The Cunning Page 16

  No wonder, with that ruckus going on at Markses. Couldn’t make head or tails of it, not even after the police came and asked her all those silly questions. She told them about being taken sick and the Owenses bringing her home. And that’s when she found out what happened after she left.

  It had been dreadful, of course, just hearing about it—the robbery, and poor Emily Nesbitt stabbing that man. A good thing she’d been spared seeing it. And yet she couldn’t help but wish she had been there. After all, wasn’t she really the only one who suspected those men right from the beginning? She told the detective sergeant about it and he seemed very impressed, but he didn’t write anything down, just thanked her and said he’d be in touch if there was anything further.

  Then he went away and she made a cup of coffee and took an aspirin for her headache and looked out of the window.

  The lights stayed on at the Marks place for a long time after the police left, but there was nothing further to see. And by morning she knew it was all over.

  It was all over for the Owenses, too. Homer didn’t say anything to Lulu when they got home; just helped her undress and put her to bed. They were both sound asleep by the time the officers knocked on the door, both startled when they heard the news. They talked to the sergeant, of course, but not to each other. And when the police went away, there was no need to speak. Both of them knew that on Monday Homer would call the management office to make arrangements for the sale. It would be cold back in Nebraska this time of year, but at least they’d be safe there. Imagine somebody coming into a house like this, right under the noses of the security guards! And then that crazy woman with the knife, running around loose in the middle of the night. For that matter, those other two men who were in on it—they were still loose somewhere too, and no telling if the police would ever find them. No, it was better to go home.

  It was better for Dolly Gluck, too, after she took something for her nerves and settled down. Okay, so things hadn’t worked out with Joe Marks, but you can’t win ’em all. And maybe she had won—who the hell knows what she might have been getting into with a character like that? Guiseppe Marco, for Christ’s sake! Well, he wasn’t the only one, thank God. There was this guy who’d just moved in over on Seaview Heights—a widower, used to own a wholesale drug outfit. She’d have to find out more about him when this thing blew over.

  Roy Crile got home very late and very tired. He’d had to wait until the police left, to help Joe Marks and Ed Brice take the bodies out of his car. Then he drove off, not asking any questions or wanting any answers. It was out of his hands now, as he sat in the bedroom playing the alphabet game. G for guilt, H for hypocrisy, L for lying.

  But what other choice did they have? A matter of ethics, that’s all that was involved, and when you come right down to it the most important ethic is survival. So the game went on—M for morality, N for necessity, O for obligation. And P for pain—

  The pain was sudden, sharp and shearing, and when it came he forgot everything else until it ebbed. Then for a long time he just sat there, no longer wondering, no longer caring.

  Dying is the loneliest thing in the world . . .

  Tom and Jerry talked things over. “It’s not going to be easy,” Tom said. “Having a thing like this on your conscience.”

  “We didn’t do anything wrong,” Jerry told him. “All I’m worried about is that brother of Emily Nesbitt. Suppose she tells him or his wife what really happened?”

  “You saw how she was when they came for her—she was in such a state of shock I’m willing to bet she didn’t even realize what went on.”

  “But suppose the police get it out of her?”

  “Believe me, they won’t.” Tom shook his head. “But even if she does say something, it won’t make any sense to them. Not any more than her nonsense about being attacked. Did you hear what she was saying about God sending her to destroy the serpent in the Garden of Eden?”

  “Funny, isn’t it? I mean, this is Eden,” Jerry said.

  “Paradise lost, Jerry,” Tom said. “Mark my words, nobody’s going to press charges. They’ll just put her in an institution and forget about it.”

  “If we’re lucky.” Jerry frowned. “What bothers me is how Marks and Brice plan to dispose of those bodies.”

  “Marks is nobody’s fool,” Tom said. “He’ll find a way.”

  “He’d better.” Jerry’s voice was soft, as though in prayer. “He’d just better!”

  Irene Marks didn’t say a word.

  Strange how things worked out—Joe and Ed Brice being on opposite sides of the fence, you might say, all these years, and now the two of them were working together. And it wasn’t just necessity; she could feel the way they reacted to each other, sense their understanding. Why, the two of them might have been old friends!

  Of course what had happened was a terrible thing, but it couldn’t be helped now. Or, rather, it could only be helped in the way Joe was doing it. She’d always understood the need for what he did, and she understood now. That’s what a wife is for.

  After the men came in from the patio she had the coffee ready and waiting on the table, but neither of them would touch it until they’d cleaned up. Then they went out to the garage to make sure everything was put back in its proper place.

  While they were gone, Irene stepped out onto the patio. It was dark and quiet there; the lights of Eden had long since gone out for the night. Irene looked around, then came back into the house. There would be a big mess to clean up here, but that was no problem. All that mattered was the way the patio looked—not a speck of dirt left anywhere to show that they’d been digging.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Many things happened in the months that followed.

  Warren and Sylvia took a trip to Hawaii.

  They were away when Roy Crile died, and missed his funeral. So did Lulu and Homer, because they’d moved out. But most of the others were there, including Dolly Gluck—Dolly Manning now; she’d married Fred Manning, who used to own a wholesale drug outfit. Carrie Humphreys showed up, along with Ed Brice and the Markses; they were always together these days.

  Nobody talked about what had happened that night at the party. It was as if they all were happy to forget it, now that the police had stopped coming around. The last they’d heard, the search was still going on for the other two men, but they must have skipped across the border. Anyway, they’d never show up in Eden again; management had tightened security measures and that was the end of it. Old folks are pretty helpless—they need protection.

  When spring arrived, the roses were really beautiful in Joe Marks’ garden. Passing strangers paused to admire their rich redness and asked Joe what he’d done.

  The old man smiled. “The secret,” he said, “lies in the compost.”

  Table of Contents

  Back Cover

  Preview

  Titlepage

  Copyright

  THE CUNNING

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

 

 

 
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