A Hell of a Woman (Crime Masterworks) (15 page)

All dead. And all for nothing.

All for a dame that had been born rotten, and got more rotten every damned day of her life.

… I met her, and brought her back to the house. I told her about Staples and losing the money. I laid it out cold for her, kind of hoping, you know, that she'd bitch or give me a hard time about it. But she didn't let out a peep. She was sympathetic, sorry on my account, but she acted like it didn't matter to her. As long as she could be with me, that was all that mattered.

I began to think that maybe I might be mistaken about her. To feel that she was the swell kid I'd thought she was in the beginning. It was pretty hard to swallow, and, of course, I couldn't sell myself completely. But I did it enough. Enough to keep from slugging her. Enough to put up with her… for the time being.

She was all I had, you see; all I'd got for all I'd done. And I had to have someone with me. I'd almost always had someone with me.

I went out and got some more whiskey-it took just about my last nickel. I came back and we talked and drank. And after a while she talked and I drank. And pretty soon there was no more talk, and only me drinking.

She fell asleep with her head in my lap. I passed out. When morning came, we were still there on the lounge.

I fixed us some coffee and toast-I didn't want her slopping around with
my
grub. I told her to beat it back to her house and gather up anything she wanted to take with her. She left, hurrying, and I went back into the bedroom.

I stuffed all of Joyce's things into a big pasteboard carton. Clothes, cosmetics and toilet articles: everything. I carried the box out into the alley, and set it down by the trash can. Then, I drove down to the store.

The other collectors had checked out, and Staples was alone. He gave me the silverware contract and I struck a match to it, dropping it to the floor and kicking the ashes to pieces.

"Such a messy fellow," he pouted. "But, I suppose, I shouldn't chide you.. Your money, Frank. I'm making it a full fifty dollars."

I picked up the money, not saying anything. I gave him a slow, hard stare; and then I turned around and started to leave.

"Frank-" There was a worried note in his voice. "What-uh-what are your plans, Frank?"

"What's that to you?" I said.

"But I've always been concerned for you, dear boy. Always. And it's dawned on me that since you'll doubtless want to be moving on…"

I began to get it. He
was
worried. He wasn't just another hired hand that could pull out without a moment's notice. The books would have to be audited and the stock inventoried before he could leave; and that would take two or three weeks at the inside. And he didn't like the idea of me being in town during that time. I might get desperate, see? Might get drunk and jam myself up with the police… and do a little talking.

"I don't know," I said. "Why would I want to travel? I figure I'll stay right here."

He gave me a peeved look, but he opened the cash drawer. He took out all the currency inside, counted it and shoved it through the wicket.

"Four hundred and forty-seven dollars, Frank. Almost five hundred with the fifty you have. That should see you well on your way."

"I like it here," I said. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Now, Frank…"

"Not unless you do a lot better than that," I said. "Hell, make it a grand, anyway. With all you've got-"

"But I don't have it with me. It's put away in a safe place, and it's going to remain there until my resignation takes effect."

"Well.. well," I said. "Write me a check, then. Give me your check for five hundred."

"Oh,…" He shook his head, grinning. "Must you really be so obvious?… No checks. I couldn't oblige you even if I was stupid. It will take just about my entire bank balance to square with the cash drawer."

I was sure he was lying, but there wasn't much I could do about it. He was just a little worried-not actually scared-and I'd played that worry for all it was worth.

I picked up the money, and left.

… I owed two hundred and thirty on the car. I paid it off-I couldn't have a goddamned finance company on my tail-and went back to the house. Mona was there waiting for me. I got my stuff together, and loaded all our baggage into the car. There was quite a bit of it, since I figured I'd better take Joyce's. It wasn't monogramed and it was pretty good stuff, and it might look funny if I left it behind.

I'd always made out pretty well in Omaha. As well, I mean, as I've made out anywhere. So that's where I headed for, and we got there just after dark. We stopped at a diner for a bite to eat. The waitress brought me a newspaper. I glanced at it… and that was our last stop in Omaha.

I started driving again, and Idrove almost night and day. To Des Moines. Down across to Grand Island. Across to Denver… I sold the car in Denver, a lousy three hundred and twenty-five bucks, and we started traveling by bus.

Yeah, I suppose she wondered what the score was. Or maybe she didn't either. She hadn't been around enough to know when something was screwy and when it wasn't, so maybe she didn't wonder. Anyway, she didn't ask any questions, try to give me a hard time. And it was a damned good thing for her that she didn't.

