The Expendable Man (1963) by Dorothy B. Hughes

Author:Dorothy B. Hughes
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Suspense
ISBN: 9781590175095
Publisher: NYRB Classics
Published: 1963-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

He was late, six minutes late, the next morning, as he descended the steps of the Scottsdale station; seven minutes late as he stood in the doorway of the marshal’s office.

They were waiting for him, the marshal moving the rocks on his paper reports, Ringle sucking a Coke bottle which looked like a toy in his heavy hand. Venner, wearing a damp plaid shirt of pink and yellow-green, was skitting about the small room as if he knew there was to be a pickup order soon.

An innocent man could apologize. Hugh said to Hackaberry, “I’m sorry. Traffic seemed slow-moving this morning.” Nothing of how difficult it was to get away from the family without revealing his destination.

“Doesn’t matter.” Hackaberry waved the apology aside. “I’m running late myself. Have a chair.”

Today there were extra chairs, empty ones aligned with Ringle’s, two under the windows. Venner, his mouth snaked with disappointment at Hugh’s entrance, blocked the latter.

Hugh said, “I’m sorry,” and lifted one from Ringle’s line, placing it near the marshal’s desk. He sat down.

“We couldn’t seem to find you yesterday.” Hackaberry spoke genially, just as if it weren’t important.

Hugh reacted the same way. “So I understand. I was out most of the day.” If they wanted to know where he’d been, they would have to ask.

“You know the results of the autopsy?”

“I’ve read the reports in the newspapers. And I know what Mr. Houston was told.”

Ringle rumbled, “Were you surprised?”

Hugh glanced at him briefly, then back to the marshal. “I don’t believe I understand.”

Venner said maliciously, “We been wondering how surprised you were to find out she’d had an abortion.”

Hugh didn’t let the insinuation disturb him. He continued to address himself to the marshal. “I hoped the autopsy would not show that she’d been aborted.” It might not be wise to say more but he did. “Both as a doctor and as the person I am, I hoped she had been spared that.”

Point-blank Ringle demanded, “Did you commit that abortion?”

“No, I did not!” His denial rang out, strong, true. There was no change in the attitude of the three men. They’d been conditioned to the guilty as well as the innocent forthright denials. He might just as well have saved his breath. He continued passionately, “I’m a doctor. I’ve sworn the Hippocratic oath. Under no circumstances that I can think of, would I violate that oath.”

“But you weren’t surprised,” Ringle said flatly.

“No, I wasn’t surprised. What did surprise me in the report was that her death was caused by concussion, not the operation.”

The marshal asked, “Why did that surprise you?” He seemed interested.

He might be sticking his neck out, far out, to venture his opinions. But Houston wasn’t here to advise him. He knew the interview was being taped and tape could be mutilated. Yet an innocent man would answer, frankly and freely. Hugh said, “Because if he was going to kill her, why would the man take her to an abortionist?”

“You don’t think the abortionist killed her?”

“No, I don’t,” he returned.

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