A Matter of Patience by Norman Daniels

An unfaithful wife, he fold himself, deserves a hard life... an even harder death.

Leo Damion had smoked his second cigar before the couple emerged from the motel and he saw the man help the woman into the sleek, fire-engine-red sports car which had been parked outside the cabin.

His rage was the quiet kind for the moment, but the most dangerous kind because the woman was his wife and he’d warned her before about this sort of thing.

He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d had an unhappy marriage with him. In their thirteen years together, he’d provided well. As a successful manufacturer, he’d made sufficient money to keep her in mink coat, cape and stole. Her perfumes were imported and her dresses came from only the best couturiers.

He had provided a nine room, three-and-a-half-bath ranch-suburban home which was as nice a place as the whole section boasted of. She had her own car, a by-the-day maid and a laundress. He took her to the best restaurants and night clubs. If they didn’t make first night at the theatre, they were there the second.

All in all, Leo Damion thought he’d done very well for Jean and she showed her appreciation by going out with other men.

She wasn’t getting away with it. The first one — Charlie Hoyt, a young lawyer who’d been struggling to find a couple of clients — she’d been out with him several times, he knew.

Leo had suffered in silence, but no man could be expected to endure that forever, so Leo had done something about it. The way things turned out, he was very proud of the way he’d handled it.

Now he looked as if he were going to be required to go through it all again. He would be careful though, just as careful as he’d been with Charlie. Getting rid of a person wasn’t as difficult or dangerous as he’d believed.

It was merely a matter of patience until the right time, and then speed and strength. Leo bit the tip off a third cigar and smiled. Speed was a matter to be induced at the moment he struck; strength he already had far more than enough of.

He drove home, stopping at a bar for a couple of drinks. He made certain Jean was back before he returned. She was in the living room, already dressed in a lounging robe with her hair in curlers, and a significant lack of warmth predominated her greeting.

“Why Leo, I didn’t expect you this early.”

“And how did you spend the evening, my dear?”

“How do I spend all my evenings when you’re not at home? Looking at television, reading—”

He loosened his tie and unlaced his right shoe because it hurt across the instep. “Of course I know you’re lying,” he said.

Her expression didn’t change. “Have you been following me again, Leo?” she asked in a matter-of-fact voice. It was her utter lack of fear that infuriated him.

“The Brick Cellar for dinner,” he related. “An unsavory, cheap place. Your new friend must be very frugal.”

“Not as frugal as poor,” she corrected.

“I see. Well then, there was a ride to the King’s Manor Motel with a long stop oh a lonely road first. Am I doing well, my dear?”

“You’re accurate enough,” she admitted. “What do you intend to do about it, Leo?”

He wasn’t feeling the liquor he’d drunk at the bar, so he poured himself a double shot and made a short highball for Jean. She didn’t touch it.

He returned to his chair and sat down slowly, regarding her with quiet contemplation.

“Of course you remember Charlie?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“I killed him, you know.”

For a moment he thought he was going to draw a reaction of fear because she sucked in a quick breath and was quite noisy about it. Her eyes too, went very large and looked down at her silly oversized, imitation-fur-lined slippers. He’d hoped for more than that, but he was willing to settle for what he’d gotten. The real fear would come later.

“Yes,” she said, “I thought you did, Leo. Though I must say I didn’t think you’d admit it.”

“I’m safe enough, Jean. I’m not afraid of what you might do.”

She did take a drink then, and it gratified Leo very much. He waited politely until she set the glass down again.

“Killing him was very easy,” he said, without bragging.

“Charlie was such a small man in comparison to you and quite without half your strength, Leo. I believe he must have been easy to kill. You strangled him, didn’t you?”

“The method is known to the police as mugging.”

“Yes, they said he was the victim of some cheap mugger. Leo, are you going to kill this new man also?”

“Of course I am. He’s encroaching upon my property, isn’t he?”

“I dislike being referred to as property, Leo.”

“I beg your pardon,” he said with a trace of sarcasm. “I stand corrected.”

“You might be tempting fate, you know.”

“I’ve tempted Fate in everything I’ve ever done. When I ran guns in the Middle East and the Orient. I tempted her when I established myself in a legitimate business. Both times Fate treated me very well for my risks.

“Only in you did she turn away from me. I’m older than you. I’m quite ugly, I suppose, but I am sufficiently educated and I dress well and I have a way about me that permits me to get by in the places where my money doesn’t count. Those are few and far between, but I do get by there. You, of course, are an exceedingly attractive woman. I understand why men seek you out.”

