The Talented MR Ripley

Patricia Highsmith
The Talented Mr Ripley
The Talented Mr Ripley Patricia Highsmith
(First published 1955)
1 Tom glanced behind him and saw the man coming out of the Green Cage, heading his way. Tom walked faster. There was no doubt that the man was after him. Tom had noticed him five minutes ago, eyeing him carefully from a table, as if he weren't quite sure, but almost. He had looked sure enough for Tom to down his drink in a hurry, ay and get out. !t the corner Tom leaned forward and trotted across "ifth !venue. There was #aoul's. $hould he take a chance and go in for another drink% Tem t fate and all that% &r should he beat it over to 'ark !venue and try losing him in a few dark doorways% He went into #aoul's. !utomatically, as he strolled to an em ty s ace at the bar, he looked around to see if there was anyone he knew. There was the big man with red hair, whose name he always forgot, sitting at a table with a blonde girl. The red(haired man waved a hand, and Tom's hand went u lim ly in res onse. He slid one leg over a stool and faced the door challengingly, yet with a flagrant casualness. 'Gin and tonic, lease,' he said to the barman. )as this the kind of man they would send after him% )as he, wasn't he, was he% He didn't look like a oliceman or a detective at all. He looked like a businessman, somebody's father, well(dressed, well(fed, greying at the tem les, an air of uncertainty about him. )as that the kind they sent on a *ob like this, maybe to start chatting with you in a bar, and then bang+((the hand on the shoulder, the other hand dis laying a oliceman's badge. Tom #i ley, you're under arrest. Tom watched the door. Here he came. The man looked around, saw him and immediately looked away. He removed his straw hat, and took a lace around the curve of the bar. ,y God, what did he want% He certainly wasn't a ervert, Tom thought for the second time, though now his tortured brain gro ed and roduced the actual word, as if the word could rotect him, because he would rather the man be a ervert than a oliceman. To
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a ervert, he could sim ly say, '-o, thank you,' and smile and walk away. Tom slid back on the stool, bracing himself. Tom saw the man make a gesture of ost onement to the barman, and come around the bar towards him. Here it was+ Tom stared at him, aralysed. They couldn't give you more than ten years, Tom thought. ,aybe fifteen, but with good conduct((.n the instant the man's li s arted to s eak, Tom had a ang of des erate, agoni/ed regret. ''ardon me, are you Tom #i ley%' '0es.' ',y name is Herbert Greenleaf. #ichard Greenleaf's father.' The e1 ression on his face was more confusing to Tom than if he had focused a gun on him. The face was friendly, smiling and ho eful. '0ou're a friend of #ichard's, aren't you%' .t made a faint connection in his brain. 2ickie Greenleaf. ! tall blond fellow. He had quite a bit of money, Tom remembered. '&h, 2ickie Greenleaf. 0es.' '!t any rate, you know Charles and ,arta $chriever. They're the ones who told me about you, that you might((uh((2o you think we could sit down at a table%' '0es,' Tom said agreeably, and icked u his drink. He followed the man towards an em ty table at the back of the little room. #e rieved, he thought. "ree+ -obody was going to arrest him. This was about something else. -o matter what it was, it wasn't grand larceny or tam ering with the mails or whatever they called it. ,aybe #ichard was in some kind of *am. ,aybe ,r Greenleaf wanted hel , or advice. Tom knew *ust what to say to a father like ,r Greenleaf. '. wasn't quite sure you were Tom #i ley,' ,r Greenleaf said. '.'ve seen you only once before, . think. 2idn't you come u to the house once with #ichard%' '. think . did.' 'The $chrievers gave me a descri tion of you, too. )e've all been trying to reach you, because the $chrievers wanted us to meet at their house. $omebody told them you went to the Green Cage bar now and then. This is the first night .'ve tried to find you, so . su ose . should consider myself lucky.' He smiled. '. wrote you a letter last week, but maybe you didn't get it.' '-o, . didn't.' ,arc wasn't forwarding his mail, Tom thought. 2amn him. ,aybe there was a cheque there from !untie 2ottie. '. moved a
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week or so ago,' Tom added. '&h, . see. . didn't say much in my letter. &nly that .'d like to see you and have a chat with you. The $chrievers seemed to think you knew #ichard quite well.' '. remember him, yes.' '3ut you're not writing to him now%' He looked disa ointed. '-o. . don't think .'ve seen 2ickie for a cou le of years.' 'He's been in 4uro e for two years. The $chrievers s oke very highly of you, and thought you might have some influence on #ichard if you were to write to him. . want him to come home. He has res onsibilities here((but *ust now he ignores anything that . or his mother try to tell him.' Tom was u//led. '5ust what did the $chrievers say%' 'They said((a arently they e1aggerated a little((that you and #ichard were very good friends. . su ose they took it for granted you were writing him all along. 0ou see, . know so few of #ichard's friends any more (' He glanced at Tom's glass, as if he would have liked to offer him a drink, at least, but Tom's glass was nearly full. Tom remembered going to a cocktail arty at the $chrievers' with 2ickie Greenleaf. ,aybe the Greenleafs were more friendly with the $chrievers than he was, and that was how it had all come about, because he hadn't seen the $chrievers more than three or four times in his life. !nd the last time, Tom thought, was the night he had worked out Charley $chriever's income ta1 for him. Charley was a T6 director, and he had been in a com lete muddle with his freelance accounts. Charley had thought he was a genius for having do ed out his ta1 and made it lower than the one Charley had arrived at, and erfectly legitimately lower. ,aybe that was what had rom ted Charley's recommendation of him to ,r Greenleaf. 5udging him from that night, Charley could have told ,r Greenleaf that he was intelligent, level( headed, scru ulously honest, and very willing to do a favour. .t was a slight error. '. don't su ose you know of anybody else close to #ichard who might be able to wield a little influence%' ,r Greenleaf asked rather itifully. There was 3uddy 7ankenau, Tom thought, but he didn't want to wish a chore like this on 3uddy. Tm afraid . don't,' Tom said, shaking his head. ')hy won't #ichard come home%' 'He says he refers living over there. 3ut his mother's quite ill right
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now(()ell, those are family roblems. .'m sorry to annoy you like this.' He assed a hand in a distraught way over his thin, neatly combed grey hair. 'He says he's ainting. There's no harm in that, but he hasn't the talent to be a ainter. He's got great talent for boat designing, though, if he'd *ust ut his mind to it.' He looked u as a waiter s oke to him. '$cotch and soda, lease. 2ewar's. 0ou're not ready% '-o, thanks,' Tom said. ,r Greenleaf looked at Tom a ologetically. '0ou're the first of #ichard's friends who's even been willing to listen. They all take the attitude that .'m trying to interfere with his life.' Tom could easily understand that. '. certainly wish . could hel ,' he said olitely. He remembered now that 2ickie's money came from a shi building com any. $mall sailing boats. -o doubt his father wanted him to come home and take over the family firm. Tom smiled at ,r Greenleaf, meaninglessly, then finished his drink. Tom was on the edge of his chair, ready to leave, but the disa ointment across the table was almost al able. ')here is he staying in 4uro e%' Tom asked, not caring a damn where he was staying. '.n a town called ,ongibello, south of -a les. There's not even a library there, he tells me. 2ivides his time between sailing and ainting. He's bought a house there. #ichard has his own income((nothing huge, but enough to live on in .taly, a arently. )ell, every man to his own taste, but .'m sure . can't see the attractions of the lace.' ,r Greenleaf smiled bravely. 'Can't . offer you a drink, ,r #i ley%' he asked when the waiter came with his $cotch and soda. Tom wanted to leave. 3ut he hated to leave the man sitting alone with his fresh drink. 'Thanks, . think . will,' he said, and handed the waiter his glass. 'Charley $chriever told me you were in the insurance business,' ,r Greenleaf said leasantly. 'That was a little while ago. . (' 3ut he didn't want to say he was working for the 2e artment of .nternal #evenue, not now. '.'m in the accounting de artment of an advertising agency at the moment.' '&h%' -either said anything for a minute. ,r Greenleaf's eyes were fi1ed on him with a athetic, hungry e1 ression. )hat on earth could he say% Tom was sorry he had acce ted the drink. 'How old is 2ickie now, by the way%' he asked. 'He's twenty(five.'
