concerned. For someone who had killed so prodigally in the past, paying someone to do the job would be simplicity itself.
The doorbell rang. The moment of truth.
Barbara checked the peephole. It was the big guy. She opened the door.
His mouth dropped. He quickly stepped from the subtly lit hallway into the apartment. With one uninterrupted gesture he pulled apart the Velcroed straps. The dress fell to the floor.
He scooped her into his arms and practically charged into the bedroom. He dropped her the short distance onto the bed. In record time, his clothes were also dropped and lying where they landed.
She welcomed him. But she was not quite ready for him. That had not stopped him before and it did not now. She was uncomfortable. He was rougher than usual.
He tried to hold back to enhance his pleasure. But even after all these years, he could not. Not when it was Barbara.
Mercifully for her, it was over shortly. He rolled over, panting lightly. His arm was under her head, but he did not hold her. She did not expect more.
They lay silently for some moments. He had no words. She was trying to find a way to begin. “This is the first time, isn’t it, Marty?”
“Huh? First time? What …?”
“The first time we can really relax, is what I mean. No motel room, a different one every time. No cramped car. No secret meeting on vacation. No sneaking off together when Al or Lois is out of town. This is the first time we don’t have to worry. You didn’t even have to be concerned about a rubber. And I didn’t have to worry about the jelly or the diaphragm.”
Martin smiled and breathed deeply. “You mean because you’re pregnant.”
“Uh-huh.”
He thought about that for a few moments. Then he chuckled. “You’re right. I didn’t even think of that.”
“You didn’t?” She was surprised.
“I didn’t intend to screw you either.”
She turned toward him and raised herself on one elbow. She regarded him appraisingly. “For someone who didn’t intend to get under the sheets you damn near set a world’s record.”
“I wouldn’t be here at all if you hadn’t practically summoned me at the funeral home.” He glanced at his watch. “Good God, that was only a few hours ago. The body isn’t even cold yet.” He looked down at both of them, in indication of their nakedness.
“The body’s not cold, Marty; it’s hot. He’s being cremated.”
“A figure of speech.”
She reached for a robe.
“No. Don’t put anything on. I like to look at you.”
She smiled. Compliments flowed from Martin like water from frozen pipes. Besides, she was proud of her figure. She liked to exhibit it under appropriate situations. This was such a situation. She and Marty had few anatomical secrets from each other.
She leaned back on the pillow, her head turned toward him.
“We wouldn’t be doing this if Al weren’t … gone.”
“Dead,” Marty corrected. “Al is
She reminded herself that Marty had an occupational familiarity with that word. Vietnam. “That’s right, Marty: dead. If Al were alive, he’d be at the opening day celebration. You’d be at work, probably looking at the handwriting on the wall.”
“What handwriting?”
“Well, you know the bank gossip as well as or better than I. According to the scenario, Al was supposed to be rewarded if he made the new branch a success.”
“So?”
“The reward … being made an executive vice president.”
Martin guffawed. “Just like that, eh?”
“In time. In time.” For the first time in this affair Barbara lost a tad of her confidence.
“In lots and lots of time … if ever.”
“Well, not according to the scuttlebutt. Sooner than later.”
“I wouldn’t put my last buck on that,” Martin cautioned. “Al wasn’t equipped to be a VP. He didn’t have the patience for the job. And there’s lots of other caveats that would make that kind of reward unlikely.”
“If not VP, then what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Haven’t given it much thought. His pick among the branches? Something like that.”
Barbara pulled the quilt up. She hoped Martin wouldn’t make a fuss; she was chilly. “Then I suppose you’ll deny the rumors about you.”
He sat upright and looked down at her. “Rumors?”
Barbara nodded. “One of them has it that you set Al up.”
“What!?”
“That this was a contract killing and that you paid for it.”
He could’ve gone either way. He might have been furious or he could’ve been amused. Fortunately for Barbara, he laughed uproariously. “Me? A contract killing? The morning of opening day? How could you believe a pile of crap like that?”
“I didn’t say I believed it. Just that there were rumors.”
“And what else did these rumors say?”
By this time, Barbara had lost a larger measure of self-confidence. But she plowed on. “That failing to kill Al you were already feathering your nest … something like building yourself a golden parachute.”
He ground his teeth and flushed from the neck upward. “And how was I supposed to do that?”
“I don’t know. Make some sweet deals with commercial customers. Make some overly generous loans. In return for their taking good care of you if you were bounced.”
“Listen here, little lady …” He stood up and reached for his clothes. “If I wanted Al-or anybody for that matter-dead, I certainly wouldn’t hire someone to do it. I like to think I know enough about killing to do it myself and not rely on some crackheaded piece of shit who’d lead the cops right to me.
“That’s for one. And for two, it’s true we made a few loans that didn’t pan out the way we wanted. But those were inner-city businesses in the neighborhood of the new branch. And we absorbed those losses and made up for them-and more-with other investments. You could check with Jack Fradet about that. He knows.”
He had wasted no time; he was buttoning his shirt.
“Okay, okay,” Barbara said. “I told you they were only gossip. I didn’t say I believed them. But before you go, what about my baby … our child?”
He was putting on a shoe. He stopped and looked at her. There was an odd embarrassment in his expression. “That’s something I’ve got a problem with.”
“What do you mean, ‘problem’?” Barbara sat up. The quilt fell.
“I mean it’s a problem. Look, you say you’re pregnant. I know how much you didn’t want to get pregnant. So, I suppose you’re telling the truth. Why would you lie?”
She was about to object. But Martin raised a silencing hand. “Listen to me. This’ll be hard enough without interrruptions. If Al had lived, and if it’s true, that he couldn’t possibly be the father, then he’d be mad as hell and telling the world about it. And when you gave me that note at the party, Al was alive with no prospects of dying soon. So that’s probably true too-that Al would know for certain he couldn’t be the father.
“Now we come to the hard part.”
He paused. Barbara couldn’t imagine what was to come next.
“Babs, I don’t know who the father is, but it isn’t me.”
“W … what?”
“For years, Lois and I tried to have a family. We couldn’t. I’ve got rock bottom motility. In other words, I’m sterile. As you well know, I’m as potent as a guy can be. But I can’t father kids. If you’ve got a baby inside you, I wish it was mine. But it’s not. I didn’t want anybody but Lois and the doc to know. If your pregnancy hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t know. I’d never have told you. All that protection we used … we didn’t need any.”
