Mrs Eckdorf in O'Neill's Hotel by William Trevor

Author:William Trevor
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2019-08-02T16:00:00+00:00

10

Morrissey, loitering about the streets, watched for men who had finished their day’s work and might be interested in what he had to offer. ‘Excuse me, sir,’ he said to a man whom at a much later hour, a month or so ago, he had introduced to Mrs Kite. ‘What’s the trouble?’ the man demanded, and Morrissey showed him his photograph of Mrs Kite, asking the man if he remembered her. The face of Mrs Kite was scrutinized. The man frowned and shook his head. ‘Some kind of charity case?’ he suggested.

He walked on, and when Morrissey ran after him to explain he said he had never seen either Morrissey or the woman in the photograph before. ‘In Queen Street,’ Morrissey reminded him. ‘You were driving a blue Cortina, sir: would you be interested in meeting that female again at all?’

The man told Morrissey to get off the streets. With his right index finger extended, he gestured peremptorily and when Morrissey did not move he drove his finger powerfully into Morrissey’s stomach. ‘You low bastard,’ he said.

Morrissey made no reply. For a moment he believed that the surface of his stomach had been punctured, giving him grounds for legal action. But when he looked at the finger he saw that it was bloodless. The man repeated his insults and walked away.

My God, thought Morrissey, does he own the town? Is he the damn Lord Mayor? Well within living memory, this violent man had opened the door of a blue Cortina and had beckoned to Morrissey in Queen Street. ‘Any chance of a mott at all?’ he had enquired, his face jovial in anticipation. He had offered Morrissey a cigarette, which Morrissey had taken. ‘Isn’t that a great-looking woman?’ Morrissey had said, displaying the photograph of Mrs Kite, and the man had agreed that she was. They had gone together to the street where Mrs Kite was usually to be found. The man had paid him six shillings and had driven off with Mrs Kite in the front of the car beside him.

Meditating on this new evidence of hypocrisy, Morrissey continued in his search for lone men. His eyes darted swiftly about the faces that moved by him, most of them a little higher than his own. The men were hurrying, or engaged in the rapid purchase of an evening newspaper. One of them dropped a penny without noticing: Morrissey watched it roll and bent down to claim it. As he put it in a pocket and glanced again around him, he saw Mrs Eckdorf.

Morrissey had been surprised when O’Shea had written that a woman from Germany had come to stay in the hotel and later had led her into Mrs Sinnott’s room. It was unusual for anyone to lodge in the hotel; and it was more unusual that the person referred to should be a well-dressed female with a hat. She was moving along now, he noticed, at a fairish pace, looking for something. Since at this unprofitable time of

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