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$o am ., Tom thought. 2ickie was robably having the time of his life over there. !n income, a house, a boat. )hy should he want to come home% 2ickie's face was becoming clearer in his memory8 he had a big smile, blondish hair with cris waves in it, a ha y(go(lucky face. 2ickie was lucky. )hat was he himself doing at twenty(five% 7iving from week to week. -o bank account. 2odging co s now for the first time in his life. He had a talent for mathematics. )hy in hell didn't they ay him for it, somewhere% Tom reali/ed that all his muscles had tensed, that the match(cover in his fingers was mashed sideways, nearly flat. He was bored, God(damned bloody bored, bored, bored+ He wanted to be back at the bar, by himself. Tom took a gul of his drink. .'d be very glad to write to 2ickie, if you give me his address,' he said quickly. '. su ose he'll remember me. )e were at a weekend arty once out on 7ong .sland, . remember. 2ickie and . went out and gathered mussels, and everyone had them for breakfast.' Tom smiled. '! cou le of us got sick, and it wasn't a very good arty. 3ut . remember 2ickie talking that weekend about going to 4uro e. He must have left *ust (' '. remember+' ,r Greenleaf said. That was the last weekend #ichard was here. . think he told me about the mussels.' He laughed rather loudly. '. came u to your a artment a few times, too,' Tom went on, getting into the s irit of it. '2ickie showed me some shi models that were sitting on a table in his room.' 'Those are only childhood efforts+' ,r Greenleaf was beaming. '2id he ever show you his frame models% &r his drawings%' 2ickie hadn't, but Tom said brightly, '0es+ &f course he did. 'en( and(ink drawings. "ascinating, some of them.' Tom had never seen them, but he could see them now, recise draughtsman's drawings with every line and bolt and screw labelled, could see 2ickie smiling, holding them u for him to look at, and he could have gone on for several minutes describing details for ,r Greenleafs delight, but he checked himself. '0es, #ichard's got talent along those lines,' ,r Greenleaf said with a satisfied air. '. think he has,' Tom agreed. His boredom had sli ed into another gear. Tom knew the sensations. He had them sometimes at arties, but generally when he was having dinner with someone with whom he hadn't wanted to have dinner in the first lace, and the
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evening got longer and longer. -ow he could be maniacally olite for erha s another whole hour, if he had to be, before something in him e1 loded and sent him running out of the door. .'m sorry .'m not quite free now or .'d be very glad to go over and see if . could ersuade #ichard myself. ,aybe . could have some influence on him,' he said, *ust because ,r Greenleaf wanted him to say that. '.f you seriously think so((that is, . don't know if you're lanning a tri to 4uro e or not.' '-o, .'m not,' '#ichard was always so influenced by his friends. .f you or somebody like you who knew him could get a leave of absence, .'d even send them over to talk to him. . think it'd be worth more than my going over, anyway. . don't su ose you could ossibly get a leave of absence from your resent *ob, could you%' Tom's heart took a sudden lea . He ut on an e1 ression of reflection. .t was a ossibility. $omething in him had smelt it out and lea t at it even before his brain. 'resent *ob8 nil. He might have to leave town soon, anyway. He wanted to leave -ew 0ork. '. might,' he said carefully, with the same ondering e1 ression, as if he were even now going over the thousands of little ties that could revent him. '.f you did go, .'d be glad to take care of your e1 enses, that goes without saying. 2o you really think you might be able to arrange it% $ay, this fall%' .t was already the middle of $e tember. Tom stared at the gold signet ring with the nearly worn(away crest on ,r Greenleaf's little finger. '. think . might. .'d be glad to see #ichard again(es ecially if you think . might be of some hel .' '. do+ . think he'd listen to you. Then the mere fact that you don't know him very well((.f you ut it to him strongly why you think he ought to come home, he'd know you hadn't any a1e to grind.' ,r Greenleaf leaned back in his chair, looking at Tom with a roval. '"unny thing is, 5im 3urke and his wife((5im's my artner (they went by ,ongibello last year when they were on a cruise. #ichard romised he'd come home when the winter began. 7ast winter. 5im's given him u . )hat boy of twenty(five listens to an old man si1ty or more% 0ou'll robably succeed where the rest of us have failed+' '. ho e so,' Tom said modestly. 'How about another drink% How about a nice brandy%'
9 .t was after midnight when Tom started home, ,r Greenleaf had offered to dro him off in a ta1i, but Tom had not wanted him to see where he lived((in a dingy brownstone between Third and $econd with a '#&&,$ T& 74T' sign hanging out. "or the last two and half weeks Tom had been living with 3ob 2elancey, a young man he hardly knew, but 3ob had been the only one of Tom's friends and acquaintances in -ew 0ork who had volunteered to ut him u when he had been without a lace to stay. Tom had not asked any of his friends u to 3ob's, and had not even told anybody where he was living. The main advantage of 3ob's lace was that he could get his George ,c!l in mail there with the minimum chance of detection. 3ut the smelly *ohn down the hall that didn't lock, that grimy single room that looked as if it had been lived in by a thousand different eo le who had left behind their articular kind of filth and never lifted a hand to clean it, those slithering stacks of 6ogue and Har er's 3a/aar and those big chi(chi smoked(glass bowls all over the lace, filled with tangles of string and encils and cigarette butts and decaying fruit+ 3ob was a freelance window decorator for sho s and de artment stores, but now the only work he did was occasional *obs for Third !venue antique sho s, and some antique sho had given him the smoked(glass bowls as a ayment for something. Tom had been shocked at the sordidness of the lace, shocked that he even knew anybody who lived like that, but he had known that he wouldn't live there very long. !nd now ,r Greenleaf had turned u . $omething always turned u . That was Tom's hiloso hy. 5ust before he climbed the brownstone ste s, Tom sto ed and looked carefully in both directions. -othing but an old woman airing her dog, and a weaving old man coming around the corner from Third !venue. .f there was any sensation he hated, it was that of being followed, by anybody. !nd lately he had it all the time. He ran u the ste s. ! lot the sordidness mattered now, he thought as he went into
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the room. !s soon as he could get a ass ort, he'd be sailing for 4uro e, robably in a first(class cabin. )aiters to bring him things when he ushed a button+ 2ressing for dinner, strolling into a big dining( room, talking with eo le at his table like a gentleman+ He could congratulate himself on tonight, he thought. He had behaved *ust right. ,r Greenleaf couldn't ossibly have had the im ression that he had wangled the invitation to 4uro e. 5ust the o osite. He wouldn't let ,r Greenleaf down. He'd do his very best with 2ickie. ,r Greenleaf was such a decent fellow himself, he took it for granted that everybody else in the world was decent, too. Tom had almost forgotten such eo le e1isted. $lowly he took off his *acket and untied his tie, watching every move he made as if it were somebody else's movements he was watching. !stonishing how much straighter he was standing now, what a different look there was in his face. .t was one of the few times in his life that he felt leased with himself. He ut a hand into 3ob's glutted closet and thrust the hangers aggressively to right and left to make room for his suit. Then he went into the bathroom. The old rusty showerhead sent a *et against the shower curtain and another *et in an erratic s iral that he could hardly catch to wet himself, but it was better than sitting in the filthy tub. )hen he woke u the ne1t morning 3ob was not there, and Tom saw from a glance at his bed that he hadn't come home. Tom *um ed out of bed, went to the two(ring burner and ut on coffee. 