I guess that’s about right.”

“Is that all? Are you sure that’s all?”

It was enough, but I didn’t want to worry her. “Yeah, that’s all… I’ll be just a little short.”

She put her arm round my shoulders. “We’ll get by,” she said. “Don’t you worry. We don’t have to have a lot of money.”

When we got through breakfast I went off to the study and thought things over. I checked my bank deposit and found I was shorter than I imagined. This was getting me worried. I put through a long-distance ’phone-call to one of the editors.

When I got him on the line at last I said, “What’s the big idea sending my stuff back?”

“What do you mean?” He sounded curt.

“Look, Johnson, this ain’t the way to treat me,” I said. “I’ve done some good work for you. If you didn’t like that article, why not write and tell me what’s wrong with it?”

“I’m sorry, Mason, we don’t want any more of your stuff. We’re looking round for new talent.”

I said, “You don’t have to give me this bull. I’ve been a good friend of yours, Buddy. Why not give it to me straight? I can take it.”

He said very quietly into the ’phone, “Suppose you come up to town and we’ll have lunch.”

I said, “I’ll do that,” and hung up.

I went out to find Mardi. She was in the suntrap, fixing some flowers.

“I gotta go up to town,” I said. “It’s about these articles. I gotta talk things over with the editor.”

She said, “May I come with you? I mean, may I come up and look at the shops while you’re busy?”

I shook my head. “Not just yet, honey. I want you to keep out of sight for a little while. I’ll be right back.”

She said, “I’ll have a nice supper for you.” I could see she didn’t like being left, but she wasn’t going to make things awkward. I put my arm round her. “Can I bring you anything back?” I said.

She shook her head. “We’ve got to save our money.”

I laughed. “It ain’t so bad as all that.”

“Isn’t… not ain’t.”

“You’re the teacher.”

She looked at me anxiously. “I don’t nag you, do I?”

I grinned. “Sure you do… all day an’ most of the night.”

I got up to town around twelve o’clock. It seemed all wrong after the silence of the fishing-lodge. I went into a bar and bought myself a drink. After I had wasted a little time I went round to the Globe building.

Johnson was waiting for me outside the place. I thought that was funny, but I didn’t say anything. The way he shipped me into a taxi made me think he was anxious not to be seen with me.

I said, “You certainly gave me a surprise.”

He fidgeted with his tie. “Yes, I’m mighty sorry about all this,” he said.

“All right. Let’s have a drink first and then we can talk about it. You tell me, how’re things with you?”

He shrugged a little. “Oh, I’m making out all right.”

“And the wife?”

“Yes, she’s fine.”

We rode the block in silence after that. I was beginning to get the jitters. We got out at a quiet restaurant off the main street that was unlikely to be crowded, and we made our way upstairs.

When we got settled, and after we had knocked back a few drinks, I thought it time for him to get down to things.

“Now, what is all this about?”

“Well, I’m darned sorry about this, Mason, but we just can’t take any more of your stuff.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

He twiddled with his glass, and he wouldn’t meet my eye, “It’s nothin’ to do with me,” he explained hastily. “I’ve had instructions from the old man.”

I sat back and let that one sink in. As I didn’t say anything, he went on, “I guess you’ve got yourself in bad somehow. The old man’s put the bar up.”

“Did he say why?”

Johnson shook his head. “He just sent me a note. You know the type of note he sends out: ‘Mr. Hawkins’s compliments, and do not accept any further work from Mr. Nick Mason.’”

I shrugged. “I guess he’s gone nuts,” I said. “Here, have another drink.”

We got through the meal somehow and then Johnson took himself off. I could see he was mighty glad to get shot of me. I stayed on after he’d gone and thought about things. Then I paid the bill and went over to a telephone-booth. I rang the press-room and asked for Ackie.

“Listen, Ackie, am I barred?”

“Yeah,” he said, “you’re washed up. What can I do about it for you?”

I thought a moment. “This is Spencer’s idea of getting me out of town.”

“Looks like it.”

“I’m in a spot, Mo,” I said. “I want some money.”

Ackie gave a groan. “Hell! Is it as bad as that?”

