Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 9, No. 2, February 1964

The Handiest Man Around by Thomasina Weber

I am informed, by other men’s wives, that a woman most appreciates a “man around the house” when there are chores to be done. Indeed, some tasks seem literally to cry out for a strong masculine hand.

Ed Piper sat on the front board seat of the boat. The Gulf was choppy and. Crane Island looked too far away for comfort. The small outboard chattered along and Piper, not too fond of salt water in his eyes, twisted around to face the old man behind him.

“How many times you made this trip to the island?” Piper asked his guide with curiosity.

The old man, his hand on the rudder, chewed thoughtfully. Then, taking into account wind speed and direction, he spit accurately over the side. “More’n once,” he replied.

“You got a lot of faith in this rowboat.”

“It ain’t no commercial ferry, Mister.” He stared straight ahead, squinting against the spray and the sunlight. “You got business on the island?”

“They advertised for a handyman. I just got to town this morning, so I figured I’d look into it.”

“I guess the work piled up on Miss Hutchins since the accident. They’s some things a woman just can’t do.”

“You mean it’s a woman I’d be working for?”

“Yup.”

Piper frowned. October had turned cold in Michigan and he’d shoved off for Florida to look for work. He had worked his way all over the country since he got out of the Army, following the sun and stopping where and when he pleased. He had worked for all kinds of men, and he had yet to find the one he couldn’t handle. But a woman was a different matter. A woman rich enough to live on a Florida island wasn’t Piper’s idea of the perfect employer. She probably wore long trailing skirts and carried a cane. Well, he didn’t have to take the job if he didn’t want it.

“Their boat blowed up ’bout six months ago,” the old man was saying. “Killed the old woman and darn near her husband.”

“What old woman?”

“Miss Hutchins’ aunt. Killed the young feller, too.”

“But isn’t that a cruiser at their dock?”

“They had two. The little one blowed.”

The boat eased forward like a flea sidling up to a Saint Bernard. Piper looked at the tall white side of the cruiser. Maybe he could put up with the long skirts and the cane.

“Want I should wait?” asked the old man as Piper stepped onto the dock.

The narrow beach was fenced with lush green jungle. A white shell path cut cleanly through it to the house, a two-storied structure of gray weathered cypress sheltered by pine trees. As he watched, the door opened. She was too far away for her features to be distinct, but the tight pullover, white shorts and long tanned legs didn’t resemble his picture of the boss at all.

“No, you go on back,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ve got the job.” He smiled with confidence.

She waited on the porch and he moved easily toward her, conscious of his athletic stride, his well-developed muscles responding in smooth coordination.

“Miss Hutchins?” She inclined her head but didn’t smile. Her hair was heavy and black and pulled back off her face to hang in a swaying ponytail. Her eyes were a cool brown and she was evenly and deeply tanned. He judged her to be about twenty-three or twenty-four. “Ed Piper. I saw your ad for a handyman.”

Her eyes went beyond him and he knew she was watching the small boat chugging back to the mainland. “You seem rather sure of the job, Mr. Piper.” Her voice was low and melodic as he knew it would be.

He smiled and started up the porch steps. “I’m about the handiest man you’ll find.”

“We’ll see.” She turned and entered the house. He caught the screen door before it slammed.

He could think of worse ways to spend the winter than alone on an island with a beautiful girl. He watched her step behind the small bar. “What will you have?” she asked.

“Ginger ale.”

She looked at him in astonishment. “You’re kidding.”

“Ginger ale,” he repeated, smiling. “I’ve got all the vices but drinking.”

She shrugged as she put ice into a tall glass. “Everyone to his own taste.”

The house was clean and airy with all the windows open. The outdoor smell of clear green water and tall waving pines permeated the room. He liked this place. His eyes took in the simple, comfortable furnishings, the silvery driftwood panelling, the sleek, lithe girl seated in the deep chair with a frosty glass. She was looking him over carefully. Yes, he liked this place very much indeed.

“There’s a comfortable apartment above the garage,” she said. “You’ll find everything you need there.”

“Aren’t you afraid to stay in this big house all alone?”