5ust as well 3ob wasn't home this morning. He didn't want to tell 3ob about the 4uro ean tri . !ll that crummy bum would see in it was a free tri . !nd 4d ,artin, too, robably, and 3ert 6isscr, and all the other crumbs he knew. He wouldn't tell any of them, and he wouldn't have anybody seeing him off. Tom began to whistle. He was invited to dinner tonight at the Greenleafs' a artment on 'ark !venue. "ifteen minutes later, showered, shaved, and dressed in a suit and a stri ed tie that he thought would look well in his ass ort hoto, Tom was strolling u and down the room with a cu of black coffee in his hand, waiting for the morning mail. !fter the mail, he would go over to #adio City to take care of the ass ort business. )hat should he do this afternoon% Go to some art e1hibits, so he could chat about them tonight with the Greenleafs. 2o some research on 3urke(Greenleaf )atercraft, .nc., so ,r Greenleaf would know that he took an interest in his work%
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The whack of the mailbo1 came faintly through the o en window, and Tom went downstairs. He waited until the mailman was down the front ste s and out of sight before he took the letter addressed to George ,c!l in down from the edge of the mailbo1 frame where the mailman had stuck it. Tom ri ed it o en. &ut came a cheque for one hundred and nineteen dollars and fifty(four cents, ayable to the Collector of .nternal #evenue. Good old ,rs 4dith ). $u eraugh+ 'aid without a whim er, without even a tele hone call. .t was a good omen. He went u stairs again, tore u ,rs $u eraugh's envelo e and dro ed it into the garbage bag. He ut her cheque into a manila envelo e in the inside ocket of one of his *ackets in the closet. This raised his total in cheques to one thousand eight hundred and si1ty(three dollars and fourteen cents, he calculated in his head. ! ity that he couldn't cash them. &r that some idiot hadn't aid in cash yet, or made out a cheque to George ,c!l in, but so far no one had. Tom had a bank messenger's identification card that he had found somewhere with an old date on it that he could try to alter, but he was afraid he couldn't get away with cashing the cheques, even with a forged letter of authori/ation for whatever the sum was. $o it amounted to no more than a ractical *oke, really. Good clean s ort. He wasn't stealing money from anybody. 3efore he went to 4uro e, he thought, he'd destroy the cheques. There were seven more ros ects on his list. $houldn't he try *ust one more in these last ten days before he sailed% )alking home last evening, after seeing ,r Greenleaf, he had thought that if ,rs $u eraugh and Carlos de $evilla aid u , he'd call it quits. ,r de $evilla hadn't aid u yet((he needed a good scare by tele hone to ut the fear of God into him, Tom thought((but ,rs $u eraugh had been so easy, he was tem ted to try *ust one more. Tom took a mauve(coloured stationery bo1 from his suitcase in the closet. There were a few sheets of stationery in the bo1, and below them a stack of various forms he had taken from the .nternal #evenue office when he had worked there as a stockroom clerk a few weeks ago. &n the very bottom was his list of ros ects (carefully chosen eo le who lived in the 3ron1 or in 3rooklyn and would not be too inclined to ay the -ew 0ork office a ersonal visit, artists and writers and freelance eo le who had no withholding ta1es, and who made from seven to twelve thousand a year. .n that bracket, Tom figured
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that eo le seldom hired rofessional ta1 men to com ute their ta1es, while they earned enough money to be logically accused of having made a two((or three(hundred dollar error in their ta1 com utations. There was )illiam 5. $latterer, *ournalist: 'hili #obillard, musician: "rieda Hoehn, illustrator: 5ose h 5. Gennari, hotogra her: "rederick #eddington, artist: "rances ;arnegis((Tom had a hunch about #eddington. He was a comic(book artist. He robably didn't know whether he was coming or going. He chose two forms headed '-&T.C4 &" 4##&# .C&,'<T!T.&-', sli ed a carbon between them, and began to co y ra idly the data below #eddington's name on his list. .ncome8 =11, 9>? 41em tions8 1. 2eductions8 =@??. Credits8 nil. #emittance8 nil. .nterest8 Ahe hesitated a momentB =9 .1@. 3alance due8 =9CC .D@. Then he took a iece of ty ewriter a er stam ed with the 2e artment of .nternal #evenue's 7e1ington !venue address from his su ly in his carbon folder, crossed out the address with one slanting line of his en, and ty ed below it8 2ear $ir8 2ue to an overflow at our regular 7e1ington !venue office, your re ly should be sent to8 !d*ustment 2e artment !ttention of George ,c!l in 1ED 4 .>1 $treet, -ew 0ork 99, -ew 0ork. Thank you. #al h ". "ischer AGen. 2ir. !d*. 2e t.B Tom signed it with a scrolly, illegible signature. He ut the other forms away in case 3ob should come in suddenly, and icked u the tele hone. He had decided to give ,r #eddington a reliminary rod. He got ,r #eddington's number from information and called it. ,r #eddington was at home. Tom e1 lained the situation briefly, and e1 ressed sur rise that ,r #eddington had not yet received the notice from the !d*usting 2e artment. 'That should have gone out a few days ago,' Tom said. '0ou'll undoubtedly get it tomorrow. )e've been a little rushed around here.' '3ut .'ve aid my ta1,' said the alarmed voice at the other end. 'They were all (' 'These things can ha en, you know, when the income's earned on a freelance basis with no withholding ta1. )e've been over your return very carefully, ,r #eddington. There's no mistake. !nd we wouldn't like to sla a lien on the office you work for or your agent or whatever (' Here he chuckled. ! friendly, ersonal chuckle generally worked wonders.'( but we'll, have to do that unless you ay within forty(eight hours. .'m sorry the notice hasn't reached you before now.
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!s . said, we've been retty (' '.s there anyone there . can talk to about it if . come in%' ,r #eddington asked an1iously. 'That's a hell of a lot of money+' ')ell, there is, of course.' Tom's voice always got folksy at this oint. He sounded like a genial old codger of si1ty(odd, who might be as atient as could be if ,r #eddington came in, but who wouldn't yield by so much as a red cent, for all the talking and e1 laining ,r #eddington might do. George ,c!l in re resented the Ta1 2e artment of the <nited $tates of !merica, suh. '0ou can talk to me, of course,' Tom drawled, 'but there's absolutely no mistake about this, ,r #eddington. .'m *ust thinking of saving you your time. 0ou can come in if you want to, but .'ve got all your records right here in my hand.' $ilence. ,r #eddington wasn't going to ask him anything about records, because he robably didn't know what to begin asking. 3ut if ,r #eddington were to ask him to e1 lain what it was all about, Tom had a lot of hash about net income versus accrued income, balance due versus com utation, interest at si1 er cent annum accruing from due date of the ta1 until aid on any balance which re resents ta1 shown on original return, which he could deliver in a slow voice as inca able of interru tion as a $herman tank. $o far, no one had insisted in coming in erson to hear more of that. ,r #eddington was backing down, too. Tom could hear it in the silence. '!ll right,' ,r #eddington said in a tone of colla se. .'ll read the notice when . get it tomorrow.' '!ll right, ,r #eddington,' he said, and hung u . Tom sat there for a moment, giggling, the alms of his thin hands ressed together between his knees. Then he *um ed u , ut 3ob's ty ewriter away again, combed his light(brown hair neatly in front of the mirror, and set off for #adio City.
