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 twent—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.
CHAPTER VI
Mavis was asleep when I got in, but my switching on the light awakened her. Sitting up, she glanced at her watch and gave me an inquiring look.
“It looks good,” I said. “She’s around forty and wants a man so bad, she’s ready to do anything to get one. She decided she wanted to marry me two minutes after we met.”
I started to undress.
“Does she have any money?” Mavis asked.
“Her husband left some insurance. I didn’t ask how much, but she implied it was twenty thousand at least.”
Mavis’s eyes lit up. “Have you worked out a plan yet?”
“Not yet,” I said. “But she’s overboard enough to rise to almost anything. I’ll dream up some kind of an investment for her.”
Mavis watched as I hung my suit up. “Is she pretty?” she asked finally.
“She’s forty, or close to it, and weighs a hundred forty-two pounds.”
“She could still be pretty,” Mavis said. “They say Venus di Milo weighed a hundred and forty.”
“Standards of beauty have changed since then,” I told her. “You can see for yourself tomorrow. You’re going to meet her. I told her my sister was with me. Incidentally, she thinks we’re staying in a motor court. We’ll have to move to one tomorrow. Do you still have the outfit you wore when we met?”
“Of course. I’ve worn it every time I played Mary Applebee.”
“Wear it again tomorrow,” I said. “We’re supposed to be in the middle-income class.”
I switched out the light and climbed into bed. Mavis moved to snuggle in my arms. “Love me?” she asked.
“Uh-huh.”
Her arms went about my neck and she pressed her body against mine.
“Not tonight,” I said. “I’m worn to a frazzle.”
The next morning we checked out of the Shamrock and moved to a motel. I had Mavis remove her wedding band and engagement ring. We registered in separate cabins as Samuel Plainfield and Miss Mavis Plainfield.
I had arranged to take Hannah to lunch and introduce her to my “sister.” We arrived at the house at noon, and I took Mavis inside with me. Mavis looked relieved when she saw the woman, deciding she wasn’t even in the running as competition. Why she had been worried in the first place, I don’t know, because even before she met Hannah, she knew she had a fifteen-year youth advantage.
Hannah greeted her politely, asked how she liked Houston, then inquired what had brought Mavis down there. This surprised me a little, as she hadn’t even asked me that. She hadn’t asked me anything at all, as a matter of fact, apparently being so overwhelmed by my appearance in her life that she was afraid questioning her good luck might awaken her from her dream and cause me to disappear.
Mavis said, “When Sam came down here, I just decided to come along. So I quit my job. I figured I wouldn’t have any trouble getting another one here. I’m a trained stenographer.”
I took both women to a moderately-priced restaurant downtown for lunch.
In Mavis’s presence Hannah was a little more subdued than she’d been the previous night. She didn’t even mention marriage. But she kept her bright eyes on me constantly, and there was a proprietory air about her that I could tell rankled Mavis a little.
Mavis didn’t show it, however. On the surface she was politely friendly to the woman. Hannah failed to detect the slight edginess beneath the surface politeness. As a matter of fact, she paid little attention to Mavis after their brief conversation at the house. She was too wrapped up in me.
After lunch we dropped Mavis off to do some shopping, and Hannah and I went back to her house for further discussion. The minute the door closed behind us, the woman flew into my arms. It was apparent we weren’t going to get any discussing done in the front room. I gave in gracefully and took her upstairs.
Later, lying side-by-side in bed, we finally got around to future plans. Hannah was all set to apply for a marriage license the moment I said the word.
“I think you’re the woman I’ve been looking for, Hannah,” I told her. “But I still think we ought to wait a short time until we’re both sure.”
“I’m sure,” she said, leaning over to give me a resounding smack on the cheek. “But you take all the time you want, honey.”
I said, “The only thing that bothers me is I don’t like the idea of living on a woman. I’ve only got a couple of thousand bucks. And you’ve got so much more.”
Her huge bosom pushed against my chest as she snuggled up against me. “You’ll pay your way by running the gym, Sam. Don’t worry about it.”
