Nothing More Than Murder

by Jim Thompson

  Sheriff Rufe Waters and his deputy, Randy Cobb, sauntered up and stood beside me at the curb.

  “Good show, Joe?” Rufe said.

  “Fair,” I said.

  “Ain’t got an empty seat or two you ain’t using?” said Randy.

  “Sure, I have,” I said, and I gave the doorman the nod. “You boys go on in.”

  It wasn’t more than fifteen minutes before Web Clay, our county attorney, showed up with his wife; and I had to pass them in, too. And before the evening was over I must have walked in a dozen.

  Hell, I don’t know how people get that way. I don’t know what they’re thinking about. Sure, I’ve got empty seats. That’s the only kind I can sell. What if I walked into a bank and asked ’em if they had some four-bit pieces they weren’t using.

  It’s the same proposition.

  The Literary Club brought an author here once, and I was sold a ticket so I went to hear him. He was a big gawky guy named Thomas or Thompson or something like that, and I guess he’d put a few under his belt because he sure pulled all the stops.

  He spent most of his time talking about people who asked him for free books and seemed to think he ought to be tickled to death to give ’em away. He said that sarcasm was wasted on such people and that the homicide laws ought to be amended to take care of them. Well, there wasn’t a person in the house that hadn’t hit me for an Annie Oakley at one time or another. But do you know what? Instead of getting mad or ashamed, they sat there and clapped their hands off. They didn’t seem to realize that they were the kind of people this author was talking about.

  Well…

  At ten-thirty, Mrs. Artie Fletcher closed her window so fast she almost took off a customer’s fingers; and Harry Clinkscales tore off without even pulling the switch on the popcorn machine.

  I took a look inside. Jimmie Nedry was just making one of his perfect change-overs, and his daughter Lottie, my usher, was brushing up the aisles. I went back outside again. I didn’t need to worry about those two. They’d be on the job as long as there was a customer in the house, and everything would be in good shape when they left.

  I went into the box office, checked the receipts, and locked them in the floor safe. Just before midnight while I was taking a last turn through the house, Jimmie’s two boys came in with what was left of the display matter. They’d been on the run all day, and they were shaking and so out of breath they could hardly talk. They hurried right on home with Lottie to get supper ready before Jimmie got there.

  All of a sudden it hit me that the only people who were dependable and hard working were those that didn’t amount to anything. It wasn’t fair, but it was that way. And I wondered why it was.

  I wondered why, when there was so damned many of ’em, they didn’t get together and run things themselves. And I made up my mind if they ever did get an organization—a going organization, that is—they could count me in!

  12

  Elizabeth woke me up early Saturday morning.

  “The film truck just came, Joe,” she said. “It’s here.”

  “‘Jeopardy of the Jungle’?”

  “Yes. You’d better get up right away. We’ve got a lot to do.”

  I said okay, and she left the room. I didn’t want to get up. I wanted to stay right there and leave everything that was going to happen a good long way in the future. And I couldn’t. I couldn’t because, while I didn’t want to go through with it, I didn’t want not to, either. That sounds crazy but it’s the only way I know to put it.

  Just a few days before, any little thing was enough to make me throw the brakes on. Like, for instance, passing up that hitchhiker. But now I knew nothing could stop me. I hadn’t liked the scheme, but neither had I fought it. I’d just rocked along with it, getting a little more used to it every minute, and now it was doing the rocking.

  I couldn’t back out.

  I didn’t want to back out.

  Coming out of the bathroom, I glanced into Elizabeth’s room. A hat with a heavy veil was laying—lying—on a chair near the bed. Next to it was a little overnight bag. The hat was an old one and would never be missed in case anyone should get funny ideas and start checking up. The few odds and ends she was taking in the bag would never be missed, either.

  I went downstairs, swallowed some coffee, and went out to the garage.

  I’d got a travelogue, a newsreel, and a cartoon along with “Jeopardy.” In all there were twenty-three reels of film.

  “I was just thinking,” I said. “Carol may not be able to get anyone. Perhaps we ought to wait until—”

  “How are you going to wait?” Elizabeth asked. “You’ve got to go into the city.”

  “I don’t have to,” I said.

  “Yes, you do, Joe. The farther you’re away from things the better off it’ll be. If Carol shouldn’t get anyone there’s no harm done. I’ll straighten things up and we’ll try again in a few weeks.”

  “But someone might look in and—”

  “Don’t be silly. I’ll keep the door locked.”

  We ran the reels through the rewind to shake the water off of them. It was turned on full speed, since we weren’t checking the film, and it didn’t take long.

  I unreeled fifteen or twenty feet of the cartoon, and Elizabeth knitted it back and forth through the other film. We shoved the pile underneath the rewind table.

  I pulled the good cord loose from its connections, and hooked the motor up with the old one. I threw a few loops around it with the cartoon and pulled the rest of the reel under the table.

  I stood back and looked things over.

  The film was touching the bare copper of the cord in a couple of places. I shifted it back and forth until it was just right. Carol wouldn’t need more than a minute. But she’d sure as hell need that.

  Elizabeth was sitting on the stool. She looked even paler than usual.