“Well, I guess not as bad as all that. I can run for a couple of weeks, but I’ve gotta get some dough.”

“You can count on me. I’ll let you have some.”

I grinned ruefully into the mouthpiece. “That’s swell of you, but I’ve gotta earn a livin’. You can’t keep me and Mardi all your life.”

“Maybe it’ll clear up by then, or maybe you’d better get moving.”

I said, “I’ll let you know,” and I hung up.

So I was barred. This was serious. I walked out into the street thinking. Spencer looked like getting his own way. I knew I was up against a powerful mob, and I knew when to quit. It looked to me right then that I’d better pack up and move to another State.

I was feeling pretty low by the time I got back to the fishing-lodge. I didn’t want to worry Mardi, but at the same time I wanted her to know just how I stood. I didn’t know how far Spencer’s influence carried. He was rich enough to carry weight with all the nationals. If the bosses had shares in this phoney business, they’d be glad to give him my head on a plate.

I walked up the drive, after I had parked the car in the garage. There was no sign of Mardi. I went quietly so that I should surprise her.

On my way up-town I’d got her two pairs of silk stockings. I’d felt pretty mushy buying them, but once I got clear of the shop I was glad. I guessed she would be pleased, because up to now I hadn’t bought her anything.

I beetled into the hall and made for the kitchen. She wasn’t there. So I went into the dining-room. The light was burning, but she wasn’t there either. I was just going upstairs when I saw something that brought me up short.

I stood there feeling cold chills running through me, and a sick feeling gathering inside me. I tried to kid myself that the two dark stains at my feet were paint stains, but I knew they weren’t. Slowly, I knelt down and touched one of them with my finger-tips. It was wet and sticky.

I stood up, looking at my fingers in the electric light. They were a bright red. Without knowing what I was doing I walked into the kitchen and let the water from the sink tap run over my hands. Deliberately I took a towel and wiped them dry.

I was so scared and sick that I was afraid to do anything else. I just stood there holding the towel, sweating ice. I heard myself say out loud: “Don’t let them have killed her… don’t let them have killed her… please, God… don’t let them have killed her.”

I told myself I’d have to go and look. I had to go upstairs and see where she was, but that’s as far as I could go. Nothing would get me out of the kitchen and upstairs.

I put the towel away after folding it carefully. I had to do something. I went back to the middle of the kitchen and stood there waiting. I said to myself that Mardi would come in in a moment from the garden, but I knew she wouldn’t. Katz had found her, and he had killed her; that I knew was what had happened, but I wouldn’t let myself believe it. I kept saying she’d be along in a moment or so, that the stuff on the floor outside was paint, it just couldn’t be Mardi’s blood, but I knew it was.

Then I thought of her all alone when Katz came. I could see her against the wall, her big, smoky eyes very wide, but her chin up. That would be the way she’d face up to Katz. She’d be thinking of me, and all the time she was going away from me I was talking to that bastard Johnson. I was worrying about dough when Mardi was being killed.

The sick feeling inside me began to ease a little, and the first shock gave way to a numbed feeling at the back of my brain. I went outside and stood looking at the bloodstains in the sitting-room. They were near the wall. When I looked closer I could see two bruises on the paint on the wainscoting. They looked like two heel marks. I could picture Mardi trying to press herself into the wall as Katz came at her. It made me feel so bad that I had to sit down.

Then I did a thing I’d never done since I was a kid. I didn’t know I was doing it until I tasted the salt in my mouth. Going on like this wouldn’t get me anywhere so I got up and gave myself a shot of Scotch. I took three-quarters of a tumbler and it went down like water. I guess it did the trick all right, because I got a grip on myself and I began to use my brain.

I went over to the telephone and dialled. I knew I couldn’t handle this on my own. I had to share this with someone.

I said to Ackie: “Come on out here fast.”

That’s the big thing about Ackie, he always knew when you wanted him bad. He didn’t ask why, nor did he make excuses. I knew that he was right in the middle of going to press, but he just said: “Keep your shirt on, I’m on my way,” and he hung up.

If he came fast he could make it an hour. I knew I couldn’t wait an hour before going upstairs. I went over to the sideboard and belted the Scotch again, then I decided to go on up and see.

