MOST AGREEABLY POISONED
Originally published in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, October 1957.
“Darling,” Sherry said, “I’m so glad you’re behaving like a civilized being.”
“Oh, I’m a great believer in civilized beings,” I said. “In my opinion, they are essential to civilization.”
“Nevertheless,” she said, “it is absolutely exceptional of you to suggest that the three of us get together and talk things out quietly and courteously. Not,” she added, “that it will change anything in the end.”
“What do you mean, not that it will change anything?”
“I mean that I am quite determined to leave you, of course. Surely you understand that.”
“I understand that it’s your intention, but I am hoping to change your mind.”
“Well, it’s only fair to give you a chance, which I am willing to do, but I assure you that it’s impossible. I am in love with Dennis and am going to marry him and that’s all there is to it. I’m truly sorry, darling, but it’s necessary to my happiness.”
“This means, I take it, that you are consequently no longer in love with me. Is that true?”
“Not at all. Please don’t be absurd. I love you very much, as you very well know, but in a less exciting way I am madly and deliriously and irresistibly in love with Dennis.”
“Once you were madly and deliriously and irresistibly in love with me. At least you said you were.”
“So I was, but now the way I am in love with you is unfortunately changed. It’s sad, isn’t it, the way things change?”
I looked at her with a great aching in my heart, for however sadly and unfortunately her way of loving me had changed, my way of loving her had not changed at all. So bright and fair and incredibly lovely, I also saw that she was wearing a soft white gown that achieved a perfect balance of exposure and suggestion.
“Will you have a martini?” I said.
“When Dennis gets here, we will have one together. It will make everyone feel relaxed and comfortable, don’t you think? Martinis are quite good for that.”
“I thought we might just have one beforehand. We can have another later, of course.”
“Well, I’m not averse to that, but there’s the doorbell now, if I’m not mistaken, and it’s surely Dennis.”
She was right about its being the doorbell. She was almost certainly right, too, about its being Dennis. I was compelled to accept this reluctantly.
“You had better let him in,” I said.
She went out into the hall and opened the front door, and it was Dennis outside. He came into the hall, and Sherry put her arms around his neck and kissed him. It was nothing new for her to kiss various men, but this kiss was different and plainly special. It was ardent, to say the least, and it lasted for quite a long time. From my position in the living room, I could see it clearly, but I quit looking at it before it was finished, and started mixing martinis, and I was still mixing the martinis when Sherry and Dennis came in.
“Well, you two,” Sherry said, “here we are.”
“That’s true,” I said. “We’re here, all right.”
“This is Dennis, Sherm,” Sherry said. “Dennis, this is Sherm.”
“Glad to meet you, Sherm,” Dennis said.
He was not as tall as I, nor quite so heavy, but I had to admit that he looked like he was probably in better condition. He had short blond hair and a face like the guy who plays juvenile leads until he’s thirty, and he apparently felt that he was playing the lead in this particular turkey. Which he was, even though I didn’t like to admit it. I put down the shaker of martinis and shook his hand.
“His name is actually Sherman,” Sherry said, “but I call him Sherm.”
“Sometimes we got real intimate,” I said.
“This is exceedingly decent of you, Sherm,” Dennis said.
“Civilized,” I said. “I’m being civilized, which makes everything much more comfortable for everyone. Will you have a martini?”
“Thanks. I don’t mind if I do.”
I poured the martinis, and they sat on the sofa and held hands. When I served the martinis, he took his in his left hand, and she took hers in her right hand, and this made it possible for her left hand and his right hand to go on holding each other. As for me, I was in a position to hold my martini in either hand or both, as the notion struck me.
“I suppose,” I said, “that we might as well get it over with.”
“Sorry, Sherm,” Dennis said, “but I suppose we had.” He looked at me with a man-to-man expression.
“Well,” I said, “as I understand it, you want something of mine, and I naturally want to keep what I have, and this poses a problem.”
“Problem?” he said. “I don’t see that there’s any particular problem.”
“Neither do I,” Sherry said. “No problem at all. You and I will simply get divorced, Sherm, and you and I will simply get married, Dennis, and that’s all there is to it.”
“As I see it,” Dennis said, “that’s all.”
“As I see it,” I said, “not quite. I’m willing to be civilized and congenial, which is one thing, but I’m not willing to surrender supinely, which is another. I must insist on a fair chance in this affair, but at the same time I want to be agreeable, which is evident, and so I have thought of a way in which everything can be settled amicably. Would you like to hear it?”
“I don’t think so,” Dennis said. “I don’t think I care to hear it at all.”
“Oh, let’s hear it, Dennis,” Sherry said. “It can’t do any harm to hear it.”
“All right,” Dennis said. “I suppose it’s only fair.”
“Good,” I said. “You two just continue to sit here and hold hands for a minute, and I’ll be right back.” Crossing the room