  “You didn’t need to help with this,” I said. “I could have done it.”

  She got up. “You’re all through now? You’re not going to leave that other cord on the floor, are you?”

  “Why not? It’s the best way of getting rid of it.”

  “Yes,” she said. And I wasn’t just imagining that she was paler then.

  She went out the door ahead of me. I put the padlock on it, and gave her the key.

  That’s the way it was. We’d done it so often in our minds that I guess it would have seemed stranger not doing it than doing it.

  I went up to my room, threw a few things into my grip, and came back downstairs. Elizabeth got up from a chair in the living-room and took a step toward me. I took one toward her.

  “Well, Joe?” she said.

  “Well,” I said. “I guess this is it. I guess we won’t be seeing each other anymore. That is, if Carol gets the—her party.”

  “She’ll get her, all right,” said Elizabeth. “I’ve never had any doubt about that.”

  “Well, good-bye,” I said. “I’ll always remember you, Elizabeth.”

  “You’d better, Joe.”

  “I’ll— What do you mean?”

  “Twenty-five thousand dollars.”

  “That’s what we agreed on,” I said. “Where’s the argument?”

  I hoped she wouldn’t say anything more. It’s hell to want to sock your wife the last time you’re seeing her.

  “I want to make myself clear, Joe. If your memory should fail you there will be exceedingly unpleasant consequences.”

  “Hell,” I said, “what do you think I am, anyway?”

  “Exactly what I always did.”

  I walked out.

  Ordinarily, if I’d wanted to go into the city I wouldn’t have bothered to make excuses to anyone. I’d have just gone. But now it was different. I had to have a good reason for going, and there was only one I could think of.

  I beat Jimmie Nedry to the show by about thirty minutes, and went up to the projection booth. By the time he got there I’d taken the parts cabinet off the wall and had everything
in it spread out on the rewind table.

  He didn’t say anything at first, just gave me that sullen, hopeless look he’d been pulling lately, and stripped out of his coat, shirt, and undershirt. Those carbon arcs really heat up the booth. I went on pawing, though, and finally he asked me what I was looking for.

  “I’m looking for the spare photoelectric cells for our sound heads,” I said. “It doesn’t look like we have any.”

  “We’ve got ’em,” he grunted.

  “Well, I don’t believe we have, Jimmie,” I said. “I thought I’d make a check on our parts last night when you were on your relief, and I couldn’t find them then. And I’ve taken everything out this morning, and—”

  “They got to be there,” he said. “Let me look.” He began sorting through the stuff impatiently, half sore. He wound up by picking up each part separately and putting it back in the cabinet. His face had fallen about a foot.

  “I—I just can’t believe it, Mr. Wilmot. We had some spares up there, well, I know it couldn’t have been more than two or three days ago.”

  “You haven’t used any since?”

  “Of course I ain’t! If I had I’d have told you so you could reorder.”

  “Hmmm,” I said. “Did you actually see the cells or just the little carton they come in?”

  “Well—”

  “That’s it,” I said. “At one time or another we’ve replaced the cells in the machines and put the empty cartons back in the cabinet. I’m not saying you did it. I may have myself.”

  “But what became of the cartons?”

  “They must have dropped down and got swept out. No one would pay any attention to them as long as they were empty.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “I’m not blaming you, Jimmie. The thing is to get some more. We don’t want to be playing silent over Sunday.”

  “No,” he nodded, “that would be bad. You’ll bring some cells back when you go into the city?”

  “I wasn’t planning on going into the city,” I said, “but I’ll have to now. It’s too late for the express to reach us, and the stores will be closed tomorrow.”

  “Yeah—I see.” He rubbed his chin, giving me a puzzled, funny look. “When’ll you be back?”

  “Just as soon as I get the cells. Probably early tomorrow morning.”

  “You—you won’t have to stay over for anything else?”

  “Why should I?”

  “Nothin’,” he mumbled, turning around to the projectors. “I was just wondering.”

  A hundred miles up the road I stopped at a restaurant for a bite to eat, and called Carol from a booth phone. She must have been waiting right by the phone because she answered right away.

  “I’m coming in,” I said. “Will I get to see you?”

  She said, “No. I’m leaving right away.”

  That was right. It was what she was supposed to say.

  “Get your baggage taken care of?”

  “Not all of it,” she said. “I’ll send for the rest later.”

  That was right, too.

  “Did you get in touch with that party you spoke about?”

  “Yes. And she’s going to be very helpful.”

  “Well, have a good trip,” I said. “And be careful.”

  “I will be. You be careful,” she said.

  We said good-bye and hung up.

  13

  The car was running pretty hot by the time I got to the city, and I had good reason to take it to a garage. I told them I wanted the radiator back-flushed, a grease job, and an oil change. They were rushed, since it was Saturday, and they wouldn’t promise to get the work done before nine that night. I groused a little about it, but I left the car.

  Of course, if I’d started back home right away I couldn’t have got there ahead of Carol. But I didn’t want to be on the road when things popped. I wanted to be able to prove where I was.

