Kiss and Kill

Chapter V

Mavis pointed out that the ad asked for a man of thirty-five, and I had just passed my thirty-first birthday in February.

“Of course, some men don’t change much between thirty and forty,” she said. “Maybe you could pass for a young-looking thirty-five.”

I went to look in a mirror, and decided I could.

Mavis and I spent a lot of time drafting a letter. We were pretty proud of the finished product. It went:

I thought that the Shamrock would be an unlikely address for a man answering a matrimonial ad. I rented a post office box and gave its number as my return address.

Two days later I got an answer. It read:

The return address was in the thirty-nine hundred block of Case, which is a solid, upper-middle-class residential section.

Mavis said, “She sounds like a dream. I think I’m jealous.”

“You should be,” I said dryly. “She has so much more than you do.”

“Probably all in the wrong places,” Mavis murmured. “I hope.”

I had some preparations to make before I called on Mrs. Hannah Stokes. All of the clothes I owned would have been as out of character as my Shamrock address. I went down to a department store and bought a cheap ready-made suit, a pair of cheap shoes and a dollar necktie.

When I called on the widow that evening, I looked like what I was supposed to be: a man of moderate income all dressed up for a blind date. I arrived at five minutes after seven.

Hannah Stokes lived in a two-story frame home with a broad lawn edged by a low fence. The door opened instantly when I rang.

The woman had lied a little about her age. She looked close to forty. She was a stocky, freckle-faced woman with wide hips and a massive bust. In a coarse sort of way she wasn’t bad-looking. She had strawberry-blonde hair that fell to her shoulders in waves, a wide, humorous mouth and twinkling brown eyes in a plain, but not unattractive, face, and strong white teeth. She was solid rather than fat, having a moderate waistline and well-rounded, though somewhat thick, arms and legs.

Apparently she had prepared for company in case it came. She wore a loud print dress, a rhinestone bracelet with matching earrings, bright lipstick and mascara.

“Mrs. Stokes?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said, examining me with a mixture of approval and hope.

“I’m Sam Plainfield.”

“Well,” she said enthusiastically. “You’re better looking than I ever hoped. Come on in.”

She led me into a garishly-furnished front room, took my hat and coat and invited me to sit down. I chose an easy chair. She draped my wraps over another chair and plumped herself onto the sofa. She looked at me expectantly.

“You have a nice home,” I commented. “You live here all alone?”

She nodded. “Gaylord and me never had no children. That was my husband, Gaylord. He wanted some, but nothing ever happened. It wasn’t me, because I went to a doctor and found out I was okay. Gaylord wouldn’t go for a check. I think he was afraid he’d find out he shot blanks.”

She was refreshingly frank, I thought. I said, isn’t it rather expensive to keep up this big a place just for yourself?”

“I figure on having a husband sharing it before long,” she said. “Anyhow, it’s all clear. Gaylord left me pretty well-fixed. He dropped dead of a heart attack just six months ago last Friday.”

I gave a sympathetic murmur.

“Oh, don’t feel sorry about it,” she said. “If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t be nearly so well-fixed. It was mostly insurance money. The gym was clear and this house was clear, but we didn’t have a dime in the bank.”

“He was heavily insured, eh?”

“We both was. Gaylord believed in insurance. There’s twenty thousand on me, too. Paid up life. He took it out when he was first married twenty-fifteen years ago.” She caught herself just in time. She had almost given away her true age.

I said, “I didn’t realize you were so well-off. I’m afraid I haven’t that much to offer. I have a little in savings, but I’m not a rich man.”

“I got enough for both of us,” she said with a grin. “In case we get together. How come you’re still single at thirty-five, Sam?”

Apparently we were going to be on a first-name basis from the start. I said, “I guess I just never met the right girl, Hannah.”

She gave me an arch look. “Think maybe you finally have? Or am I going too fast for you? I’m a great one for snap judgements.”

“Oh?”

“Minute I opened the door and saw you, I flipped. If I’m going too fast, you’ll just have to get used to me, because that’s the way I am. I’ll tell you right out, you’re what I’ve been looking for. I’m willing to head for a J.P. right now.”

I grinned at her. “Without knowing a thing about me? There’s an old axiom that goes, ‘Marry in haste, repent at leisure.’ ”

“What more do I have to know?” she inquired. “You’re a college man. I never in the world expected to hear from no college man. You must be steady or you wouldn’t have that Iowa job for seven years. Losing the one up in New York wasn’t your fault if the place went out of business. And you’re a living doll. I’m all set.” Then she looked concerned. “Or don’t you like me?”

