could go. Nothing would get me out of the kitchen and upstairs.
I put the towel away after folding it carefully. I had to do something. I went back to the middle of the kitchen and stood there waiting. I said to myself that Mardi would come in in a moment from the garden, but I knew she wouldn't. Katz had found her, and he had killed her; that I knew was what had happened, but I wouldn't let myself believe it. I kept saying she'd be along in a moment or so, that the stuff on the floor outside was paint, it just couldn't be Mardi's blood, but I knew it was.
Then I thought of her all alone when Katz came. I could see her against the wall, her big, smoky eyes very wide, but her chin up. That would be the way she'd face up to Katz. She'd be thinking of me, and all the time she was going away from me I was talking to that bastard Johnson. I was worrying about dough when Mardi was being killed.
The sick feeling inside me began to ease a little, and the first shock gave way to a numbed feeling at the back of my brain. I went outside and stood looking at the bloodstains in the sitting-room. They were near the wall. When I looked closer I could see two bruises on the paint on the wainscoting. They looked like two heel marks. I could picture Mardi trying to press herself into the wall as Katz came at her. It made me feel so bad that I had to sit down.
Then I did a thing I'd never done since I was a kid. I didn't know I was doing it until I tasted the salt in my mouth. Going on like this wouldn't get me anywhere so I got up and gave myself a shot of Scotch. I took three- quarters of a tumbler and it went down like water. I guess it did the trick all right, because I got a grip on myself and I began to use my brain.
I went over to the telephone and dialled. I knew I couldn't handle this on my own. I had to share this with someone.
I said to Ackie: “Come on out here fast.”
That's the big thing about Ackie, he always knew when you wanted him bad. He didn't ask why, nor did he make excuses. I knew that he was right in the middle of going to press, but he just said: “Keep your shirt on, I'm on my way,” and he hung up.
If he came fast he could make it an hour. I knew I couldn't wait an hour before going upstairs. I went over to the sideboard and belted the Scotch again, then I decided to go on up and see.
I went into the hall and looked up the stairs. The lodge was silent. Standing there, facing the stairs, I realized how much Mardi meant to me. I began to walk forward. The stairs seemed to go on a long way. I couldn't hurry, but I kept on. When I reached the top I felt heavy in the legs, just as if I'd been walking through glue.
On the landing there were two bathrooms, two bedrooms and a dressing-room. All the five doors were shut. Mardi might be behind any one of these. I knew the most likely would be our bedroom, but I didn't try that first. I went into one of the bathrooms. She wasn't there. I left the door open and the light on and went into the dressing-room. She wasn't there either.
I went out on to the landing and stood looking at the other doors and I felt bad. It took me a little while before I could go on. This time I went to our bedroom. I turned the handle slowly and pushed the door open, then I put my hand round and turned on the light. I didn't go in at once. I just stood looking in.
I looked everywhere but at the bed, because I knew she would be there. Then I brought my eyes down to the bed. I felt the cold trickle of sweat running down my back.
There was a large red stain on the white sheet, which was drawn over her face. I could see, from where I was standing, the small hills that marked her feet, her hands, her breasts, and her nose. The sheet was drawn tight and I could clearly see those small hills.
I leant against the doorpost and just looked. Then I began to hate Spencer and his wife and Katz and the fat guy and Gus and the whole hellish business as I had never hated anything before. I wanted to get close to them all and get my hands on them. I wanted to hurt and kill them all because of what they had done to me. I no longer cared what would happen to me. I just wanted to even things up, knew that I was just kidding myself, because if I did kill them all it wouldn't help me. It wouldn't bring Mardi back and it would never take the picture I had of her facing what she had faced alone.
If only I had been there with her we could have gone out together. I know she wouldn't have minded.
I didn't go into the room. I turned off the light and went downstairs again. In the sitting-room I sat down and fumbled for my cigarette case. I noticed, as I struck a match, that my hands were very steady. I was a little surprised. I just sat there smoking with a blank mind until Ackie came.
I heard his car roaring up the drive and I went out to meet him. He had come faster than I thought. He was out of the car before I could get to the front door, and when he had a look at me he just pushed me back into the lodge and shut the front door.
“What is, it, Nick?”
I opened and shut my mouth, but no sound came. I just stood looking at him.
He put his hand on my arm. His face had gone very grim. “Mardi? Somethin' happened to Mardi?”
I took a deep breath. It was worse than I thought. It made it much more real to have to say it. I had to put out a big effort to get control of myself. I could feel the muscles in my stomach fluttering. “They've killed her, Mo.” Well, it was out now.
Ackie didn't believe it. He pushed me into the sitting-room. “They wouldn't do that,” he said. “Get a grip on yourself, Nick. Come on an' have a drink. They wouldn't kill a kid like that.”
I grabbed him by the arm and swung him round. “I tell you they've killed her, the swine. She's up there on the bed. Look... they killed her here. Look at the blood. Do you see that? That's hers. That's from her body. They killed her down here.—They came on her when she was alone and the yellow curs killed her against the wall.”
Ackie took a look at the bloodstains. Then he shook his head. “Take it easy,” he said, “take it easy.”
I seized his coat-front in my fist and shook him. “Don't say that to me!” I shouted at him. “I tell you she's up there....”
He hit me across the face with the flat of his hand very hard. I guess I wanted that. It shook me up and it hurt a lot, but it fixed me. I blinked at him and took my hand away. “I'm sorry, Mo,” I said, stepping away from him. “I guess I was excited.”