“I’m not alone,” she said, turning her glass in her hand and studying the clear moist prints her fingers left. “Uncle is here.”

Piper didn’t let his smile fade. Hooray for Uncle. But Piper was somewhat of an expert on uncles. And irate fathers and chivalrous brothers and meddlesome mothers.

“Where’s Uncle now?” he asked.

“He takes a nap every afternoon. He hasn’t been well since the accident.”

“I heard about that. I’m sorry.”

“It could have been worse. I could have lost Uncle, too.”

“We should always count our blessings,” he said gravely.

She gave him a strange look as she got to her feet and walked to the bar, setting down her empty glass. Turning to face him, she leaned back on one elbow and looked at him steadily. “There’s a lot of upkeep to a place like this, Mr. Piper. I can do most of it myself, but there are some things that require a man. I’m pretty good with boats and I handle the housework and cooking myself. Uncle’s hospital bills ran quite high, so I have to cut corners where I can. The best I can do is thirty dollars a week and your room and board. You’ll have a lot of free time to spend as you wish. The boat is at your disposal.”

Piper relaxed. Uncle notwithstanding, he would gladly have stayed without pay. “Sounds fair enough,” he said casually. “You got yourself a handyman.”

“There’s one more thing... Ed,” she said, coming closer and lowering her voice. “Since the accident, Uncle hasn’t been quite right. I mean, he gets queer spells.” She averted her eyes. “Once or twice he’s tried to... well, grab hold of me. He’s very strong when he’s in one of these spells, but afterwards he doesn’t remember anything about it. That’s another reason I want someone out here. Actually, it’s the main reason.” She put her hands behind her back and looked up at him. “I hope I haven’t given you the wrong impression of Uncle. Most of the time he’s sweet and gentle as a kitten. I love him very much.”

“I understand, Miss Hutchins. You need me, you just holler.”

“Good. Dinner’s at seven. I like to get it over with so I can enjoy the evenings. They’re much too nice to spend in the kitchen.”

“I’ll be here.”

Piper’s apartment had a good bed, comfortable chairs and a portable TV set. The front windows looked out over the wafer and the curtains kept active in the breeze.

Uncle didn’t appear for dinner. “He always eats in his room,” explained Miss Hutchins. “He likes to sit by the window and watch the sunset.”

“You’re a good cook, Miss Hutchins.”

“Call me Stella, Ed. I don’t believe in formality.”

“Suits me, Stella. You can’t be very formal on an island, anyway.”

“Tomorrow morning we’ll take the boat to the mainland for paint. I’d like to have you start on the kitchen. I could have done it myself, but I abhor painting.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, grinning.

He helped Stella with the dishes in anticipation of helping her enjoy the evening. But whatever plans she had, they didn’t include him. “See you in the morning, Ed,” she said, putting away the last plate. “Good night.”

Well, he had plenty of time, Ed told himself as he switched on the TV and stretched out on his bed. Plenty of time and plenty of opportunity.

The cruiser covered the stretch to the mainland considerably faster than yesterday’s rowboat. She sure was a honey and Piper couldn’t wait till he could take it outside. He hoped he could persuade Stella to go with him. After all, the poor girl probably needed some recreation, stuck here on an island with all that work and an invalid uncle. He clucked softly. Poor little old thing.

“How’s your uncle, Miss Stella?” said the proprietor of the hardware store as they entered. “I haven’t seen you for quite a spell.”

“He’s much better, Mr. Morton. The paralysis is gone. He’s getting quite frisky.” She laughed, rather nervously, Ed thought.

“You don’t say! Well, that’s mighty good news. The Doc’ll be glad to hear it. He didn’t much like it when you told him he didn’t have to call any more.”

“I didn’t think it was necessary, Mr. Morton. I’ve followed his instructions to the letter and Uncle has improved steadily.”

“I guess one of these days I’ll be seeing him out fishing again.”

“It’s possible,” said Stella. “And now, I need some paint for my kitchen.”

The kitchen required several days of preparation and Stella insisted on helping him. She was the only woman he had ever seen who could paint without getting any on herself. “You said you hated painting, Stella. Why don’t you let me do it myself?”