  I bought two photoelectric cells at the theatrical equipment house, and dropped them into the first trash can I passed. It was just like throwing twelve bucks away, but it couldn’t be helped. I’d left the two I’d lifted from the show in the car, and there was no way I could explain the extras. And, anyway, what was twelve bucks?

  I could prove that I’d had to come into the city, and that I’d actually bought the cells. Twelve dollars was pretty cheap for that.

  I ate dinner at a restaurant on film row, and walked around awhile, restless, not knowing what to do with myself. All the exchanges except Hap Chance’s had been closed since noon, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to kill any time with him. On the other hand, a sharpie like that might be just the kind to use for an alibi.

  I stopped across the street from his place, trying to decide whether to drop in on him, and he looked out and saw me. He got up, dimmed the lights and drew the shades. I was thinking, What the hell? when he opened the door and motioned.

  I crossed the street. “What’s up, Hap?” I said.

  “Pop in, laddie,” he said. “I’ll tell you in a sec.”

  He closed the door and locked it, and we went back to his desk. He brought out the whisky and a couple of glasses, and we both had a drink. He poured a second for himself.

  “Well, Hap?” I said.

  “I’ve got some information for you, old man. I wouldn’t care to have anyone know it came from me.”

  “All right,” I said. “Under the hat.”

  “You recall our conversation of a few days ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did you make of it?”

  “Why,” I said, “I hadn’t thought much about it. I supposed, maybe, you had a buyer for a house and you thought you might make a deal for mine.”

  “Nothing else?”

  “No.”

  He frowned slightly, shaking his head. “I suppose not. I didn’t give you a great deal to go on. Still, there at the last, when you forgot to buy paper on ‘Jep’—”

  “I don’t claim a perfect memory. What’s on your mind, Hap?”

  “You’re broke, laddie.”

  “What?” I said.

  “I say you’re stony. I’d have told you the other night, but I wasn’t too sure about my facts. At any rate, I don’t know that there’s anything you could have done about it.”

  “You haven’t told me anything yet,” I said. “What do you mean I’m broke?”

  “Sol Panzer’s moving in on you.”

  I laughed. “Nuts, Hap.”

  “All right, laddie.”

  “The town’s too small for Panzpalace. It isn’t a fourth big enough.”

  “It’s big enough,” said Hap. “It’s big enough if Sol says it is. Think it over. In ten years you’ve built a fine house with a fine business out of nothing. Sol can point to that if he needs to justify himself, which he won’t. Panzer owns control of Panzpalace. He’s always made money for the stockholders. Now—”

  “I don’t give a damn about that,” I said. “Panzpalace doesn’t build anything less than a million-dollar house, and a million-dollar house just won’t pay off there.”

  “You mean you can’t sell enough admissions?”

  “Certainly that’s what I mean. How else could you make it pay?”

  “Oh, laddie”—Hap made a clicking noise with his tongue—“what hour yesterday were you born? You can make it pay by cutting your overhead, rather, by shifting the costs. You can’t do it because you don’t have any place to shift them to. But Sol has ninety-three other houses. He can make a house earn just as much or just as little as he wants it to.”

  “Yeah, but—but why does he want to do it?”

  “I dropped you a hint about that the other night. I asked you if there was a chance that your house would be worth a million—meaning, of course, would anyone be jailed for paying you that much for it. I thought we might peddle it to him.”

  “Did you try?”

  “No use. Merely wishful thinking on my part. There’s a lot of loose change when you start breaking up a million do
llars, but you have to break it to get it. Sol has to build. I saw that as soon as I’d taken time to study the matter.”

  I began to tremble inside. I mopped my face.

  “You’re not lying to me, Hap?”

  “Really, old man—but I can’t blame you for being disturbed. If you’re looking for confirmation, drop around to the exchanges and try to buy for next season. I think you’ll find that they’ll stall you.”

  “Jesus!” I said.

  “Or have they already?”

  “I see it was a stall, now,” I said. “I didn’t think anything of it at the time. It’s such a relief not to have them trying to load you that I—”

  Hap clicked his tongue again, trying to look sympathetic. I saw his angle. Sol hadn’t needed his stuff to shut me out. The other exchanges were enough. Now, since it wasn’t costing him anything, Hap was palling up to me, hoping that it would hurt Panzer in some way.

  “I can’t tell you how sorry I am, old man. I was just wondering—”

  “Yeah?” I said.

  “Perhaps you could force Sol to drive a deal with you. You can probably pick up a dozen pix or so from the little fellows, and of course you can count on my line-up. Every last picture I’ve got. Why—”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I said. “If there was any way I could run on your stuff it wouldn’t be open. And you wouldn’t be sitting there offering it to me.”

  “Please, laddie. Not so loud.”

  “Nuts,” I said. “Panzer tried to play without you and you found out about it. You don’t care whether he finds out you told me. You hope he will. It’ll teach him to call you in the next time he cuts a pie.”

  Hap sighed. “We should have been partners. Great minds, et cetera. You know what I thought when I first saw you tonight?”

  “I don’t particularly give a damn.”

  “Don’t be rude, Joseph. I might slap the unholy God out of you.”

  “All right,” I said. “What did you think?”

  “Well, I thought you had caught my hint after all; that that was why you were in town.”