C 'H477&(&, Tom, my boy+F ,r Greenleaf said in a voice that romised good martinis, a gourmet's dinner, and a bed for the night in case he
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got too tired to go home. '4mily, this is Tom #i ley+' '.'m so ha y to meet you+' she said warmly. 'How do you do, ,rs Greenleaf%' $he was very much what he had e1 ected((blonde, rather tall and slender, with enough formality to kee him on his good behaviour, yet with the same naive good(will(toward(all that ,r Greenleaf had. ,r Greenleaf led them into the living(room. 0es, he had been here before with 2ickie. ',r #i ley's in the insurance business,' ,r Greenleaf announced, and Tom thought he must have had a few already, or he was very nervous tonight, because Tom had given him quite a descri tion last night of the advertising agency where he had said he was working. '-ot a very e1citing *ob,' Tom said modestly to ,rs Greenleaf. ! maid came into the room with a tray of martinis and cana GHs. ',r #i ley's been here before,' ,r Greenleaf said. 'He's come here with #ichard.' '&h, has he% . don't believe . met you, though.' $he smiled. '!re you from -ew 0ork%' '-o, .'m from 3oston,' Tom said. That was true. !bout thirty minutes later((*ust the right time later, Tom thought, because the Greenleafs had ke t insisting that he drink another and another martini((they went into a dining(room off the living(room, where a table was set for three with candles, huge dark(blue dinner na kins, and a whole cold chicken in as ic. 3ut first there was cGHleri rGHmoulade. Tom was very fond of it. He said so. '$o is #ichard+' ,rs Greenleaf said. 'He always liked it the way our cook makes it. ! ity you can't take him some.' '.'ll ut it with the socks,' Tom said, smiling, and ,rs Greenleaf laughed. $he had told him she would like him to take #ichard some black woollen socks from 3rooks 3rothers, the kind #ichard always wore. The conversation was dull, and the dinner su erb. .n answer to a question of ,rs Greenleaf's, Tom told her that he was working for an advertising firm called #othenberg, "leming and 3arter. )hen he referred to it again, he deliberately called it #eddington, "leming and 'arker. ,r Greenleaf didn't seem to notice the difference. Tom mentioned the firm's name a second time when he and ,r Greenleaf were alone in the living room after dinner. '2id you go to school in 3oston%' ,r Greenleaf asked.
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'-o, sir. . went to 'rinceton for a while, then . visited another aunt in 2enver and went to college there.' Tom waited, ho ing ,r Greenleaf would ask him something about 'rinceton, but he didn't. Tom could have discussed the system of teaching history, the cam us restrictions, the atmos here at the weekend dances, the olitical tendencies of the student body, anything. Tom had been very friendly last summer with a 'rinceton *unior who had talked of nothing but 'rinceton, so that Tom had finally um ed him for more and more, foreseeing a time when he might be able to use the information. Tom had told the Greenleafs that he had been raised by his !unt 2ottie in 3oston. $he had taken him to 2enver when he was si1teen, and actually he had only finished high school there, but there had been a young man named 2on ,i/ell rooming in his !unt 3ea's house in 2enver who had been going to the <niversity of Colorado. Tom felt as if he had gone there, too. '$ ecialise in anything in articular%' ,r Greenleaf asked. '$ort of divided myself between accounting and 4nglish com osition,' Tom re lied with a smile, knowing it was such a dull answer that nobody would ossibly ursue it. ,rs Greenleaf came in with a hotogra h album, and Tom sat beside her on the sofa while she turned through it. #ichard taking his first ste , #ichard in a ghastly full( age colour hotogra h dressed and osed as the 3lue 3oy, with long blond curls. The album was not interesting to him until #ichard got to be si1teen or so, long(legged, slim, with the wave tightening in his hair. $o far as Tom could see, he had hardly changed between si1teen and twenty(three or (four, when the ictures of him sto ed, and it was astonishing to Tom how little the bright, naive smile changed. Tom could not hel feeling that #ichard was not very intelligent, or else he loved to be hotogra hed and thought he looked best with his mouth s read from ear to ear, which was not very intelligent of him, either. '. haven't gotten round to asting these in yet,' ,rs Greenleaf said, handing him a batch of loose ictures. 'These are all from 4uro e.' They were more interesting8 2ickie in what looked like a cafGH in 'aris, 2ickie on a beach. .n several of them he was frowning. 'This is ,ongibello, by the way,' ,rs Greenleaf said, indicating a icture of 2ickie ulling a rowboat u on the sand. The icture was backgrounded by dry, rocky mountains and a fringe of little white houses along the shore. '!nd here's the girl there, the only other
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!merican who lives there.' ',arge $herwood,' ,r Greenleaf su lied. He sat across the room, but he was leaning forward, following the icture(showing intently. The girl was in a bathing suit on the beach, her arms around her knees, healthy and unso histicated(looking, with tousled, short blonde hair((the good(egg ty e. There was a good icture of #ichard in shorts, sitting on the ara et of a terrace. He was smiling, but it was not the same smile, Tom saw. #ichard looked more oised in the 4uro ean ictures. Tom noticed that ,rs Greenleaf was staring down at the rug in front of her. He remembered the moment at the table when she had said, '. wish .'d never heard of 4uro e+' and ,r Greenleaf had given her an an1ious glance and then smiled at him, as if such outbursts had occurred before. -ow he saw tears in her eyes. ,r Greenleaf was getting u to come to her. ',rs Greenleaf,' Tom said gently, '. want you to know that .'ll do everything . can to make 2ickie come back.' '3less you, Tom, bless you.' $he ressed Tom's hand that rested on his thigh. '4mily, don't you think it's time you went to bed%' ,r Greenleaf asked, bending over her. Tom stood u as ,rs Greenleaf did. '. ho e you'll come again to ay us a visit before you go, Tom,' she said. '$ince #ichard s gone, we seldom have any young men to the house. . miss them.' '.'d be delighted to come again,' Tom said. ,r Greenleaf went out of the room with her. Tom remained standing, his hands at his sides, his head high. .n a large mirror on the wall he could sec himself8 the u right, self(res ecting young man again. He looked quickly away. He was doing the right thing, behaving the right way. 0et he had a feeling of guilt. )hen he had said to ,rs Greenleaf *ust now, .'ll do everything . can... )ell, he meant it. He wasn't trying to fool anybody. He felt himself beginning to sweat, and he tried to rela1. )hat was he so worried about% He'd felt so well tonight+ )hen he had said that about !unt 2ottie ( Tom straightened, glancing at the door, but the door had not o ened. That had been the only time tonight when he had felt uncomfortable, unreal, the way he might have felt if he