“Why don’t you just let me go, Leo? It would be so much easier and there’d be no risk.”

“I prefer to handle this in my own way. Your Charlie — that great lover — was an attorney, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, he was a lawyer.”

“He should have known better than to trespass, then. He died rather quickly. Would you like to hear about it, my dear?”

“I would not, but I’m quite sure I’ll have to endure it, Leo.”

He shook his head sorrowfully. “If you would only be as considerate and wise in your other dealings, Jean. I followed you and Charlie that night. You went to his office, long after hours and you stayed there right through the dinner hour. You and Charlie ate quite late that evening, if you remember. I waited outside.”

“Oh,” she asked. “Were you hungry, Led? I hope you were.”

“Yes, I was, and getting angrier by the minute. But then, you and Charlie obliged me. He drove you home and then he returned to town, put his car in the public garage where he always kept it. He worried me a bit at that moment because, instead of going directly home, he stopped at a bar. I had a drink with him. He wasn’t a bad sort, if you like the quiet, withdrawn kind.

“I even paid for the drink and we discussed — what do you think? — opera. He was quite a fan, which surprised me somewhat. Well, he then obliged me by going home through the alley he invariably used. I followed him and it didn’t make any difference if he saw me.”

“Did you tell him you were going to murder him, Leo?” she asked. “Of course you did. It heightened the drama of the moment, didn’t it? You most certainly would have told him.”

He wagged his head again. “You know me so well — and so little, Jean. It’s really a pity.”

“I’m quite tired,” she said. “I wish you’d get through the gory details which you insist I hear. Then let me go to bed.”

“There isn’t very much to tell. I followed him, as I told you. Halfway along the alley he heard me and he grew alarmed, I suppose. At any rate, he stopped and was going to do battle. Can you imagine a man his size going to do battle with one my size?

“But then he recognized me and he relaxed. That was when I seized him and twisted him around and curled my arm about his throat. I told him who I was as I applied the necessary pressure. It required about five minutes altogether. I robbed him because I wanted to make it look like the work of a cheap mugger and I threw his wrist-watch into an empty van which passed me by some time later. I returned to the cafe where I’d met Charlie and I spent his money there. I bought drinks for everyone.”

“He would have liked that,” she said without emotion.

“Then I’m sorry I did it. When I kill your present boy friend, I shall spend his money on some selfish thing.”

“You intend to keep this up? Kill all the men I meet, Leo?”

“No,” Leo said. “He will be the last.”

She seemed surprised. “You believe I’ll be: sufficiently cured by then?”

“I doubt you ever will be, Jean. A girl as beautiful as you will be a natural target for charming men and you are easily charmed. So it would happen again and again. But I won’t let it.”

“I don’t understand how you will stop something you admit is inevitable, Leo. Eventually you’re bound to make a slip and be caught.”

“I came to that conclusion myself when you took this new man into your life. I intend to kill him, but there will be no others because I intend to kill you too.”

The ice in the glass she held clinked as her hand shook in one tremor of fear. He didn’t miss it and he loved it. Under that chilly exterior she was scared to death.

“You’ll find it difficult,” she promised him. “Together we’d make a formidable defense against you.”

“Oh, but it won’t be together. I wish I could arrange that, but I’m not a fool, Jean. I’m also a man who doesn’t care to overexert myself in a matter which doesn’t require it. A simple little matter of murder. And then it will be your turn. You may retire now. Sleep well, my darling.”

She walked calmly, across the spacious room and he watched her, liking the swing to her gait, reluctantly admitting to himself that he wasn’t man enough to hold a girl like this. She climbed the staircase to the second floor, not hurrying, being as graceful about it as a cat. He thought it was all a great pity and he had another drink before going to bed. He rested very well.

Jean did not. She locked the door of her room and sat down on the bed for a moment before she threw herself across the satin spread and wept. She did it quietly, because he’d have derived so much satisfaction from hearing her. It was no easy thing to hold back, to let him know how much she had liked Charlie Hoyt, to betray her anger and terror over his murder and the callous way Leo described it.

Right from the first, she’d known Leo had killed him. Charlie hadn’t been so stupid that he didn’t know that Leo was following them, but he didn’t know Leo personally, had never even seen him at close range, so it was very likely that Leo had bought him a drink in macabre delight just before he murdered him.