I went into the hall and looked up the stairs. The lodge was silent. Standing there, facing the stairs, I realized how much Mardi meant to me. I began to walk forward. The stairs seemed to go on a long way. I couldn’t hurry, but I kept on. When I reached the top I felt heavy in the legs, just as if I’d been walking through glue.

On the landing there were two bathrooms, two bedrooms and a dressing-room. All the five doors were shut. Mardi might be behind any one of these. I knew the most likely would be our bedroom, but I didn’t try that first. I went into one of the bathrooms. She wasn’t there. I left the door open and the light on and went into the dressing-room. She wasn’t there either.

I went out on to the landing and stood looking at the other doors and I felt bad. It took me a little while before I could go on. This time I went to our bedroom. I turned the handle slowly and pushed the door open, then I put my hand round and turned on the light. I didn’t go in at once. I just stood looking in.

I looked everywhere but at the bed, because I knew she would be there. Then I brought my eyes down to the bed. I felt the cold trickle of sweat running down my back.

There was a large red stain on the white sheet, which was drawn over her face. I could see, from where I was standing, the small hills that marked her feet, her hands, her breasts, and her nose. The sheet was drawn tight and I could clearly see those small hills.

I leant against the doorpost and just looked. Then I began to hate Spencer and his wife and Katz and the fat guy and Gus and the whole hellish business as I had never hated anything before. I wanted to get close to them all and get my hands on them. I wanted to hurt and kill them all because of what they had done to me. I no longer cared what would happen to me. I just wanted to even things up, knew that I was just kidding myself, because if I did kill them all it wouldn’t help me. It wouldn’t bring Mardi back and it would never take the picture I had of her facing what she had faced alone.

If only I had been there with her we could have gone out together. I know she wouldn’t have minded.

I didn’t go into the room. I turned off the light and went downstairs again. In the sitting-room I sat down and fumbled for my cigarette case. I noticed, as I struck a match, that my hands were very steady. I was a little surprised. I just sat there smoking with a blank mind until Ackie came.

I heard his car roaring up the drive and I went out to meet him. He had come faster than I thought. He was out of the car before I could get to the front door, and when he had a look at me he just pushed me back into the lodge and shut the front door.

“What is, it, Nick?”

I opened and shut my mouth, but no sound came. I just stood looking at him.

He put his hand on my arm. His face had gone very grim. “Mardi? Somethin’ happened to Mardi?”

I took a deep breath. It was worse than I thought. It made it much more real to have to say it. I had to put out a big effort to get control of myself. I could feel the muscles in my stomach fluttering. “They’ve killed her, Mo.” Well, it was out now.

Ackie didn’t believe it. He pushed me into the sitting-room. “They wouldn’t do that,” he said. “Get a grip on yourself, Nick. Come on an’ have a drink. They wouldn’t kill a kid like that.”

I grabbed him by the arm and swung him round. “I tell you they’ve killed her, the swine. She’s up there on the bed. Look… they killed her here. Look at the blood. Do you see that? That’s hers. That’s from her body. They killed her down here.—They came on her when she was alone and the yellow curs killed her against the wall.”

Ackie took a look at the bloodstains. Then he shook his head. “Take it easy,” he said, “take it easy.”

I seized his coat-front in my fist and shook him. “Don’t say that to me!” I shouted at him. “I tell you she’s up there….”

He hit me across the face with the flat of his hand very hard. I guess I wanted that. It shook me up and it hurt a lot, but it fixed me. I blinked at him and took my hand away. “I’m sorry, Mo,” I said, stepping away from him. “I guess I was excited.”

“Sure,” he said. “Suppose we go up?”

With Ackie, I felt I could do it. We went upstairs quickly. I turned on the light in the bedroom and walked over to the bed.

I heard Ackie say:. “Good God!”

I pulled the sheet down with a steady hand. The floor seemed to rise up under me and I felt Ackie grab at my arm. We both stood staring.

Even in death Blondie looked hard and suspicious. Her glazed eyes were fixed in a terrified stare and the rivid paint on her mouth glistened in the electric light. She was naked, and a small blood-encrusted bullet-hole just above her left breast told me how she had died.

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