Each Man Kills
wasn't so simple as that. In the morning I found I couldn't shakeoff the guilt which possessed me. Even two bottles of Scotch hadn'thelped me to forget. I was dead drunk and cold sober at the same time.
I phoned Ria's landlady and told her I had failed to reach the Huntersby phone, that I was sure something was amiss. Would she please go totheir flat and see if anything was wrong.
She was amused. "Really, Mr. Morris, you must be mistaken. Miss Mariawent out just an hour ago with her new husband. Surely you are jesting.Why she has never looked better. So happy. They have left for_Konigstein_. They have also left you a note.
I told her I would be right over, and hopped a cab. I began to think Iwas losing my mind. I had seen them both--dead. The landlady had seenthem this morning--_alive!_"
When I arrived, the landlady looked at me for a long moment, taking inmy rough, dark-blue complexion, unpressed clothes, red-rimmed eyes, thenwagged a finger playfully.
"You are playing a joke, no? A wedding joke, maybe. Here, too, we hazenewlyweds. But of course I understood. Who could help loving Miss Maria?Be of good heart, young man. For you there will be another, some day.But I talk too much. Here is your letter."
I went where I would be undisturbed, to the reading room of the libraryon the same street as my flat. To the musty, oblong, dimly lit roomwhose threshold sunshine and fresh air dared not cross. Without thesaving warmth of sunlight or the fresh, clean relief of sweet-smellingair, I read. Read, inhaling the pungent, sour smell of the Scotch I hadconsumed during the long, sleepless night. Read, and then doubted that Ihad read at all--but the blue ink on the white paper forced me toacknowledge its actuality. It had been written by Hunter, in a neat,scholar's script.
_Dear Morris_: (It began)
_Why should I not have wanted Maria? You did; others doubtless did. Whythen should she not be mine? There are many things worse than beingmarried to me; she might have married a man who beat her!_
_With her I have known the two happiest days of my life. I want no morethan that. I have no right to ask for more. Have we, any of us, a rightto endless bliss on this earth? Hardly._
_You thought of her welfare above all; for that I owe you someexplanation. You must be patient, you must believe, and in the end, youmust do as I ask._ You must.
_You wanted to know about me--of my life before Maria. Before Maria? Itseems strange to think about it. There is no life without Maria. Still,there was a time when for me she didn't exist. I have been constantlygoing forward to the day when I would meet her, yet there was a timewhen I didn't know where I would find her, or even what her name wouldbe!_
_It was chance that brought us together. For me, good chance; for you,possibly ill chance; for Maria? Only she can say. Some three years ago Iwas studying in England under a Rhodes Scholarship. The future heldgreat things for me. I was a Yank like yourself, and damn proud of it.Life in England seemed strange and slow and sometimes utterly dismalunder Austerity. Then, little by little I slipped into their slowerways, growing to love the people for their spunk, and finally coming tofeel I was one of them, so to speak._
_I have said everything slowed down: I was wrong. Studying intensifiedfor me. The folklore of the British Isles intrigued me. I delved intothe Black Welsh tales, the mischievous fancies of the Irish, the Englishlegends of the prowling werewolf. For me it was a relief from politicalscience, which suddenly palled and which smacked of treason in the lightof current events. My extracurricular research consumed the better partof my evenings. My books were and always have been a part of me, and aswas to be expected, I overdid it. I studied too hard with too littlelet-up. Sometimes it seemed to me there was more truth to what I readthan myth. It became somewhat of an obsession. Suddenly, one night,everything blacked out._
_I came to in a sanatorium. I didn't know how I got there, and when theyexplained it to me, I laughed. I thought they were joking. When I triedto get up, to walk, I collapsed. Then I knew how bad it had been. Iknew, too, I would have to go slowly._
_It was there I met Eve. She was beautiful. Not like Maria, who is likea fragile, fair, spun-sugar angel. Eve was more earthy, with skin likeivory, creamy and rich and pale. Her blue-black hair she wore long andgathered in the back. She looked about twenty-five, but a streak of purewhite ran back from each of her temples. She was the most striking womanI have ever met. I had never known anyone like her, nor have I since Isaw her last._