“I think you’re wonderful,” I said sincerely. “But you kind of sweep me off my feet. Let’s get a little better acquainted before we make any final decisions.”

“I knew I was going too fast,” she said agreeably. “I’m like that. Whatever you say. How shall we start getting acquainted?”

“Well, first, if you expect me to manage your gym, why don’t you tell me about it?”

She told me about it in detail. It was in downtown Houston and was used mainly by professional fighters in training. While her husband was alive, the income from it had supported them, paid for their home and paid the premiums on the heavy insurance they both carried. Since his death, two of the employees were jointly managing it, and the income had fallen off to half. She was convinced they were robbing her.

“I figure with a husband to manage it again, income will jump right back to where it was,” she said. “So, really, he’ll be paying his way. We could live on the gym and not even have to touch the insurance money except for something special, like maybe a honeymoon. You want to take a look at the gym tonight? There won’t be nobody there at this time, but I got keys.”

I wasn’t anxious to be seen by any more people who knew her than necessary. A visit to the place tonight would give me an excuse for postponing future visits when it was open. I agreed that it would be a good idea.

I had bought another car when we first arrived in Houston, this time a year-old Plymouth We drove down to the gymnasium in it.

It was a typical fighter’s gym, a big, barnlike structure whose main room contained a ring plus all the training paraphernalia fighters use. In addition, there was a locker room with showers, a rubdown room and an office. I looked it over with a show of interest I didn’t feel, as I had no intention of ever managing it.

“Pretty fair equipment,” I told her in a professional tone. “You need a new heavy bag and a couple more punching bags, though.”

“Well, that’d be your problem if we get together,” Hannah said. “I don’t know beans about the business. You’d be in full charge.”

When we got back to the house, she invited me in again. As before, we sat in the front room.

“Anything else you want to know?” she asked.

I asked her a few more questions about herself, and she answered them in detail. She had no relatives closer than uncles, aunts and cousins, I learned, and none of them lived in Texas. She had only a grade-school education, but assured me she read all the time. Her favorite magazine was True Story.

She didn’t ask me a single thing, even how I happened to be in Texas when my last job was in New York State. As long as she was willing to take me at face value, I didn’t offer any information.

At eleven I rose to leave.

“Do you have to take off so early?” she asked wistfully.

“It’ll be midnight when I get back to the motel,” I said. “We can get together again tomorrow.”

Rising from the sofa, she watched disconsolately as I pulled on my coat. “I got lots of room here,” she said. “There’s three bedrooms upstairs. You could save all that drive home and back again tomorrow.”

I cocked an eyebrow at her. “Wouldn’t the neighbors talk?”

“Aw, who cares about the neighbors? They hardly speak to me anyhow. They’re all uppity around here. Anyhow, if we’re going to be married, what difference would a few days or weeks make?”

I couldn’t keep an amused expression from forming on my face. Hannah had the grace to blush.

“There I go again,” she said. “Always going too fast. But you said we ought to get acquainted. I don’t know a better way for a man and woman to get acquainted in a hurry.”

I considered the invitation. There wasn’t much doubt in my mind that if I took it, I could have her eating out of my hand by morning. There also wasn’t much doubt in my mind that I was going to have to climb into bed with her eventually, if I expected to get hold of any of her money. She wasn’t the type of woman who would turn her life savings over to a lover who merely whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

She wasn’t what I would have picked as a bed partner for pure enjoyment, but she wasn’t repulsive either. There was a robust sexuality about her that was kind of appealing. And at least she was clean. She had the freshly-scrubbed appearance of a woman who used lots of soap regularly.

I said, “The sister I mentioned in my letter is down here with me. She might worry if I stayed out all night.”

“Call her up,” Hannah urged. “Give her some story.”

I pretended to muse. I had mentioned the sister only as an excuse not to spend the entire night.

“She’s in a separate cabin at the motel,” I said. “She wouldn’t know I wasn’t in until morning. Suppose I just stay for a couple of hours, and then go home?”

Hannah looked pleased at this concession. “All right,” she agreed. “We can do a lot of getting acquainted in a couple of hours. Give me your coat again.”

She wasn’t bad. What she lacked in finesse, she more than made up for in enthusiasm.

I got back to the Shamrock at 4:00 A.M.