hestruggledwiththebatchofyellowpaperunderhisarm,gotitstraightenedout,andnoddedtome.iwatchedhimheaveopenthedoorandgoonin.ieaseduponthebrakeandtheoldsslidoutfromthewhitecurb,andthatwasthelastisawofhowardspencer.

igothomelateandtiredanddepressed.itwasoneofthosenightswhentheairisheavyandthenightnoisesseemmuffledandfaraway.therewasahighmistyindifferentmoon.iwalkedthefloor,playedafewrecords,andhardlyheardthem.iseemedtohearasteadytickingsomewhere,buttherewasn’tanythinginthehousetotick.thetickingwasinmyhead.iwasaone-mandeathwatch.

ithoughtofthefirsttimeihadseeneileenwadeandthesecondandthethirdandthefourth.butafterthatsomethinginhergotoutofdrawing.shenolongerseemedquitereal.amurdererisalwaysunrealonceyouknowheisamurderer.therearepeoplewhokilloutofhateorfearorgreed.therearethecunningkillerswhoplanandexpecttogetawaywithit.therearetheangrykillerswhodonotthinkatall.andtherearethekillerswhoareinlovewithdeath,towhommurderisaremotekindofsuicide.inasensetheyareallinsane,butnotinthewayspencermeantit.

itwasalmostdaylightwhenifinallywenttobed.

thejangleofthetelephonedraggedmeupoutofablackwellofsleep.irolledoveronthebed,fumbledforslippers,andrealizedthatihadn’tbeenasleepformorethanacoupleofhours.ifeltlikeahalf-digestedmealeateninagreasy-spoonjoint.myeyeswerestucktogetherandmymouthwasfullofsand.iheaveduponthefeetandlumberedintothelivingroomandpulledthephoneoffthecradleandsaidintoit:“holdtheline.”

iputthephonedownandwentintothebathroomandhitmyselfinthefacewithsomecoldwater.outsidethewindowsomethingwentsnip,snip,snip.ilookedoutvaguelyandsawabrownexpressionlessface.itwastheonce-a-weekjapgardenericalledhardheartedharry.hewastrimmingthetecoma—thewayajapanesegardenertrimsyourtecoma.youaskhimfourtimesandhesays,“nextweek,”andthenhecomesbyatsixo’clockinthemorningandtrimsitoutsideyourbedroomwindow.

irubbedmyfacedryandwentbacktothetelephone.

“yeah?”

“thisiscandy,señor.”

“goodmorning,candy.”

“laseñoraesmuerta.”

dead.whatacoldblacknoiselessworditisinanylanguage.theladyisdead.

“nothingyoudid,ihope.”

“ithinkthemedicine.itiscalleddemerol.ithinkforty,fiftyinthebottle.emptynow.nodinnerlastnight.thismorningiclimbupontheladderandlookinthewindow.dressedjustlikeyesterdayafternoon.ibreakthescreenopen.laseñoraesmuerto.friocomoaguadenieve.”

coldasicewater.“youcallanybody?”

“sí.eldoctorloring.hecallthecops.nothereyet.”

“dr.loring,huh?justthemantocometoolate.”

“idon’tshowhimtheletter,”candysaid.

“lettertowho?”

“señorspencer.”

“giveittothepolice,candy.don’tletdr.loringhaveit.justthepolice.andonemorething,candy.don’thideanything,don’ttellthemanylies.wewerethere.tellthetruth.thistimethetruthandallthetruth.”

therewasalittlepause.thenhesaid:“sí.icatch.hastalavista,amigo.”hehungup.

idialedtheritz-beverlyandaskedforhowardspencer.

“onemoment,please.i’llgiveyouthedesk.”

aman’svoicesaid:“deskspeaking.mayihelpyou?”

“iaskedforhowardspencer.iknowit’searly,butit’surgent.”

“mr.spencercheckedoutlastevening.hetooktheeighto’clockplanetonewyork.”

“oh,sorry.ididn’tknow.”

iwentouttothekitchentomakecoffee—yardsofcoffee.rich,strong,bitter,boilinghot,ruthless,depraved.thelifebloodoftiredmen.

itwasacoupleofhourslaterthatbernieohlscalledme.

“okay,wiseguy,”hesaid.“getdownhereandsuffer.”