15
had been lying, yet it had been ractically the only thing he had said that was true8 ,y arents died when . was very small. . was raised by my aunt in 3oston. ,r Greenleaf came into the room. His figure seemed to ulsate and grow larger and larger. Tom blinked his eyes, feeling a sudden terror of him, an im ulse to attack him before he was attacked. '$u ose we sam le some brandy%' ,r Greenleaf said, o ening a anel beside the fire lace. .t's like a movie, Tom thought. .n a minute, ,r Greenleaf or somebody else's voice would say, '&kay, cut+' and he would rela1 again and find himself back in #aoul's with the gin and tonic in front of him. -o, back in the Green Cage. 'Had enough%' ,r Greenleaf asked. '2on't drink this, if you don't want it.' Tom gave a vague nod, and ,r Greenleaf looked u//led for an instant, then oured the two brandies. ! cold fear was running over Tom's body. He was thinking of the incident in the drugstore last week, though that was all over and he wasn't really afraid, he reminded himself, not now. There was a drugstore on $econd !venue whose hone number he gave out to eo le who insisted on calling him again about their income ta1. He gave it out as the hone number of the !d*ustment 2e artment where he could be reached only between three(thirty and four on )ednesday and "riday afternoons. !t these times, Tom hung around the booth in the drugstore, waiting for the hone to ring. )hen the druggist had looked at him sus iciously the second time he had been there, Tom had said that he was waiting for a call from his girl friend. 7ast "riday when he had answered the tele hone, a man's voice had said, '0ou know what we're talking about, don't you% )e know where you live, if you want us to come to your lace... )e've got the stuff for you, if you've got it for us.' !n insistent yet evasive voice, so that Tom had thought it was some kind of a trick and hadn't been able to answer anything. Then, '7isten, we're coming right over. To your house.' Tom's legs had felt like *elly when he got out of the hone booth, and then he had seen the druggist staring at him, wide(eyed, anicky( looking, and the conversation had suddenly e1 lained itself8 the druggist sold do e, and he was afraid that Tom was a olice detective who had come to get the goods on him. Tom had started laughing, had walked out laughing u roariously, staggering as he went,
16
because his legs were still weak from his own fear. 'Thinking about 4uro e%' ,r Greenleaf's voice said. Tom acce ted the glass ,r Greenleaf was holding out to him. '0es, . was,' Tom said. ')ell, . ho e you en*oy your tri , Tom, as well as have some effect on #ichard. 3y the way, 4mily likes you a lot. $he told me so. . didn't have to ask her.' ,r Greenleaf rolled his brandy glass between his hands. ',y wife has leukaemia, Tom.' '&h. That's very serious, isn't it%' '0es. $he may not live a year.' '.'m sorry to hear that,' Tom said. ,r Greenleaf ulled a a er out of his ocket. '.'ve got a list of boats. . think the usual Cherbourg way is quickest, and also the most interesting. 0ou'd take the boat train to 'aris, then a slee er down over the !l s to #ome and -a les.' 'That'd be fine.' .t began to sound e1citing to him. '0ou'll have to catch a bus from -a les to #ichard's village. .'ll write him about you((not telling him that you're an emissary from me,' he added, smiling, 'but .'ll tell him we've met. #ichard ought to ut you u , but if he can't for some reason, there're hotels in the town. . e1 ect you and #ichard'll hit it off all right. -ow as to money (' ,r Greenleaf smiled his fatherly smile. '. ro ose to give you si1 hundred dollars in traveller's cheques a art from your round(tri ticket. 2oes that suit you% The si1 hundred should see you through nearly two months, and if you need more, all you have to do is wire me, my boy. 0ou don't look like a young man who'd throw money down the drain.' 'That sounds am le, sir.' ,r Greenleaf got increasingly mellow and *olly on the brandy, and Tom got increasingly close(mouthed and sour. Tom wanted to get out of the a artment. !nd yet he still wanted to go to 4uro e, and wanted ,r Greenleaf to a rove of him. The moments on the sofa were more agonising than the moments in the bar last night when he had been so bored, because now that break into another gear didn't come. $everal times Tom got u with his drink and strolled to the fire lace and back, and when he looked into the mirror he saw that his mouth was turned down at the corners. ,r Greenleaf was rollicking on about #ichard and himself in 'aris, when #ichard had been ten years old. .t was not in the least interesting. .f anything ha ened with the olice in the ne1t ten days,
17
Tom thought, ,r Greenleaf would take him in. He could tell ,r. Greenleaf that he'd sublet his a artment in a hurry, or something like that, and sim ly hide out here. Tom felt awful, almost hysically ill. ',r Greenleaf, . think . should be going.' '-ow% 3ut . wanted to show you(()ell, never mind. !nother time.' Tom knew he should have asked, '$how me what%' and been atient while he was shown whatever it was, but he couldn't. '. want you to visit the yards, of course+' ,r Greenleaf said cheerfully. ')hen can you come out% &nly during your lunch hour, . su ose. . think you should be able to tell #ichard what the yards look like these days.' '0es((. could come in my lunch hour.' 'Give me a call any day, Tom. 0ou've got my card with my rivate number. .f you give me half an hour's notice, .'ll have a man ick you u at your office and drive you out. )e'll have a sandwich as we walk through, and he'll drive you back.' .'ll call you,' Tom said. He felt he would faint if he stayed one minute longer in the dimly lighted foyer, but ,r Greenleaf was chuckling again, asking him if he had read a certain book by Henry 5ames. '.'m sorry to say . haven't, sir, not that one,' Tom said. ')ell, no matter,' ,r Greenleaf smiled. Then they shook hands, a long suffocating squee/e from ,r Greenleaf, and it was over. 3ut the ained, frightened e1 ression was still on his face as he rode down in the elevator, Tom saw. He leaned in the corner of the elevator in an e1hausted way, though he knew as soon as he hit the lobby he would fly out of the door and kee on running, running, all the way home.