I'd had it, brother, know what I mean? And it looked like I was going to keep right on getting it. Because Staples had given the cops a bum steer-tole 'em I had a seaman's ticket and probably intended to ship out- but that didn't help much. Nothing helped much. The crew haircut, the horn-rimmed glasses, the mustache. I was still scared as hell, afraid to settle down in one place.

It was lousy, the lousiest stinking luck a guy ever had in his life. It-goddammit, it just wasn't fair! I ask you, now, did you ever hear of coal being moved by anything but regular freight? You're damned right you didn't and neither did anyone else. But that one car-that one car-they had to make an exception out of it. It got hooked onto a manifest, an express freight, and it didn't stop until it got into Kansas City. It was in there at noon the next day, and they started unloading it right away-they couldn't wait, goddamn them. And inside of an hour, the police doctor was posting the body.

Well, that soon, it was easy to fix the time of death. And they knew the body couldn't have been put on the train but one place. So they wired the cops at that place, and the cops started sniffing around, and they found that box of stuff back in the alley by the trash can…

I had to keep moving. My money was running out, and I had to keep moving; and if I hadn't been saddled with her-chained to a goddamned tramp- Well.

Well, she finally started in on me. I didn't have it tough enough, I guess, so she had to make it tougher. Watching me all the time like I was a goddamned freak or something. Not saying anything unless I spoke to her. You know: a lot of little things. Wearing me down little by little.

And stupid! The only thing she could do was bawl, and she never missed a chance at that.

I was walking a little ahead of her that day in Dallas. I'd told her for God's sake, if she wanted to look and act like a goddamned tramp she could walk by herself. So I was ahead of her, like I say, and finally I looked around; and she wasn't there any more. Hardly anyone was on the sidewalk any more.

They were all out on the street about a half block back, crowded around the front of a big truck…

I WAS BORN in New York City of poor but honest parents, and from my earliest recollections I was out working and trying to make something of myself. But from my earliest recollections someone was always trying to give me a hard time. It was that way with everything I did. One way or another, I'd get the blocks put to me; so I will mercifully spare you the sordid details.

I kept thinking that if I had some little helpmeet to dwell with, the unequal struggle would not be so unequal. But I didn't have any more luck that way than I did in the other. Tramps, that's all I got. Five goddamned tramps in a row… or maybe it was six or seven, but it doesn't matter. It was like they were all the same person.

Well, finally I landed in Oklahoma City, and it looks like at last my luck has changed. Not with money. I was buying the gold, door to door, and how can you make any money when everybody cheats you? But it looked like it had sure changed with women. It not only looked that way, but it was that way. And as far as the money went, she had enough for forty people.

I met her when I was working this swell apartment house there in the City. I sneaked in past the doorman, and hers was the first apartment I hit. Classy? Beautiful? Well, all I can say is that I'd never seen anything like her. I could hardly believe it when she smiled and asked me inside.

I was ashamed to hit her up on the gold. I said I was looking for a party that used to live there, and so on, and I was sure sorry to have bothered her. And- "Now, now-" She laughed, but she didn't laugh at me, understand. It was nice and sympathetic. "Don't apologize for your job. Of course, I am a little disturbed to see a gentleman of your personality and evident ability doing this kind of-"

"Well," I said, "it's just temporary, see? Igot a little down on my luck, and I had to take what I could get."

"How dreadful! You sit right down and I'll fix you a nice drink."

I sat down on about two thousand dollars worth of lounge. She brought our drinks, and sat down next to me. She smiled at me and kept the conversation going, because naturally I was pretty speechless.

I finished my drink and started to get up. She put her hand on my arm. "Please," she said. "Please don't go. I've been so lonely since my husband died."

I said I was certainly sorry to hear of her husband's death. Her eyes clouded up a little for a moment, and then she shook her head. "It's lonely without him and n-naturally I didn't want him to die, b-but-but, oh, it's a terrible thing to say but I think I'd actually begun to hate him! He misrepresented himself. He pretended to be everything I wanted, and then after we were married… "

"I know what you mean," I said. "I know exactly what you mean, ba-uh-"

"Say it," she whispered, and she turned and threw her arms around me. "Say I'm your baby. Say it, say anything to me, do anything to… you like. But j-just don't go away…

And it was like a beautiful dream, dear reader, but I'm

_talk about dreams_ kidding you negative: that was exactly how I came to meet the lovely Helene, my princess charming. Thus, at last, were two love-hungry souls united.