Now Leo was going to kill Ted, then murder her. He was so sure of himself, of his competence as a killer. The sad part of it was the fact that he had gotten away with killing Charlie and his confidence made him dangerous.

The police would never believe her story if she went to them. Leo was too well known as a kind and honorable man. Also, in making such a charge she’d leave herself open to censure.

Leo would probably once again resort to the use of his enormous strength and size to kill Ted. It had worked so well with Charlie that he was bound to adopt the same safe, proven method. Besides, there’d been a series of muggings over the past two years and Leo was taking advantage of a situation, which was just like him.

She had no doubt but that he would then kill her. Not before Ted was dead, however. He’d want to boast about that and watch her go to pieces as she knew the same thing was about to happen to her.

There was much physical strength about Leo, but there were certain weaknesses in his character makeup. She would have to take advantage of these if she wanted to live — and she did. She feared death. Leo literally terrorized her.

She hadn’t slept well in weeks, ever since she realized Leo had been following her and Charlie. This couldn’t continue much longer or she’d give herself away, or make an idiot of herself by going to the police.

She slept badly again that night, but in the morning she pretended to be fast asleep and breathed heavily when she heard Leo’s footsteps pause outside her door.

A lock wouldn’t stop him if he wanted to come in, but Leo had his office to maintain and he insisted upon keeping up a reputation for reliability. It set a fine example for his employees. Besides, he would prefer to torture her with his threats in the evening, when he had more time and was more relaxed.

When she heard the rear door close and the whir of his car starter, she felt an easing of tension and she did go to sleep.

It was afternoon when she awakened. She showered, dressed and then went downstairs. It was the maid’s day off, so she made her own combination breakfast and lunch. After she did the dishes, she telephoned Ted and made a date to meet him on the corner of East and Hanover Streets at nine-thirty.

For the sake of formality, Leo telephoned her at five and said he would be very late getting home because of a pressure of business. Sometimes he told the truth about that, and she had no way of knowing if he was lying tonight.

Leo was lying. He worked later than usual, that was true, but only to kill time. He had two sandwiches and a quart of coffee sent in. By seven-thirty he was ready to leave. He removed all personal possessions from his pockets. Too often some object was left at the scene of a murder through sheer carelessness. He slipped into his dark gray topcoat, adjusted his hat to a rakish angle which gave him a less pugnacious look.

He drove toward his home, parked down a dark lane just off the road and waited. When Jean drove by in the red sports car, Leo followed at a considerable distance. She turned down Hanover, finally. It was a quiet side street and he strongly suspected she would pick up Ted along here.

As Jean’s brake lights suddenly flashed and she pulled in toward the curb, Leo made a casual turn off the avenue three blocks behind her and parked until she returned, this time with a man beside her.

Unfortunately, Leo knew very little about Ted. He didn’t know his name and had no idea where he lived or what his occupation might be. He did know that he could very easily overpower him at any time he chose. It might be tonight, if conditions warranted it, or next time they met.

He stayed well behind as Jean crossed town again and headed toward a highway. He chuckled when they stopped at a drive-in. Ted obviously wasn’t any more affluent or generous than good old Charlie had been.

Leo remained parked alongside the highway and close enough so that he could smell the tantalizing aroma of the hot dogs and hamburgers dispensed in great quantities by the place. He was glad they’d selected a drive-in that busy, it was easier for him to keep them under constant observation without being seen himself.

After half an hour they drove off. This time, under the fights of the drive-in, Leo had a fairly good look at the man with her. He wasn’t as young as Charlie had been, but physically about the same size. He’d offer no appreciable resistance. Leo felt quite content with things in general.

Killing Jean would be something else. He had no idea how he’d accomplish that. She was close to him and he’d automatically be involved, so he’d have to be most careful.

There was no great hurry anyway. Jean knew the futility of going to the police. He was too well known, too respected; they’d believe whatever story he countered hers with.

The red car was slowing up and suddenly it turned off into one of those small, unappealing motel courts. He hated her very much at that moment because she made the thing so cheap and tawdry.

There was really no point to waiting here. They might be hours, although he suspected she’d try to return home before he got there. However, she’d drop the man off at the same spot where she’d met him. She usually made a point of this and there was no reason to believe she’d do it any differently tonight.

