The Alcoholics by Jim Thompson

Author:Jim Thompson [Thompson, Jim]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Alcoholics - Fiction, Detective and mystery stories, Mystery & Detective, Hard-Boiled, Crime, Romance, Alcoholics, Black humor (Literature), General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780679733133
Publisher: Vintage Books
Published: 1993-02-15T04:53:32.218000+00:00

11

Doctor Murphy always ate with his patients, those of them, at least, who were able to get to the dining room. It was often a nuisance to do so-nerve-wracking and time-consuming. But he felt that it was necessary, and worth the effort. Much could be discovered about the condition of a patient by his appetite or lack of it, and his manner of eating. Also, by eating with them, he could still any alcoholic suspicions that he looked down on them or was enjoying better food than they.

With the exception of Susan Kenfield, and, of course, Humphrey Van Twyne, they were all at the table today; even the General was there, very erect and urbane and so shaky that he could hardly get a spoonful of soup to his mouth. Doc Murphy studied him from the corner of his eye. He slipped something into Rufus' hand, and whispered to him. A minute later the General's coffee cup was removed, and another set before him. He drank, and his tremblings quieted, and he began to eat.

Doc sighed, silently. It was all wrong; it was murder. But you had to choose: slow murder or quick starvation. When a man had only one thing to live for, bad though it might be, how could you strip him of it completely?

He dropped the problem and moved on to another, ever-present and always hateful. Money. Mentally, and detesting himself for doing it, he began to add and subtract, divide and multiply, to figure over and over, always arriving at the same hopeless result.

The General? Nothing, next to nothing. No more than enough to take care of his medicines.

Bernie Edmonds? Nothing.

Susan Kenfield? Not now. Suzy was always broke and abysmally in debt after a binge. Not now, and now was all that counted.

The Holcombs? Yes. Right on the dot. They would even be good for a generous loan-which, of course, he couldn't ask for or accept. You couldn't be in debt to an alcoholic whom you had to treat. Inevitably, the debt would influence the treatment.

Jeff Sloane? Yes.

Van Twyne…?

Doctor Murphy's calculations ceased abruptly. He caught Rufus' attention, and whispered to him again. Rufus, who had been hovering about Jeff Sloan with a mixture of curiosity and relief, looked aghast.

"Me, Doctuh? You mean you want me to feed 'at-"

"Yes," said Doctor Murphy. "What's the matter? You were anxious enough to fool around up there yesterday."

"Yes, suh, but I wasn't foolin' around his mouth."

Doc grimaced. "Go on, now. He's the same as a child- perfectly harmless. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Yes, suh. You tell me that, but do you tell him?"

Miss Baker started to rise from her chair. "I can do it, Doctor. I'm all-"

"Rufus can do it. I've got some case reports I want you to type up."

"But I can do that, and-"

"Rufus!" snapped Doctor Murphy. "Move!"

"Yes, suh. Right away after a while, suh, Jus' soon as I take care all you-"

"Josephine can do anything that's left to do. Now, get moving."

Rufus moved, his great shoulders slumped in dejection.

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