I TH4 atmos here of the city became stranger as the days went on. .t was as if something had gone out of -ew 0ork((the realness or the im ortance of it((and the city was utting on a show *ust for him, a
18
colossal show with its buses, ta1is, and hurrying eo le on the sidewalks, its television shows in all the Third !venue bars, its movie marquees lighted u in broad daylight, and its sound effects of thousands of honking horns and human voices, talking for no ur ose whatsoever. !s if when his boat left the ier on $aturday, the whole city of -ew 0ork would colla se with a oof like a lot of cardboard on a stage. &r maybe he was afraid. He hated water. He had never been anywhere before on water, e1ce t to -ew &rleans from -ew 0ork and back to -ew 0ork again, but then he had been working on a banana boat mostly below deck, and he had hardly realised he was on water. The few times he had been on deck the sight of water had at first frightened him, then made him feel sick, and he had always run below deck again, where, contrary to what eo le said, he had felt better. His arents had drowned in 3oston Harbour, and Tom had always thought that robably had something to do with it, because as long as he could remember he had been afraid of water, and he had never learned how to swim. .t gave Tom a sick, em ty feeling at the it of his stomach to think that in less than a week he would have water below him, miles dee , and that undoubtedly he would have to look at it most of the time, because eo le on ocean liners s ent most of their time on deck. !nd it was articularly un(chic to be seasick, he felt. He had never been seasick, but he came very near it several times in those last days, sim ly thinking about the voyage to Cherbourg. He had told 3ob 2elancey that he was moving in a week, but he hadn't said where. 3ob did not seem interested, anyway. They saw very little of each other at the "ifty(first $treet lace. Tom had gone to ,arc 'riminger's house in 4ast("orty(fifth $treet((he still had the keys((to ick u a cou le of things he had forgotten, and he had gone at an hour when he had thought ,arc wouldn't be there, but ,arc had come in with his new housemate, 5oel, a thin dri of a young man who worked for a ublishing house, and ,arc had ut on one of his suave ''lease(do( *ust(as(you(like' acts for 5oel's benefit, though if 5oel hadn't been there ,arc would have cursed him out in language that even a 'ortuguese sailor wouldn't have used. ,arc Ahis given name was, of all things, ,arcellusB was an ugly mug of a man with a rivate income and a hobby of hel ing out young men in tem orary financial difficulties by utting them u in his two(storey, three(bedroom house, and laying God by telling them what they could and couldn't do
19
around the lace and by giving them advice as to their lives and their *obs, generally rotten advice. Tom had stayed there three months, though for nearly half that time ,arc had been in "lorida and he had had the house all to himself, but when ,arc had come back he had made a big stink about a few ieces of broken glassware((,arc laying God again, the $tern "ather((and Tom had gotten angry enough, for once, to stand u for himself and talk to him back. )hereu on ,arc had thrown him out, after collecting si1ty(three dollars from him for broken glassware. The old tightwad+ He should have been an old maid, Tom thought, at the head of a girls' school. Tom was bitterly sorry he had ever laid eyes on ,arc 'riminger, and the sooner he could forget ,arc's stu id, ig(like eyes, his massive *aw, his ugly hands with the gaudy rings Awaving through the air, ordering this and that from everybodyB, the ha ier he would be. The only one of his friends he felt like telling about his 4uro ean tri was Cleo, and he went to see her on the Thursday before he sailed. Cleo 2obelle was a slim dark(haired girl who could have been anything from twenty(three to thirty, Tom didn't know, who lived with her arents in Grade $quare and ainted in a small way((a very small way, in fact, on little ieces of ivory no bigger than ostage stam s that had to be viewed through a magnifying glass, and Cleo used a magnifying glass when she ainted them. '3ut think how convenient it is to be able to carry all my aintings in a cigar bo1+ &ther ainters have rooms and rooms to hold their canvases+' Cleo said. Cleo lived in her own suite of rooms with a little bath and kitchen at the back of her arents' section of the a artment, and Cleo's a artment was always rather dark since it had no e1 osure e1ce t to a tiny backyard overgrown with ailanthus trees that blocked out the light. Cleo always had the lights on, dim ones, which gave a nocturnal atmos here whatever the time of day. 41ce t for the night when he had met her, Tom had seen Cleo only in close(fitting velvet slacks of various colours and gaily stri ed silk shirts. They had taken to each other from the very first night, when Cleo had asked him to dinner at her a artment on the following evening. Cleo always asked him u to her a artment, and there was somehow never any thought that he might ask her out to dinner or the theatre or do any of the ordinary things that a young man was e1 ected to do with a girl. $he didn't e1 ect him to bring her flowers or books or candy when he came for dinner or cocktails, though Tom did bring her a little gift sometimes, because it leased her
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so. Cleo was the one erson he could tell that he was going to 4uro e and why. He did. Cleo was enthralled, as he had known she would be. Her red li s arted in her long, ale face, and she brought her hands down on her velvet thighs and e1claimed, 'Tommie+ How too, too marvellous+ .t's *ust like out of $hakes eare or something+' That was *ust what Tom thought, too. That was *ust what he had needed someone to say. Cleo fussed around him all evening, asking him if he had this and that, ;leene1es and cold tablets and woollen socks because it started raining in 4uro e in the fall, and his vaccinations. Tom said he felt retty well re ared. '5ust don't come to see me off, Cleo. . don't want to be seen off.' '&f course not+' Cleo said, understanding erfectly. '&h, Tommie, . think that's such fun+ )ill you write me everything that ha ens with 2ickie% 0ou're the only erson . know who ever went to 4uro e for a reason. ' He told her about visiting ,r Greenleaf's shi yards in 7ong .sland, the miles and miles of tables with machines making shiny metal arts, varnishing and olishing wood, the dry(docks with boat skeletons of all si/es, and im ressed her with the terms ,r Greenleaf had used(( coamings, inwales, keelsons, and chines. He described the second dinner at ,r Greenleaf's house, when ,r Greenleaf had resented him with a wrist(watch. He showed the wrist(watch to Cleo, not a fabulously e1 ensive wrist(watch, but still an e1cellent one and *ust the style Tom might have chosen for himself((a lain white face with fine black #oman numerals in a sim le gold setting with an alligator stra .,'5ust because . ha ened to say a few days before that . didn't own a watch,' Tom said. 'He's really ado ted me like a son.' !nd Cleo, too, was the only erson he knew to whom he could say that. Cleo sighed. ',en+ 0ou have all the luck. -othing like that could ever ha en to a girl. ,en're so free+' Tom smiled. .t often seemed to him that it was the other way around. '.s that the lamb cho s burning%' Cleo *um ed u with a shriek. !fter dinner, she showed him five or si1 of her latest aintings, a cou le of romantic ortraits of a young man they both knew, in an o en(collared white shirt, three imaginary landsca es of a *ungle(like land, derived from the view of ailanthus trees out her window. The hair
21
of the little monkeys in the aintings was really astoundingly well done, Tom thought. Cleo had a lot of brushes with *ust one hair in them, and even these varied from com aratively coarse to ultra fine. They drank nearly two bottles of ,edoc from her arents' liquor shelf, and Tom got so slee y he could have s ent the night right where he was lying on the floor (they had often sle t side by side on the two big bear rugs in front of the fire lace, and it was another of the wonderful things about Cleo that she never wanted or e1 ected him to make a ass at her, and he never had((but Tom hauled himself u at a quarter to twelve and took his leave. '. won't see you again, will .%' Cleo said de*ectedly at the door. '&h, . should be back in about si1 weeks,' Tom said, though he didn't think so at all. $uddenly he leaned forward and lanted a firm, brotherly kiss on her ivory cheek. '.'ll miss you, Cleo,' $he squee/ed his shoulder, the only hysical touch he could recall her ever having given him. '.'ll miss you,' she said. The ne1t day he took care of ,rs Greenleaf's commissions at 3rooks 3rothers, the do/en airs of black woollen socks and the bathrobe. ,rs Greenleaf had not suggested a colour for the bathrobe. $he would leave that u to him, she had said. Tom chose a dark maroon flannel with a navy(blue belt and la els. .t was not the best( looking robe of the lot, in Tom's o inion, but he felt it was e1actly what #ichard would have chosen, and that #ichard would be delighted with it. He ut the socks and the robe on the Greenleafs' charge account. He saw a heavy linen s ort shirt with wooden buttons that he liked very much, that would have been easy to ut on the Greenleafs' account, too, but he didn't. He bought it with his own money.