“I don’t mind as long as I don’t have the whole job to do myself,” she replied. “And I like having someone to talk to.”

“Uncle doesn’t like to talk?”

“He likes to be by himself. You’ve been here a week now and you haven’t seen him yet.”

“I know. I sort of wondered why.”

“He knows you’re here. I told him. I didn’t want him to see you because—” She hesitated and looked up at him. Her eyes were dark brown and they seemed to smolder with promise.

“Why didn’t you want him to see me? I still don’t get it, Stella.”

“He’s very jealous. I’m sure he’d like our handyman to be a little wizened relic of a man with no teeth and water on the knee.”

Piper laughed. “Now, Stella, you wouldn’t be exaggerating?”

“Not a bit, Ed. He wouldn’t approve of a man like you. You’re too — well, he wouldn’t approve.” She turned quickly away.

“Stella—”

“I’d better get some more turpentine.” The screen door banged as she almost ran outside.

Ed felt quite pleased with himself that night as he lay looking at TV. Stella showed signs of being human after all. An island with no connection with the rest of the world except the telephone, which hadn’t rung once since he arrived. An isolated island and a beautiful girl. A boat and a beach. Moonlight on the sand. And then a thought that had been tapping at him ever since his arrival finally grew strong enough to get his attention. This would sure be an ideal setup for a tourist resort. It would be exclusive. The commercial droned on as Piper sat up, all thoughts of relaxation gone. The house could be the center of a sprawling cottage colony, a sort of community building. They could put a salt water swimming pool behind it and set up a first class bar. Why, this place could make a fortune without half trying! Didn’t the girl know she had a potential goldmine here? Didn’t Uncle know it? He wondered about Uncle. Didn’t he ever come out of his room? Didn’t he ever walk on the beach or sit in the surf? Stella said his room was his world, that the sight, sound and smell of the surf as they came through his window were sufficient. But you’d think if he didn’t like the outdoors he wouldn’t have retired to his island in the first place. Piper filed the resort idea under Project To Be Worked On.

By the next afternoon the kitchen was finished. “It’s a relief to get everything back in order again,” sighed Stella. “I can’t stand a jumble.”

Piper smiled at her. She seemed to have forgotten all about yesterday’s episode. He didn’t think she would require much reminding.

“Let’s celebrate by taking the boat out after dinner,” she said brightly.

“How about Uncle?”

“He goes to bed early. He’ll be all right.”

Piper wasn’t going to argue.

She was wearing blue shorts and a matching pullover, and she had loosened her hair so that it hung in soft waves on her shoulders. She headed for open water, cutting across the path of the moon.

“What are you going to do with your life?” asked Piper.

She was silent, as if thinking over her answer. Finally she spoke, her voice hesitant. “I suppose I’ll do just what I’m, doing now.”

“Do you like this island living?”

“I don’t have much choice, do I? Aunt and Uncle raised me and put me through college, so the least I can do is see that Uncle is cared for the rest of his, days.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“About liking life on the island? Sometimes I think I would like to live in the city.”

“Why don’t you bring the city here?”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “What do you mean?”

He came to stand behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Stella, kill the engine and let’s drift. It’s easier to talk that way.” She did so and he went on. “Have you ever realized that your island would make an ideal tourist resort?”

“A tourist resort?” She turned to face him.

“Yes.” And he told her what he had been thinking the night before. “How does that sound to you, Stella?”

“It sounds fine, but Uncle would never hear of it. This is his island hideaway and he’d never consider opening it to the public.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m afraid so. There’s a developer in Miami who’s, had the same idea for several years. He was out here before the accident trying again to talk Uncle into selling. Uncle got very upset. He almost threw him down the stairs.”

He reached for a strand of her hair and began to twine it around his fingers. “How do you put up with it? This is no life for a lovely young girl like you.”

“It could be worse.”

“And it could be better.” He pulled her into his arms. “Much better.” He kissed her gently, lingeringly. She didn’t resist. “How old is Uncle?” he breathed against her hair.