“You’ll still have all the money,” I said. “You own the house, the business, and you have the bank account.”
“I won’t after we’re married, honey. With me marriage is fifty-fifty. Gaylord and I always had everything in both our names. With you and me it’s gonna be the same. We split right down the middle. I’ll have a lawyer put half the business and half the house in your name. And change the rest that Gaylord left me over the same way.”
I said, “That insurance money ought to be invested instead of just lying idle in a bank.”
“It’s drawing good interest, honey.”
“Not what solid, gilt-edged securities would draw. I have a broker friend in New York who knows the market inside out. With ten or twenty thousand capital, I could build a fortune in a year.”
“Gaylord always said to stay clear of the stock market,” she said disapprovingly. “Neither one of us went for gambling.”
“There’s a difference between investment and gambling, Hannah.”
“Well, we’ll talk about that after we’re married,” she said. “No point even discussing it till then.”
I spent the rest of the day and that evening with Hannah. We dined at the house, as she said she wanted to demonstrate how well she could cook. She could, too. She served a delicious meal.
Several times I swung the conversation back to the subject of investments, but each time got the same firm answer. Despite her eagerness to get married, there was a grain of hard common sense in her. I’d been over-optimistic in thinking that merely taking her to bed would make her putty in my hands. Obviously she had no intention of loosening up with a single nickel until she had me safely married.
I got back to the motel about midnight to find Mavis waiting in my cabin. A freshly-opened bottle of whisky with about two ounces gone stood on the dresser next to a bowl of melting ice. Mavis was nursing the dregs of a highball. The ashtray next to her contained a half-dozen lipstick-stained butts. She had been waiting for some time.
She watched silently as I mixed myself a drink, then drained the last sip from her glass and held it out. I made her one too.
She sampled it before asking, “Any progress?”
I said, “It’s going to be tougher than I expected. It looks as though she has no intention of loosening up until after we’re married.”
Mavis frowned. “What are you going to do?”
I took a large swallow of my drink. “I thought that over on the way home. There’s only one thing to do.”
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br /> “What?”
“Marry her,” I said.
Mavis’s eyes grew wide. “Bigamy?”
“Why not? It’d be under a fake name. It wouldn’t affect the legality of our marriage even if I used my own name.”
“But you’d have to sleep with her,” Mavis protested.
I frowned at her. “This is business, Mavis. Don’t go sentimental on me.”
“Would you let me sleep with another man to work a dodge?” she demanded.
“I’d knock your head off if you suggested it,” I growled at her. “It’s not the same thing. And besides, you think I look forward to sleeping with the woman? You’ve seen what she’s like. It’s just business.”
“Monkey business,” she said hotly. “I won’t have it.”
I took a sip of my drink, eyeing her coldly over the edge of my glass. When I lowered it again, I asked ominously, “You’re giving me orders?”
She flushed. “I mean, I don’t want it. I’m asking you, Sam.”
I said bluntly, “You’re a little late. We’ve already been in bed together. In fact we haven’t been much of anywhere else except to the gym last night and to lunch today. When Hannah said in her letter that she was tired of sleeping alone, it was an understatement. She seems determined to make up for each month of widowhood in a day.”
Mavis’s face turned white. She said nothing.
“I had to,” I said roughly. “There was no other way to loosen her up. I’m not going to pass up twenty grand just because you’re jealous. You think I like making love to a fat, middle-aged slob?”
She still said nothing.
“Keep in mind who’s the boss in this family,” I advised her. “I give the orders and you take them. We’ll play this my way, and you’ll like it.”
Mavis gave her head a slow shake. Her face was still dead white. “We’ll play it your way, if you insist, Sam. You’re the boss. But you could beat me till I bled and I wouldn’t like it.”
“When did I ever beat you?” I asked ironically.
“Never physically,” she said in a low voice.
The next day I told Hannah I had decided I wanted to get married. We had our blood tests that same afternoon. This was a Friday, and we set the date for the following Wednesday. Hannah made no objecton when I insisted on a quiet ceremony before a J.P. with Mavis as the only witness.
Kiss and Kill Page 4