You will notice that I haven't described her, but I can't. Because she looked so many different ways. When she went out where anyone else could see her, she always looked the same way: the way she looked that first day I met her. But when we were alone, well, if I hadn't known it was her sometimes, I wouldn't have known it was her

_a goddamned syphilitic bag_ the same woman. She had dozens of different complete outfits-clothes that a girl of eighteen would wear, or a woman of twenty-five, or thirty-five and so on. All complete from house dresses to evening gowns. And she had all of these different kinds of make-up. Powder and lipstick and rouge-dozens of different shades-hairpieces and eyelashes and brows and teethcaps. Even little glass things to slip in over her eyes and change their color. It was kind of a hobby with her, see, making herself up in all those different ways. And right at the start it made me a little uneasy; Igot to wondering what was real and what wasn't: And maybe if I saw her as she really

_one more bag like all the rest_ was, I wouldn't be able to take it. But that was just at first. You see it could be no other way, dear reader: I mean, she had to be

_a bag in a fleabag, for Christ's sake, and I couldn't go any_ beautiful and classy and all that a man desires in a woman. All the royal rooking I'd got from tramps, I couldn't take any more. And after the long unequal struggle I had at least found my heart's desire.

She'd inherited a pile of dough from her father; but that's

_stole her brother-in-law's savings_ about all I ever found out about her or him. I never even learned his name-her maiden name. She acted embarrassed when I mentioned anything about her background, so I didn't do it more than a time or two. I figured that the old man had probably made his pile selling clap medicine or something like that, and naturally she was embarrassed. And it was best to stay off the subject. After all, although I had always worked my can off and never complained, there were a few chapters in my own life which I preferred to remain sealed.

Her money was in a bank in another city-just where I

_hidden in the mattress_ don't know. But she was so embarrassed about her maiden name that she never cashed any checks there in town, or let the bank send her any dough. Whenever she ran short, she'd just hop a plane to this city and draw out what she wanted, and be back the same night.

She'd gone after some dough, the morning this story broke in the newspapers-a story about some people I used to know. And I

_wow! the wine and the hay! yeeoweeeee_ laughed so goddamned hard when I read it that I almost busted a rib. I read it and re-read it, all day long, and each time I laughed

_safe now. safe with a bag in a fleabag_ harder than ever:

The 20-year-old Stirling kidnap case appeared to be solved today with the arrest of an ex-store manager and admitted associate of the notorious Farraday gang.

The suspect is H.J. Staples, 55. More than $90,000 of the $100,000 ransom money was recovered from his swank Sarasota, Fla., hotel suite.

Staples first came under scrutiny of the authorities about four months ago when several hundred dollars in kidnap currency was deposited to the account of a store he then managed. Believing that the deposit was made as a "feeler," law officials refrained from arresting him until he put large and thoroughly incriminating sums into circulation.

Ramona Stirling was the only child of multimillionaire oil-man, Arthur Stirling, and his semiinvalid wife. Three years old at the time, Ramona was snatched from the grounds of the family's luxurious Tulsa estate, after her nurse had been lured into the house by a fake telephone call.

The ransom of $100,000 was demanded, and promptly paid. But an inexperienced newscaster revealed that the serial numbers of the currency had been recorded. With the divulging of this information, the Stirlings lost all contact with the kidnapers, and it is generally conceded that the child was murdered.

Mrs. Stirling died less than six weeks after the kidnaping. Her husband went to his grave the following month. In the absence of heirs, the great Stirling fortune was claimed by the state.

The suspect Staples quit his job some three months ago and began traveling about the country, making various small expenditures along the way. At last convinced, apparently, that time had cooled off the "hot" money, he arrived in Florida yesterday and began to splurge. His arrest followed.

Grilled by state, federal and local officials, he told a wildly implausible story of how he came into possession of the money. Full details are not yet available but it is known that his tale involved "Ma" Farraday (of the aforementioned gangsters) and Frank Dillon, a former associate of Staples', who had been sought for several months in connection with the death of his wife and their unborn child. Officials place no credence whatsoever in the suspect's "explanations."