She pulled away slightly and looked at him in surprise. “Why, I don’t know exactly. Close to seventy, I’d say.”

Piper nodded. “He’s lived his life, don’t you think?” She didn’t answer. “I mean, why should he live your life, too?”

“Please, Ed, it isn’t easy for me. Don’t make it more difficult.”

“There’s an easy way out, Stella. Haven’t you ever thought of it?”

She pulled out of his arms. “We’d better start back. There’s a pretty strong wind coming up now.”

Stella said nothing more. Piper watched her handling the boat as if she were born to it. He wasn’t discouraged. She hadn’t said no. When they parted at the dock, she was cool and polite.

Piper didn’t go to bed. Instead he seated himself by the window, relishing the sea breeze on his face. The moon traveled slowly across the sky and he thought of the silvered water and the quiet power of the cruiser and the warmth and softness of Stella in his arms. He felt he could persuade her to see things his way. As the owner of an exclusive resort on a tropical island, Piper would have it made. All he’d have to do would be to sit back and watch the money roll in. Of course, he’d have to marry Stella to make this dream come true. He grinned in the darkness. That was like telling a little boy he’d have to eat all the frosting if he wanted the cake.

Suddenly a door slammed and Piper saw a mist of light chiffon blow down the porch steps like a small whirlwind. It was Stella and she was running up the driveway toward the garage, the long filmy folds gathered up in her hands. As she drew closer, he could hear her sobbing. He met her on the stairs and put his arm around her shaking body as he anxiously brought her to his room.

“Stella! What happened?”

She collapsed in a chair, her face in her hands. The lamp he turned on showed the sheer negligee, torn and hanging off one shoulder. Her hair was wild and one slipper was gone.

“Uncle woke while we were out in the boat. He was calling for me and he had himself worked into a rage by the time I got home.” She lifted her head and her long slender fingers tugged self-consciously at the torn negligee, trying to draw it closed across the lowcut nightgown.

“I gave him some hot milk and explained that I had been out on the boat. Alone, I told him. He seemed to grow calmer, so I left him. I was already in bed when he called me again. I... I went in and he was — waiting for me. He was behind the door and when I came in — he grabbed me.” She pressed her fist to her mouth.

He pulled her into his arms. “Don’t cry, sweet. You’re all right now.” Her shoulder was warm and trembling beneath the thin fabric. He took his hand away. “What did you do then?” he asked.

“I’m ashamed to tell you,” she whispered.

His throat felt dry. “It’s all right. You can tell me.”

“There was a lamp by the door. I... I picked it up and swung it at him. He fell. I thought I’d killed him!” She picked at a fold of the negligee. “I... I must have hit the right spot, because he collapsed. I got him back on the bed and covered him up. His pulse was steady.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I wasn’t thinking. I was so worried over Uncle that I didn’t even have time to be afraid for myself. It wasn’t until I left his room that I realized what had happened and all at once I was crying and running to you like — like a big baby!”

He cradled her head against his chest and stroked her hair. “You should have called me. He might have hurt you.” As she gradually quieted down, he felt a suffocating tightness in his throat. “Something’s got to be done, baby,” he murmured. “You can’t go on like this.” She shook her head against his chest. “Look, you say he’s unconscious. Suppose I load him in the boat and go outside and... well, people fall off boats every day, don’t they?” She continued to shake her head. “Look, Stella, be sensible, will you? You can’t throw your life away on an old man! You have to think of yourself.” She tried to push away, but he held her. He let his hand slide down over her back. He waited. Finally she raised her eyes to his. There was no sign of tears.

“He might regain consciousness on the boat,” she said quietly. “He’s small and wiry, but extremely strong when he’s aroused. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, Ed.”

He tried to hide his jubilation. “I’ll be careful.”

“I have a better idea,” she said. “He’s in bed unconscious. Your hands are so strong. It would be better — and then you could put the body on the boat and — you’ll be safe.”

“Okay, Stella, we do it your way. Do you want to stay here?”

“I’ll go back to the house and change. I’m going with you.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“I’m going, anyway. I couldn’t just sit here. I’m not the waiting type.”

