The Kill-Off

be glad to talk to her myself, and if that didn't do any good I'd slap some sense into her. But Ralph didn't think that would be a very good idea. And I guess it wasn't.

She'd probably put the money in the bank, and tell the police she'd been threatened. Then, if anything happened, why you know where we'd be.

I was sorry afterwards that I'd said anything like that to Ralph. Because I was perfectly willing to do what I said I would and heck of a lot more. But it might have sounded a little shocking to say so. I mean, even if I wasn't a woman, if I was Ralph, say, and I said something like that to me, why I'd-oh, well, you know what I mean.

It was best to keep things the way they'd been, except for that once. Talking about what had to be done, but not really talking about it. Not actually admitting that we were talking about it.

By doing that, you see, we'd never really know. There'd never be anything to make us uncomfortable about each other. After all, she was a pretty old woman. Her health was bad, and everyone in town hated her guts. And, well, all sorts of things could happen to her, without us having a thing to do with them.

And neither of us would need to know that we had unless…

The weeks raced by. They went by like days, and before we knew it the season was almost over. And we were still talking, and nothing had happened.

Then, that Monday night came.

The dance hall was closed that night. Ralph was working there-not any regular hours, but just until he got through. We weren't seeing each other afterwards, because I had a sore throat.

I don't know how I got it exactly. Maybe from sleeping in a draft. Anyway, it wasn't really bad, and if I'd been anything but a singer I wouldn't have bothered to call a doctor.

I was sitting out on the stoop when he came. He painted my throat, looking kind of nervous and haggard, and then he asked me why I hadn't been in the first time he called.

'I spend thirty minutes finding the right cottage,' he said, 'and then when I finally locate it…'

'I'm so sorry about that, doctor,' I said. 'You see, I was taking a shower, and it was some time before I heard you calling and pounding at the cottage next door. I came right out as soon as I did, but-'

'W-what?' he said. 'The cottage next…?'

'Uh-huh. It's unoccupied; so many of them are… But I thought you saw me, doctor. I ran out on the stoop and called to you, just as you were driving away, and I thought you called and motioned to me. I supposed you meant you had no more time right then, and you'd have to come back later.'

He looked at me blankly for a moment. Then, his eyes flickered in a kind of funny way, and he snapped his fingers.

'Why, of course,' he said. 'Now, that I see you in the light, I can… You had a robe on, didn't you, and a-uh- did you have a bathing cap?'

'That's right,' I said. 'A robe and a bathing cap, because I'd just come out of the shower. I suppose I looked quite a bit different than-'

'Not a bit,' he said firmly. 'Not a particle. I'd have recognized you instantly, if it hadn't been so fixed in my mind that you were in the other cottage. Let's see, now-about what time was that?'

I told him I guessed it was a little after eight. Somewhere along in there. Just about the time it was getting dark.

'You're right,' he said. 'You're absolutely right, Miss Lee. Let me compliment you on your memory.'

'Now, that's real sweet of you, doctor,' I said. 'But, after all, why shouldn't I remember? I mean, a girl just about couldn't forget anything connected with a distinguished looking gentleman like you.'

I smiled at him, looking up from under the lids of my eyes. He beamed and harrumphed his throat, and said I was a very fine young lady.

He repeated that several times while he was repacking his medicine kit. He said he wanted me to take very good care of myself, and any time I needed him, regardless of the hour, I was to let him know.

I thought he was awfully sweet and nice. Kind of distinguished and mature, like Ralph. He asked if he might use my phone, and I said, why certainly, and he called a number.

'Hank?' he said. 'Jim… Just wanted to tell you that it's-you know-all right… I remembered where-I mean, I can account positively for the time. There's a young lady who saw me, recognized my car and my voice, and… Who? Well, that one. The one we were discussing. She-What? Why-yes, I suppose that's true. I hadn't thought about it that way, but…'

I'd gone over by the door to be polite; so that it wouldn't look like I was snooping, you know. He turned around and looked at me, kind of frowning as he went on talking.

'Yes. Yes, I see. Naturally, unless I was sure that she- unless there was an observer I could hardly be observed. But… Yes, Hank. That's the way I feel. On the one hand… Absolutely. Had to be. No reason to consider it anything else… Exactly, Hank! And as long as that's the case… Fine, ha, ha, fine. See you, Hank…'

He hung up the receiver. He picked up his medicine kit, gave me a funny little nod, and started out the door. On the stoop he paused for a moment and turned around, facing me.

'Allow me to compliment you again,' he said. 'You're a very smart young woman, Miss Lee.'

'Now, that is sweet,' I said. 'That's a real compliment… coming from a smart man like you.'

I gave him another under-the-eyelids smile. He turned suddenly, and left.

I thought he seemed a little cranky. I wondered if he thought I hadn't really seen him that first time-because actually, I hadn't. I said I had because he'd started off being so cross, and I was afraid he might think I hadn't been at home when he called. But all I'd really seen was his car driving away. Or a car that looked like his.

Oh, well. Probably I was just imagining things. After all, he remembered seeing me perfectly, so why should he think I hadn't seen him?

I put on some make-up and went out on the beach. I sat down with my back to the ocean. After a while, I saw a light come on in Rags McGuire's cottage. I walked down to it, and knocked on the door.

He was sitting on the side of the bed, drinking out of a bottle. He's been drinking a lot lately, but on Mondays he drinks more than usual.

'Well!' he said. 'If it isn't little Miss Bosoms, the girl with the tinplated tonsils! How come they let you out, baby, or ain't you been in yet?'

'I don't know what you're talking about and I don't care,' I said, 'and all I've got to say to you is I'm quitting, you mean hateful, dirty old-old-'

'Bastard, son-of-a-bitch, whoremonger,' he said. 'Now, you sit right down there, honey, and I'll think up some more for you. I'll do that, an' you tell me where you were around eight o'clock tonight.'

'If it's any of your business,' I said, 'I was in my cottage at eight o'clock and for all the rest of the evening. I had a sore throat, and the doctor saw me about eight and again just a little while ago, if it's any possible concern of yours.'

His eyes widened. He broke out laughing suddenly, slapping his knee. 'Doc Ashton? Oh, brother! You two-you and Doc Ashton! Will this burn a certain little lawyer I know! Who dreamed it up, baby, you or Doc?'

'I haven't the faintest notion of what you're talking about,' I said. 'But since you seem to be so