> TH4 morning of his sailing, the morning he had looked forward to with such buoyant e1citement, got off to a hideous start. Tom followed the steward to his cabin congratulating himself that his firmness with 3ob about not wanting to be seen off had taken effect, and had *ust
22
entered the room when a bloodcurdling whoo went u . ')here's all the cham agne, Tom% )e're waiting+' '3oy, is this a stinking room+ )hy don't you ask them for something decent%' 'Tommie, take me%' from 4d ,artin's girl friend, whom Tom couldn't bear to look at. There they all were, mostly 3ob's lousy friends, s rawled on his bed, on the floor, everywhere. 3ob had found out he was sailing, but Tom had never thought he would do a thing like this. .t took self(control for Tom not to say in an icy voice, 'There isn't any cham agne.' He tried to greet them all, tried to smile, though he could have burst into tears like a child. He gave 3ob a long, withering look, but 3ob was already high, on something. There were very few things that got under his skin, Tom thought self(*ustifyingly, but this was one of them8 noisy sur rises like this, the riffraff, the vulgarians, the slobs he had thought he had left behind when he crossed the gang lank, littering the very stateroom where he was to s end the ne1t five days+ Tom went over to 'aul Hubbard, the only res ectable erson in the room, and sat down beside him on the short, built(in sofa. 'Hello, 'aul,' he said quietly. '.'m sorry about all this.' '&h+' 'aul scoffed. 'How long'll you be gone%(()hat's the matter, Tom% !re you sick%' .t was awful. .t went on, the noise and the laughter and the girls feeling the bed and looking in the 5ohn. Thank God the Greenleafs hadn't come to see him off+ ,r Greenleaf had had to go to -ew &rleans on business, and ,rs Greenleaf, when Tom had called this morning to say good(bye, had said that she didn't feel quite u to coming down to the boat. "inally, 3ob or somebody roduced a bottle of whisky, and they all began to drink out of the two glasses from the bathroom, and then a steward came in with a tray of glasses. Tom refused to have a drink. He was sweating so heavily, he took off his *acket so as not to soil it. 3ob came over and rammed a glass in his hand, and 3ob was not e1actly *oking, Tom saw, and he knew why((because he had acce ted 3ob's hos itality for a month, and he might at least ut on a leasant face, but Tom could not ut on a leasant face any more than if his face had been made of granite. $o what if they all hated him after this, he thought, what had he lost% '. can fit in here, Tommie,' said the girl who was determined to fit
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in somewhere and go with him. $he had wedged herself sideways into a narrow closet about the si/e of a broom closet. '.'d like to see Tom caught with a girl in his room+' 4d ,artin said, laughing. Tom glared at him. '7et's get out of here and get some air,' he murmured to 'aul. The others were making so much noise, nobody noticed their leaving. They stood at the rail near the stern. .t was a sunless day, and the city on their right was already like some grey, distant land that he might be looking at from mid(ocean((e1ce t for those bastards inside his stateroom. ')here've you been kee ing yourself%' 'aul asked. '4d called u to tell me you were leaving. . haven't seen you in weeks.' 'aul was one of the eo le who thought he worked for the !ssociated 'ress. Tom made u a fine story about an assignment he had been sent on. 'ossibly the ,iddle 4ast, Tom said. He made it sound rather secret. '.'ve been doing quite a lot of night work lately, too,' Tom said, 'which is why . haven't been around much. .t's awfully nice of you to come down and see me off.' '. hadn't any classes this morning,' 'aul took the i e out of his mouth and smiled. '-ot that . wouldn't have come anyway, robably. !ny old e1cuse+' Tom smiled. 'aul taught music at a girls' school in -ew 0ork to earn his living, but he referred to com ose music on his own time. Tom could not remember how he had met 'aul, but he remembered going to his #iverside 2rive a artment for $unday brunch once with some other eo le, and 'aul had layed some of his own com ositions on the iano, and Tom had en*oyed it immensely. 'Can't . offer you a drink% 7et's see if we can find the bar,' Tom said. 3ut *ust then a steward came out, hitting a gong and shouting, '6isitors ashore, lease+ !ll visitors ashore+' 'That's me,' 'aul said. They shook hands, atted shoulders, romised to write ostcards to each other. Then 'aul was gone. 3ob's gang would stay till the last minute, he thought, robably have to be blasted out. Tom turned suddenly and ran u a narrow, ladder(like flight of stairs. !t the to of it he was confronted by a C!3.C7!$$ &-70 sign hanging from a chain, but he threw a leg over the chain and ste ed on to the deck. They surely wouldn't ob*ect to a
24
first(class assenger going into second(class, he thought. He couldn't bear to look at 3ob's gang again. He had aid 3ob half a month's rent and given him a good(bye resent of a good shirt and tie. )hat more did 3ob want% The shi was moving before Tom dared to go down to his room again. He went into the room cautiously. 4m ty. The neat blue bedcover was smooth again. The ashtrays were clean. There was no sign they had ever been here. Tom rela1ed and smiled. This was service+ The fine old tradition of the Cunard 7ine, 3ritish seamanshi and all that+ He saw a big basket of fruit on the floor by his bed. He sei/ed the little white envelo e eagerly. The card inside said8 3on voyage and bless you, Tom. !ll our good wishes go with you. 4mily and Herbert Greenleaf The basket had a tall handle and it was entirely under yellow cello hane((a les and ears and gra es and a cou le of candy bars and several little bottles of liqueurs. Tom had never received a bon voyage basket. To him, they had always been something you saw in florists' windows for fantastic rices and laughed at. -ow he found himself with tears in his eyes, and he ut his face down in his hands suddenly and began to sob.