They went back to the house and while Stella went to her room to dress, Piper approached Uncle’s door. He opened it soundlessly, prepared for anything. A small night light showed the old man in his bed, his slight form hardly showing under the sheet. Piper crept closer, taking no chances. Uncle wouldn’t be the first one who had ever played possum. But Uncle didn’t stir. His breathing was shallow and even. Piper looked down at the frail head, the skin white and taut over high cheekbones, the hair fine and sparse over the pale scalp. You wouldn’t think that only a little while ago — but closed lids could conceal conniving eyes. His hands found the scrawny throat. It didn’t take long.

He slung the body over his shoulder and left the room. Stella in dark levis and dark sweater was just coming into the hallway, pulling her ponytail out of the sweater and straightening it on her body. It sure took a woman a long time to get dressed, he thought wryly.

Together they left the house and boarded the cruiser. Piper laid the body on the deck while Stella tried to start the engine.

“What’s wrong?” he asked when it failed to catch.

“I don’t know. I can’t imagine.”

“Well, keep trying.” Piper found it hard not to look at the body at his feet. He was beginning to sweat.

“It was all right when we took it out earlier,” she said.

“I know it! Why can’t you start it now?”

“I’m doing the best I can. Maybe you—”

“Move over.” He pushed her aside, but he, had no better-luck with it.

Stella left his side and moved to the stern of the boat. “I’m not helping any breathing down your neck,” she said. He gritted his teeth and tried again and again. The sweat was running down his face and stinging his eyes.

And then he was aware of the outboard with no lights which was settling to a stop beside the cruiser. The beam of a searchlight found him where he stood.

“Hold it right there!” said a voice.

Piper watched the Sheriff and his deputy board the cruiser, guns in hand. “We got here as quick as we could, Miss Stella,” he said, pointing his gun at Piper. “You did a good job of stallin’. Jones and me, we were just about to leave for home when your call came.”

Piper looked from one to the other in bewilderment. “What call?” he asked Stella. She only smiled.

“Miss Stella, here, she called ’bout fifteen minutes ago and said as how you’d killed her uncle and was fixin’ to dump him.”

Piper turned to Stella. “He’s lying!”

Stella’s smile faded and the tears came. “Poor Uncle, he never had a chance! He strangled him in his bed.”

Piper’s mind snapped out of its stupor. He was beginning to see the light. “I did it, sure,” he said, “but it wasn’t that way at all! The old man attacked Stella and she screamed for help and I came running. He was, like a madman. It was him or me.”

The Sheriff turned to Stella. “I didn’t know your uncle was frisky that way. When you said in town his paralysis was gone and he was feelin’ pretty good, didn’t nobody think he felt that good.” Stella stared at him. “Sorry, Miss Stella, guess that wasn’t so funny.”

“No, it wasn’t,” agreed Stella, “because Uncle’s paralysis wasn’t gone at all. He’s been in bed ever since the accident.”

“But you said in town last week—”

“Ed made me say it. He’d heard about that Miami developer wanting this island and he came here planning to kill Uncle and get the property through me — one way or another. He had self-defense in mind in case he couldn’t get rid of the body.”

Piper dropped to the seat, his knees too weak to support his weight. Piper, the fall guy. Sure, she “sometimes thought she’d like to live in the city.” She wanted out so bad she could scream. And lie. And kill. She’d live long and high on the money she’d get for the island.

The Sheriff was helping Stella into his boat. Jones, who hadn’t said a word the whole time, Had Piper covered now. Jones was small and young and he looked uncomfortable and embarrassed. He cleared his throat. “Miss Stella sure has hard luck with the handymen she hires,” he said.

“How do you mean?” asked Piper.

“Well, the last one was on the boat with her aunt and uncle when it blew up. If a fisherman hadn’t been passing, her uncle probably would have drowned.”

So that’s who the “young feller” on the boat had been. Piper looked back across their wake at the dark hulk of the island as they neared the mainland. A tropical island, a moon and a beautiful woman. Piper sighed, but he wasn’t dreaming.