Strip For Violence

Her full sobs shook us both. For a moment I was so crazy about her, I didn't think—only felt heavy with a dull, sick, coldness. Then I snapped out of it—Laurie couldn't have killed him. I stroked her wet face, shook her gently, whispered, “Stop crying, you didn't kill him, you couldn't possibly have...”

“But, Hal, I did! As surely as if I'd pulled the trigger. If he robbed the bank, then he did it for me, because I was nagging him, wanted to go to California on my own—alone. He did it to give me the things I... I was so petty, so selfish, I hate myself!”

“Baby, one minute you're hating your father, the next, hating yourself. Stop that kind of talk. And nobody blames you, or hates you.”

“The world should hate me for driving that poor man to...”

“The world doesn't know you're alive. But I do, and I don't hate you, I love you.”

“Hal, I feel so guilty that...” She stopped abruptly. “Hal, did you say you loved me?”

“Yeah.”

“You mean that? You love me?”

“Laurie, I don't know what love actually is—the bunk we see in the movies, the slop we read about in books, maybe it's really sex, or companionship or... Whatever it is, I feel all those things about you.”

“Hal, sweet, it's so good to hear those words. I mean, I've been so lonely that... sometimes I'd worry if any man would ever be attracted to me, thought maybe something was wrong with me. And you, Hal, you seem a part of me,” Laurie whispered, her voice heavy with sleep. “It seems unthinkable that I ever lived before—without you. Is that love?”

“It'll do,” I said, kissing her eyes. “But love won't be anything if we don't get out of this jam. The money, Laurie, where is it?”

“There isn't any money.”

“But you said your pop robbed the bank?”

“No, no, you were the one that said that. I meant if he did it, then... it was my fault. Oh, Hal, my wonderful Hal, I feel so good, deep down good, now.” She snuggled up against me and gently fell asleep.

I kept kissing her face, covering it with small, hot kisses, my hand playing with her hair that was cut like a man's, but so very soft. I had a new definition of love... it sure was love if I could completely forget Anita and Louise, if I could kiss Laurie when all the time I knew she was lying in her teeth!

2

I got up once during the night to check the anchor and when I next opened my eyes, it was bright and sunny outside. My watch said it was after nine. Laurie was sleeping soundly, her face looking soft and young and refreshed. I kissed her and her lips formed a contented smile.

I took her clothes and hung them in the sun. The New York harbor isn't the cleanest place to swim, but I dove in. The second I hit the water I knew what had been bothering me all night—and it wasn't the shock of the cold water that did the trick, it was the water itself —this very water that went up and down the Hudson River. I broke the surface and grinned at the sun. Without meaning to, Laurie had told me where the dough was hidden. I swam around the boat, climbed up on deck and shook myself like a dog. I felt swell, had a feeling I would close the case before the sun rose again.

I took a soapy shower and a shave and when I came out of the John, Laurie awoke with a start and, seeing me, grabbed the sheet and pulled it to her neck. I laughed and she blushed and shook her head. “This has been all so... sudden, I forgot.” She dropped the sheet and proudly stretched. “I feel so delicious, if there is such a feeling.”

“When that feeling stops, baby, the honeymoon is over.”

“Honeymoon... we'll have to talk about that, mister. See how forward I've become!”

I kissed her and she said, “Hal, our being together—it's a whole new intimate world, a new life.”

I pulled out of her arms. “I know, but we have work to do, or our private world will crash on us. Get dressed and we'll put in and eat ashore. I'm starved and we only have canned stuff aboard. The shower is in there.” I pointed at the “Blowfish Madonna” and she giggled, asked, “You really mean it when you ask a gal to come up and look at your etchings!”

“Now you know all my secrets. Come on, get dressed.”

While she showered, I got her clothes—wrinkled but dry —pumped out some bilge water, started the motor and got the anchor up. We tied up at a nearby pier and I bought a paper and we went into a diner and ate like a couple of pigs. Louise still hadn't hit the papers. I called Bobo at the office, gave him the number in the booth and told him to call me back, from outside the office. He called in a few minutes, asked, “What's up, Hal?”

“Don't know. Being careful, in case our phone is tapped. Tell Shirley to take the day off and...”

“Again? Hal, she's getting suspicious of...?”

“Cut the clowning. Tell her to scram. You know that boatyard back of the Polo Grounds, where I dock in the winter? Meet me there in about two hours. Make damn sure you're not being followed, and don't tell anybody where you're going. Okay?”

“I'll be there. Anything else? Getting tired of this sitting on my rusty...”

“We may get too much action today. See you.”

The tide was with us and we cut across the bay like a speed boat—well, almost. Laurie said, “This is much better than last night. Thought I'd die. I'll go home now and...”

“You're staying on this boat all day, with Bobo as a bodyguard. I think I'm going to crack the case this day— said Darling, sounding like a big-time dick who solves murders every hour, instead of a four-flusher on his first murder—and I hope my last!”

“But why do I have to stay...?”