Killer Inside Me, The by Thompson Jim

Author:Thompson, Jim [Thompson, Jim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime, Noir, Novel, Psychopaths, Fiction
ISBN: 9780316196024
Publisher: Mulholland Books / Little, Brown and Company
Published: 1952-01-01T03:00:00+00:00

…Everything seemed the same as usual. The shades were drawn, and the bathroom door was open a little, just to let in a little light; and she was sprawled out on her stomach asleep. Everything was the same…but it wasn’t. It was one of those times.

She woke up while I was undressing; some change dropped out of my pocket and rolled against the baseboard. She sat up, rubbing at her eyes, starting to say something sharp. But somehow she smiled, instead, and I smiled back at her. I scooped her up in my arms and sat down on the bed and held her. I kissed her, and her mouth opened a little, and her arms locked around my neck.

That’s the way it started. That’s the way it went.

Until, finally, we were stretched out close, side by side, her arm around my hips and mine around hers; limp, drained dry, almost breathless. And still we wanted each other—wanted something. It was like the beginning instead of the end.

She burrowed her head against my shoulder, and it was nice. I didn’t feel like shoving her away. She whispered into my ear, kind of baby-talking.

“Mad at you. You hurt me.”

“I did?” I said. “Gosh, I’m sorry, honey.”

“Hurt real bad. ’Iss one. Punch elbow in it.”

“Well, gosh—”

She kissed me, let her mouth slide off mine. “Not mad,” she whispered.

She was silent then, waiting, it seemed, for me to say something. Do something. She pushed closer, squirming, still keeping her face hidden.

“Bet I know something…”

“Yeah, honey?”

“About that vas—that operation.”

“What,” I said, “do you think you know?”

“It was after that—after Mike—”

“What about Mike?”

“Darling”—she kissed my shoulder—“I don’t care. I don’t mind. But it was then, wasn’t it? Your father got ex—worried and…?”

I let my breath out slowly. Almost any other night I could have enjoyed wringing her neck, but this was one time when I hadn’t felt that way.

“It was about that time, as I recollect,” I said. “But I don’t know as that had anything to do with it.”

“Honey…”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you suppose people…?”

“It beats me,” I said. “I never have been able to figure it out.”

“D-don’t some women…I’ll bet you would think it was awful if—”

“If what?”

She pushed against me, and it felt like she was on fire. She shivered and began to cry. “D-don’t, Lou. Don’t make me ask. J-just…”

So I didn’t make her ask.

Later on, when she was still crying but in a different way, the phone rang. It was Howard Hendricks.

“Lou, kid, you really did it! You really softened him up!”

“He signed a confession?” I said.

“Better than that, boy! He hanged himself! Did it with his belt! That proves he was guilty without us having to screw around before a judge and put the taxpayers to a lot of expense, and all that crap! Goddammit, Lou, I wish I was there right now to shake your hand!”

He stopped yelling and tried to get the gloat out of his voice. “Now, Lou, I want you to promise me that you won’t take this the wrong way.

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