He drove back to Third and Hanover, found a likely spot to park and settled down to wait. He was well supplied with his usual light-colored cigars. He smoked quietly and once he extended his arm to see if he was afflicted with any sign of tremors. His fingertips were steady as those of a statue. He felt quite proud of himself; he rather hoped Jean’s new man-in-her-life would present Leo with a favorable chance of killing him tonight.

Leo had no fear of consequences. It was all so simple when an intelligent man used his head. Of course if Jean hadn’t been quite so stupid and frightened, he might have run into trouble, but she worried him none at all. The best she could do was make accusations he would sadly refute, and she’d have absolutely no evidence to back up her fantasy.

They were later than usual tonight. He was fretting by eleven-thirty, and growing angry, which was a sensation he didn’t enjoy. It might make him too eager, too willing to risk chances in order to kill the man while he felt this way. He tried to regain his former calmness, but it was difficult to do and then he knew why his anger was so possessive.

Jean wasn’t trying to deceive him any longer. If she returned home after he did, she obviously didn’t care if he knew it.

His anger increased as he thought about this new factor, and when her car finally passed the spot where he was hidden and swung to the curb at the corner, Leo was in a state of high rage.

He heard her laugh. It seemed merry and bright and the man said something to her that made her laugh again. Leo crouched down and waited until she made the turn at the corner and headed back to pass his hiding place once more.

He left the lights off, waited until she was gone a few moments and then pulled out into the street and looked for the man. He spotted him walking slowly down Third Street, which was one of those streets which are paved, have sidewalks, but few houses and many vacant lots. The spot was absolutely ideal and the time was most favorable.

He drove on by the man who didn’t seem worried or in a hurry. Leo stopped two blocks away, turned the corner, parked, waited and brooded and grew angrier and angrier.

The man was approaching and he was whistling softly as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Suddenly Leo stepped out to confront him and, as he did so, his rage grew overpowering. He would tantalize the man, he’d tell him why he was doing this, but not until he had him firmly held and the man was slowly dying.

The man came to an abrupt stop as Leo charged toward him. But then he did a strange thing. He seemed to brace himself and suddenly he reached under his coat. Leo was moving too fast to stop, to even think.

It suddenly flashed across his mind that the man had drawn a gun. A gun! What business did a man like him have in carrying a weapon?

Leo kept on going. The gun levelled.

Leo screamed his rage. He saw the gun flash, he felt the shock of the bullet as it hit, but the pain was almost non-existent because he died practically on the instant as the heavy slug ripped through his chest and then his heart.

To an excited and somewhat frightened householder who dared to approach the scene, the man with the gun still in his hand, also produced a gold badge.

“I’m Detective Sergeant Ted Barnes,” he said. “I live a block away. Call police headquarters and tell them I was just compelled to shoot a man. I’ll wait here.”

“Is he — in need of an ambulance, Sergeant?”

“Not this one,” Sergeant Barnes said. “He must have been crazy, coming at me that way.”

Sergeant Barnes told the simple story to his captain a little while later.

“I’d been working on that Jean Damion blackmail thing. Mrs. Damion and I went out again on word she got from the blackmailer, but just like the other times, he didn’t show.”

The captain looked down at the dead man, now decently covered with a blanket. “Maybe this is the blackmailer. Somehow, he found out you were a cop—”

“Could be. Nothing on him in the way of identification and, believe me, Captain, there was murder in his eyes.”

“Well, we’ll have an explanation as soon as we find out who he is. No progress at all with the Damion blackmailer?”

“None. I’m beginning to think it’s all a hoax. Not by Mrs. Dam-ion. She’s just about one of the finest women I’ve ever met.”

“Beautiful too,” the Captain said. “Some of the other boys in the office think you’re mighty lucky.”

Sergeant Barnes walked toward the police car.

“I’ll stop at my home and tell my wife everything’s okay,” he said. “Then I’ll go down and make a report. I wish I could put into it the reason why this confounded idiot attacked me.”

“It all washes out eventually,” the captain said. “You run along. Oh yes, you might phone Mrs. Damion and tell her we’re going to put a new man on her case. You’ll be too busy working up this one, I’m afraid.”

“I’d appreciate the change, Captain. Sitting around cheap motels and drive-ins gets monotonous after awhile. Even with a beautiful and interesting woman.”

“I hope Mrs. Damion won’t be disappointed at the news.” The captain kidded him a bit.

Mrs. Damion wasn’t disappointed. There might be some questions later on when they found out it was her husband Ted had killed, but she was sure she could cope with any investigation. For tonight, she was content.

She went to bed and slept very well indeed.