That Staples was once on excellent terms with the gangsters is acknowledged. It is pointed out, however, that the entire Farraday family was wiped out more than two decades ago; and that, this being the case, Staples' statement that Dillon killed "Ma" for the ransom money is nothing short of ridiculous. Moreover, it was pointed out, the Farradays were bank robbers. They were never known to have indulged in any other criminal activity, and it is virtually unbelievable that they would have.

As for Dillon, authorities now believe that he was himself a murder victim and he is no longer being sought as a fugitive. They theorized that he and Mrs. Dillon somehow learned that Staples had the ransom cash, and that the latter killed both. Dillon's body, it was explained, could have been buried in a coal car which was destined for a conveyor-fed blast furnace…

I laughed and laughed when I read that story. I felt _safe. from what? not the thing I needed to be safe from_. good all day. And then evening came on, and I didn't laugh _and it was just like always only worse. the worst tramp_ any more and I didn't feel good anymore. Because it was _of all, the worst fleabag of all. and! couldn't take it_. quite a tragedy, when you got to thinking about it: and I _the end had to be better than this. so we drank the wine_. guess you know dear reader I'm a pretty soft-hearted son_we smoked the hay. we started sniffing the snow, they_ of-a-bitch. Yes, it was a terrible tragedy and whoever was _say you can't do it. guzzle the juice and puff the mary_ responsible for it ought to be jailed. Making a guy want _and snjff the c. but we did. we did that and then we went_ what he couldn't get. Making him so he couldn't get much, _on the h. we started riding the main line, we got sick as_ but he'd want a lot. Laying it all out for him every place _bastards but we kept right on and after a while, man oh, man_, he turned-the swell cars and clothes and places to live. _we didn't know from nothing. we were blind, too paralyzed_ Never letting him have anything, but always making him want. _to feel, too numb. but everything began to get beautiful._ Making him feel like a bastard because he didn't have what _she was and the room was and! was, it was like it ought_ he couldn't get. Making him hate himself, and if a guy _to be at the end if it's never been that way before. and_ hates himself how can he love anyone else?Helene came home, _we kept digging into the mattress, and the porter kept_ my fairy princess, and she saw I was feeling low so she fixed _bringing in the stuff. helene started vomiting a lot, but_ me a big drink. And right after that I began to get drowsy. _it didn't seem to bother her and it didn't bother me any._ I knew everything that was going on, I could hear and talk, _even the puke was beautiful like everything else. she was the_ I was really wide awake. But still I was sleepy; and if _most beautiful woman in the world and all I wanted was to do_ that doesn't make sense I can't help it. I went and _something nice for her, show her how much! appreciated and_ stretched out on the bed, and she came in and sat beside _loved her. and!didn' t have but the one thing, the only thing,_ me. She had a big pair of shears in her hand, and she sat _I guess, lever gave a woman. it was all! had, all!'d ever had_ snipping the ends of her hair, staring down at me. And I _to give, and! was afraid she might not want it but! had to_ looked at her, my eyes dropping shut. And she made herself _make the offer. she was all the women of the world rolled_ look like Joyce and then like Mona, and then… all the others. _into one. so it was the very least! could do, and!'d have to do_ She said I'd disappointed her; I'd turned out like all her _it fast. she was in the bat hroom puking. I got up and shoved_ other men. You deceived me, she said. You're no different _my foot through the window, it woke me up a little; the cold_ from the rest, Fred. And you'll have to pay like the rest. _air, and those jagged splinters of glass. but! probably_ I'm drugged, ain't I? I said. Oh, yes, she said. You won't _wouldn' tfeel anything, the load! was carrying. and she was_ feel a thing, and when you wake up it will all be over. _entitled to it. and anyway! wasn't going to need it any_ There'll be nothing more to worry about. Won't that be _longer, it was all over and there was no use in hanging_ wonderful, Fred, don't you want me to, darling. I nodded _onto that.!pulled off my clothes, what was left of them, and_ and she began unfastening and fumbling and then, then, _poked my leg through the window.! straddled it, sawing_ she lowered the shears. She began to use the shears, and _rocking back and forth, and it didn't take hardly any time_ then she was smiling again and letting me see. There, she _at all. helene came to the door of the bathroom, and she_ said, that's much better, isn't it? And, then, nice as I'd _didn't want it, all I had to give. she began laughing, screaming._ been, she started laughing. Screaming at me. _I threw myself out the window._