She could have saved herself the trouble. Her body was now about as exciting to me as Jill’s, stretched out on a slab in the morgue. She stretched like a cat and ran her tongue over her lower lip and not a single spark flew.
“We went to the bar and looked at the pictures, Jackie,” I continued. “Then you got up to make a phone call. You didn’t call your answering service. You called Traynor, told him to get to your apartment right away. I don’t know what reason you gave him, but you pulled the strings and he performed on schedule. You worked a stall act at the bar to give him time to get there, dawdled in the john, all of that. Then we got to your apartment to look for Jackie’s address book. You made me wait downstairs. What would have happened if I went up with you?”
“I knew you wouldn’t, Ed.”
“The hell you did. You hoped I wouldn’t but you had it all figured out if I did. I was lucky I stayed downstairs.”
Her eyes went innocently wide.
“Because you would have killed me. You would have used your gun on me and then you would have used my gun on Traynor to make it look as though we shot each other. That would have been a little tricky to pull off but you would have done it if necessary. Then with both of us dead you could try your story on the police.
“It might have worked too. But it wasn’t as sure a thing as it could have been, and that was why you wanted me to stay downstairs to back you up. However, you would have made your play either way.”
“Oh, no, Ed. That’s not true!” She put her heart into it. “I never could have killed you, Ed.”
“No?”
“Ed, I—”
I told her to save it. “You went upstairs and let yourself in,” I continued. “Traynor came over to kiss you and you screamed your head off. His face must have been something to see just then. You had him running around in circles anyway, and a good loud scream must have rattled the hell out of him. But he didn’t have much time to worry about it. You took out the gun and shot him. Then you gave out with another scream.
“This afternoon I thought about that part of it. The door was locked when I got upstairs. I had to shoot it off. Why would you lock the door when you were ducking into the apartment for a minute? When would you get a chance to close the door with Traynor waiting to kill you?
“You did it to stall. It gave you a few extra seconds to tear your dress and build the scene. By the time I shot my way through the door you were into your act, and from then on everything was set up. It couldn’t miss, could it?”
She didn’t answer.
“The gun checked out, the same weapon used for both killings. I backed your story every step of the way. You ran one hell of a lot of risks but things broke right for you each time. And by the time you left Headquarters you were clear. There would be a coroner’s inquest, maybe a few more questions that you could answer with your eyes closed. Then Jill’s body would be buried with your name on the headstone. You’d be Jill, with no debts and whatever money she had had, plus fifty thousand dollars worth of insurance money.”
She didn’t answer. Her hands moved down over her own naked flesh in a calculated movement that was supposed to look unconscious and automatic. I remembered making love to her, the flavor of her embrace, the touch of her body.
“You almost made it,” I said.
“What—tipped you off, Ed? The birthmark?”
“Partly. That clinched it, of course. As soon as I got the idea that it was you in the photographs, I knew you had lied to me. And that was the trouble with the whole gambit, Jackie. It was all built on a pyramid of lies. As soon as one of them broke down, the whole thing collapsed. All the little inconsistencies that I had glossed over came back in spades. Every loophole showed up bright and clear.”
“Then I should have gotten those pictures back. I could have said I wanted to burn them—”
“I would have figured it anyway.”
“How?”
I thought for a second. “It was too pat,” I said. “You timed everything so perfectly, Jackie. So damned perfectly. Traynor was always at the right place just at the right time. Somebody had to be calling his signals.
“And another thing—the powder burns on Jill’s forehead. That was too neat and cute. If she knew Traynor was after her, she wouldn’t have let him get that close. She would have run or tried to fight or something. The death scene looked as though it had been the handiwork of someone she knew, someone she wasn’t afraid of.” I frowned. “Someone like her sister.”
“I…I wanted to make it fast.”
“Uh-huh. You should have walked away and fired three or four shots into her. It would have looked better that way.”
“I wanted Jill to die quickly. I didn’t want it to hurt her.”
“Sure. You’re an angel of mercy and an angel of death all rolled into one. There was a little whore and she had a little bore right in the middle of her forehead. You should have stuck to the other nursery rhyme.”
“What rhyme?”
“The one about Jackie and Jill going over the hill,” I said. “Get dressed.”
“You’re turning me in?”
“What do you think?”
But she wasn’t through yet. Her lush body flexed and her lips curled in a sensual smile. “Look at me,” she said.
I looked.
“I’m well off now financially, Ed. I’m not good at arithmetic but I’m sure you can figure it out. I’ll bet it’s a lot of money, right?”
“It’s a lot of money.”
“And there would be more than money, Ed.” Her hands touched her breasts. “I have a good clientele.”
I stood up. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, got to her feet, and came toward me. “Get dressed,” I sneered. “I can’t stand the sight of you.”
She blinked. Maybe no one had ever told her that before. She stood still. I pushed her aside, walked past her, and picked up the phone. I started dialing. I was making more work for Jerry Gunther, but I had a hunch he wouldn’t mind.
PERMISSIONS
B. L. Lawrence, pseud. “One Night of Death.” Guilty, November 1958.
B. L. Lawrence, pseud. “Sweet Little Racket.” Trapped, April 1959.
Sheldon Lord, pseud. “Bargain in Blood.” Off Beat, February 1959.