_You know how it is: the air of mystery about a woman makes a man like akid again. She reminded me of a sleek, black cat, with her large, hazeleyes. I bumped into her one day on the verandah, and spent every daywith her after that._
_The doctors wanted me to take exercise--short walks and the like, andEve went with me, struggling to keep up with me. The slightest efforttired her. She suffered from a rather nasty case of anemia. She seldomsmiled; the effort was probably too much for her. I saw her really smileonly once._
_We had been on one of our short hikes in the woods close by thegrounds. She stumbled over a twig or a branch, I'm not sure which.Suddenly she was in my arms. Have you ever held a cloud in your arms,Morris? So light she was, although she was almost as tall as I. Warm andpulsating. Her eyes held mine; it was almost uncanny. I have never beenaffected like that by a woman. Then I was kissing her; then a sharpsting, and I winced. There was the warm, salt taste of blood on my lips.I never knew how it happened. But she was smiling, her full mouth partedin the strangest smile I have ever seen. And those small white teethgleamed; and in her eyes, which were all black pupils now, with the irisquite hidden, was desire--or something beyond desire. I couldn't defineit then; now, I think I can. Her small, pink tongue darted over herlips, tasting, seeming to savor._
_I was frightened, for some indefinable reason. I wanted to get awayfrom her, from the woods, from myself. I grasped her arm roughly and westarted back for the grounds. We never mentioned the episode again, butwe neither of us ever forgot. She intrigued me now, more than ever. Thedoctors were able to satisfy my curiosity somewhat. They told me she hadbeen a patient for some four years. Some days she was better, some daysworse. She needed rest--much rest. Most days she slept past noon withtheir approval. Some days there was a faint flush beneath that ivoryskin; other days it was pale and cool._
_Just when we became lovers, I scarcely remember. Things were happeningso fast I could barely keep pace with them. There was a magnetism aboutEve which compelled. I couldn't have resisted if I'd wanted to--and Ididn't._
_I began to have long periods of lassitude, times when I would black outand remember nothing afterwards. And the dreams began. I would dream Iwas stroking a large, velvety-black cat, a cat with shining yellow eyesthat looked at me as if they knew my every thought. I would stroke itcontinuously and it would nip me playfully. Then, one night the dreamintensified: I was playing with the creature, caressing it gently, whenof a sudden its lips drew back in a snarl, and without warning it sprangat my throat and buried its fangs deep! I thought I could feel lifebeing drawn from me; I screamed._
_The doctors told me afterwards that I was semi-conscious for days; thatI had to be restrained._
_When I was well again, Eve came to see me. She was gentle--soothing.She held me close to her and oh! it was good to be alive and to belongto someone._
_I remember to this day what she wore. Black velvet lounging slacks, alow-necked amber satin blouse, caught at the "V" by a curiously wroughtantique silver pin. It was round, about four inches in diameter. In itscenter was the carved figure of a serpent coiled to strike. Its eyeswere deep amber topazes and its darting tongue was raised and set with ablood-red ruby._
_"What an unusual pin, Eve," I said "I've never seen it before, haveI?"_
_"No," she replied. "It belongs to the deep, dark, seldom discussedskeleton in the Orcaczy closet, Tod. You see, my great-great grandmotherwas quite a wicked lady, to hear tell. Went in for Witches' masses andthe like. They say she poisoned her husband, a rather elderly and verychildish man, for her lover, whom she subsequently married. Togetherthey did aw
ay with relatives who stood in the way of their accumulatingmore money. This pin was the instrument of death."_
_Her slim fingers pressed the ruby tongue and the pin opened, revealinga space large enough to secrete powder._
_"It's like those employed by the infamous Borgias, as you can see," shecontinued, shrugging. "Perhaps it was fate then, that her devoted newhusband tired of her once her fortune was assured him, took a youngmistress for himself, and disposed of the unfortunate wife, using herown pin to perpetrate her murder. She was excommunicated by her church,too, which must have made it most unpleasant for her, poor old dear."The slim shoulders straightened. "But let's not discuss such unpleasantthings, my dear. The important thing now is for you to get well quickly.I've missed you terribly, you know."_
_It was then I asked her to marry me. I knew I didn't really love her,but there seemed nothing to