Sheldon Lord, pseud. “Just Window Shopping.” Man’s Magazine, December 1962; reprinted in Guy, October 1968.*
“The Bad Night.” Guilty, November 1958.
“The Badger Game.” Trapped, February 1960.
“Bride of Violence.” Two-Fisted, December 1959.
“The Burning Fury.” Off Beat, February 1959.
“The Dope.” Guilty, July 1958.
“A Fire at Night.” Manhunt, June 1958.
“Frozen Stiff.” Manhunt, June 1962.
“Hate Goes Courting.” Web, June 1958.
“I Don’t Fool Around.” Trapped, February 1961.
“Lie Back and Enjoy It.” Trapped, October 1958.
“Look Death in the Eye.” Web, April 1959.
“Make a Prison.” Science Fiction Stories, January 1959.*
“Man with a Passion.” Sure Fire, July 1958.
“Murder Is My Business.” Off Beat, September 1958.
“The Naked and the Deadly.” Man’s Magazine, October 1962; reprinted in Guy, December 1963.
“Package Deal.” Ed McBain’s Mystery Book, Issue 3, 1961.
“Professional Killer.” Trapped, April 1959.
“Pseudo Identity.” Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, November 1966.
“Ride a White Horse.” Manhunt, December 1958.
“A Shroud for the Damned.” Keyhole, April 1962.
“Stag Party Girl.” Man’s Magazine, February 1963; reprinted in Guy, February 1965.
“Twin Call Girls.” Man’s Magazine, August 1963; reprinted in Guy, August 1965.
“The Way to Power.” Trapped, June 1958.
“You Can’t Lose.” Manhunt, February 1958.
About the Auth
or
One of the most widely recognized names in the mystery/suspense genre, LAWRENCE BLOCK is a Mystery Writers of America Grand Master, a four-time winner of the Edgar and Shamus awards, and a recipient of prizes in France, Germany, England, and Japan.
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Also by Lawrence Block
KELLER’S GREATEST HITS
Hit Man • Hit List • Hit Parade • Hit and Run
THE MATTHEW SCUDDER NOVELS
The Sins of the Fathers • Time to Murder and Create
In the Midst of Death • A Stab in the Dark • Eight Million Ways to Die
When the Sacred Ginmill Closes • Out on the Cutting Edge
A Ticket to the Boneyard • A Dance at the Slaughterhouse
A Walk Among the Tombstones • The Devil Knows You’re Dead
A Long Line of Dead Men • Even the Wicked • Everybody Dies
Hope to Die • All the Flowers Are Dying
THE BERNIE RHODENBARR MYSTERIES
Burglars Can’t Be Choosers • The Burglar in the Closet
The Burglar Who Liked to Quote Kipling
The Burglar Who Studied Spinoza
The Burglar Who Painted Like Mondrian
The Burglar Who Traded Ted Williams
The Burglar Who Thought He Was Bogart • The Burglar in the Library
The Burglar in the Rye • The Burglar on the Prowl
THE ADVENTURES OF EVAN TANNER
The Thief Who Couldn’t Sleep • The Canceled Czech
Tanner’s Twelve Singers • Two for Tanner • Tanner’s Tiger
Here Comes a Hero • Me Tanner, You Jane • Tanner on Ice
THE AFFAIRS OF CHIP HARRISON
No Score • Chip Harrison Scores Again • Make Out with Murder
The Topless Tulip Caper
OTHER NOVELS
After the First Death • Ariel • Cinderella Sims • Coward’s Kiss
Deadly Honeymoon • A Diet of Treacle
The Girl with the Long Green Heart
Grifter’s Game • Killing Castro • Lucky at Cards
Not Comin’ Home to You • Random Walk • Ronald Rabbit Is a Dirty
Old Man • Small Town • The Specialists • Such Men Are Dangerous
The Triumph of Evil • You Could Call It Murder
COLLECTED SHORT STORIES
Sometimes They Bite • Like a Lamb to Slaughter
Some Days You Get the Bear • Ehrengraf for the Defense • Enough Rope
BOOKS FOR WRITERS
Writing the Novel: From Plot to Print • Telling Lies for Fun and Profit
Write for Your Life • Spider, Spin Me a Web
ANTHOLOGIES EDITED
Death Cruise • Master’s Choice • Master’s Choice 2 • Opening Shots
Opening Shots 2 • Speaking of Lust • Speaking of Greed
Blood on Their Hands • Gangsters, Swindlers, Killers, and Thieves
Manhattan Noir • Manhattan Noir 2
WRITING FOR PERFORMANCE
How Far (one-act play) • My Blueberry Nights (film)
Tilt! (episodic TV)
Credits
Cover design by Robin Bilardello
Cover illustration © CSA Images
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ONE NIGHT STANDS AND LOST WEEKENDS. Copyright © 1999, 2001 by Lawrence Block. Introduction copyright © 2008 by Lawrence Block. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Mobipocket Reader October 2008 ISBN 978-0-06-172245-5
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* This story was discovered by Lynn Munroe in Guy, October 1968; somewhat later Mr. Munroe located an earlier appearance in Man’s Magazine, December 1962. The author recalls writing “Just Window Shopping” for Pontiac Publications circa 1958, but it has not been located in any of their magazines.
* “Make a Prison” is here published as “Nor Iron Bars a Cage.”
One Night Stands; Lost weekends Page 37