@ His mood was tranquil and benevolent, but not at all sociable. He wanted his time for thinking, and he did not care to meet any of the eo le on the shi , not any of them, though when he encountered the eo le with whom he sat at his table, he greeted them leasantly and smiled. He began to lay a role on the shi , that of a serious young man with a serious *ob ahead of him. He was courteous, oised, civilised and reoccu ied. He had a sudden whim for a ca and bought one in the haberdashery, a conservative bluish(grey ca of soft 4nglish wool. He
25
could ull its visor down over nearly his whole face when he wanted to na in his deck(chair, or wanted to look as if he were na ing. ! ca was the most versatile of head(gears, he thought, and he wondered why he had never thought of wearing one before% He could look like a country gentleman, a thug, an 4nglishman, a "renchman, or a lain !merican eccentric, de ending on how he wore it. Tom amused himself with it in his room in front of the mirror. He had always thought he had the world's dullest face, a thoroughly forgettable face with a look of docility that he could not understand, and a look also of vague fright that he had never been able to erase. ! real conformist's face, he thought. The ca changed all that. .t gave him a country air, Greenwich, Connecticut, country. -ow he was a young man with a rivate income, not long out of 'rinceton, erha s. He bought a i e to go with the ca . He was starting a new life. Good(bye to all the second(rate eo le he had hung around and had let hang around him in the ast three years in -ew 0ork. He felt as he imagined immigrants felt when they left everything behind them in some foreign country, left their friends and relations and their ast mistakes, and sailed for !merica. ! clean slate+ )hatever ha ened with 2ickie, he would acquit himself well, and ,r Greenleaf would know that he had, and would res ect him for it. )hen ,r Greenleaf s money was used u , he might not come back to !merica. He might get an interesting *ob in a hotel, for instance, where they needed somebody bright and ersonable who s oke 4nglish. &r he might become a re resentative for some 4uro ean firm and travel everywhere in the world. &r somebody might come along who needed a young man e1actly like himself, who could drive a car, who was quick at figures, who could entertain an old grandmother or squire somebody's daughter to a dance. He was versatile, and the world was wide+ He swore to himself he would stick to a *ob once he got it. 'atience and erseverance+ < ward and onward+. 'Have you Henry 5ames's The !mbassador%' Tom asked the officer in charge of the first(class library. The book was not on the shelf. '.'m sorry, we haven't, sir,' said the officer. Tom was disa ointed. .t was the book ,r Greenleaf had asked him if he had read. Tom felt he ought to read it. He went to the cabin( class library. He found the book on the shelf, but when he started to
26
check it out and gave his cabin number, the attendant told him sorry, that first(class assengers were not allowed to take books from the cabin(class library. Tom had been afraid of that. He ut the book back docilely, though it would have been easy, so easy, to make a ass at the shelf and sli the book under his *acket. .n the mornings he strolled several times round the deck, but very slowly, so that the eo le uffing around on their morning constitutionals always assed him two or three times before he had been around once, then settled down in his deck(chair for bouillon and more thought on his own destiny. !fter lunch, he ottered around in his cabin, basking in its rivacy and comfort, doing absolutely nothing. $ometimes he sat in the writing(room, thoughtfully enning letters on the shi 's stationery to ,arc 'riminger, to Cleo, to the Greenleafs. The letter to the Green(leafs began as a olite greeting and a thank(you for the bon voyage basket and the comfortable accommodations, but he amused himself by adding an imaginary ostdated aragra h about finding 2ickie and living with him in his ,ongibello house, about the slow but steady rogress he was making in ersuading 2ickie to come home, about the swimming, the fishing, the cafe life, and he got so carried away that it went on for eight or ten ages and he knew he would never mail any of it, so he wrote on about 2ickie's not being romantically interested in ,arge Ahe gave a com lete character analysis of ,argeB so it was not ,arge who was holding 2ickie, though ,rs Greenleaf had thought it might be, etc., etc., until the table was covered with sheets of a er and the first call came for dinner. &n another afternoon, he wrote a olite note to !unt 2ottie8 2ear !untie Jwhich he rarely called her in a letter and never to her faceK, !s you see by the stationery, . am on the high seas. !n une1 ected business offer which . cannot e1 lain now. . had to leave rather suddenly, so . was not able to get u to 3oston and .'m sorry, because it may be months or even years before . come back. . *ust wanted you not to worry and not to send me any more cheques, thank you. Thank you very much for the last one of a month or so ago. . don't su ose you have sent any more since then. . am well and e1tremely ha y.
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7ove, Tom -o use sending any good wishes about her health. $he was as strong as an o1. He added8 '. $. . have no idea what my address will be, so . cannot give you any. That made him feel better, because it definitely cut him off from her. He needn't ever tell her where he was. -o more of the snidely digging letters, the sly com arisons of him to his father, the iddling cheques for the strange sums of si1 dollars and forty(eight cents and twelve dollars and ninety(five, as if she had had a bit left over from her latest bill( aying, or taken something back to a store and had tossed the money to him, like a crumb. Considering what !unt 2ottie might have sent him, with her income, the cheques were an insult. !unt 2ottie insisted that his u bringing had cost her more than his father had left in insurance, and maybe it had, but did she have to kee rubbing it in his face% 2id anybody human kee rubbing a thing like that in a child's face% 7ots of aunts and even strangers raised a child for nothing and were delighted to do it. !fter his letter to !unt 2ottie, he got u and strode around the deck, walking it off. )riting her always made him feel angry. He resented the courtesy to her. 0et until now he had always wanted her to know where he was, because he had always needed her iddling cheques. He had had to write a score of letters about his changes of address to !unt 2ottie. 3ut he didn't need her money now. He would hold himself inde endent of it, forever. He thought suddenly of one summer day when he had been about twelve, when he had been on a cross(country tri with !unt 2ottie and a woman friend of hers, and they had got stuck in a bum er(to(bum er traffic *am somewhere. .t had been a hot summer day, and !unt 2ottie had sent him out with the Thermos to get some ice water at a filling station, and suddenly the traffic had started moving. He remembered running between huge, inching cars, always about to touch the door of !unt 2ottie's car and never being quite able to, because she had ke t inching along as fast as she could go, not willing to wait for him a minute, and yelling, 'Come on, come on, slow oke+' out the window all the time. )hen he had finally made it to the car and got in, with tears of frustration and anger running down his cheeks, she had said gaily to her friend, '$issy+ He's a sissy from the ground u . 5ust like his father+' .t was a wonder he had emerged from
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such treatment as well as he had. !nd *ust what, he wondered, made !unt 2ottie think his father had been a sissy% Could she, had she, ever cited a single thing% -o. 7ying in his deck(chair, fortified morally by the lu1urious surroundings and inwardly by the abundance of well( re ared food, he tried to take an ob*ective look at his ast life. The last four years had been for the most art a waste, there was no denying that. ! series of ha ha/ard *obs, long erilous intervals with no *ob at all and consequent demoralisation because of having no money, and then taking u with stu id, silly eo le in order not to be lonely, or because they could offer him something for a while, as ,arc 'riminger had. .t was not a record to be roud of, considering he had come to -ew 0ork with such high as irations. He had wanted to be an actor, though at twenty he had not had the faintest idea of the difficulties, the necessary training, or even the necessary talent. He had thought he had the necessary talent and that all he would have to do was show a roducer a few of his original one(man skits((,rs #oosevelt writing ',y 2ay' after a visit to a clinic for unmarried mothers for instance((but his first three rebuffs had killed all his courage and his ho e. He had had no reserve of money, so he had taken the *ob on the banana boat, which at least had removed him from -ew 0ork. He had been afraid that !unt 2ottie had called the olice to look for him in -ew 0ork, though he hadn't done anything wrong in 3oston, *ust run off to make his own way in the world as millions of young man had done before him. His main mistake had been that he had never stuck to anything, he thought, like the accounting *ob in the de artment store that might have worked into something, if he had not been so com letely discouraged by the slowness of de artment(store romotions. )ell, he blamed !unt 2ottie to some e1tent for his lack of erseverance, never giving him credit when he was younger for anything he had stuck to(( like his a er route when he was thirteen. He had won a silver medal from the news a er for 'Courtesy, $ervice, and #eliability'. .t was like looking back at another erson to remember himself then, a skinny, snivelling wretch with an eternal cold in the nose, who had still managed to win a medal for courtesy, service, and reliability. !unt 2ottie had hated him when he had a cold: she used to take her handkerchief and nearly wrench his nose off, wi ing it. Tom writhed in his deck(chair as he thought of it, but he writhed
29
elegantly, ad*usting the crease of his trousers. He remembered the vows he had made, even at the age of eight, to run away from !unt 2ottie, the violent scenes he had imagined((!unt 2ottie trying to hold him in the house, and he hitting her with his fists, flinging her to the ground and throttling her, and finally tearing the big brooch off her dress and stabbing her a million times in the throat with it. He had run away at seventeen and had been brought back, and he had done it again at twenty and succeeded. !nd it was astounding and itiful how naive he had been, how little he had known about the way the world worked, as if he had s ent so much of his time hating !unt 2ottie and scheming how to esca e her, that he had not had enough time to learn and grow. He remembered the way he had felt when he had been fired from the warehouse *ob during his first month in -ew 0ork. He had held the *ob less than two weeks, because he hadn't been strong enough to lift orange crates eight hours a day, but he had done his best and knocked himself out trying to hold the *ob, and when they had fired him, he remembered how horribly un*ust he had thought it. He remembered deciding then that the world was full of $imon 7egrees, and that you had to be an animal, as tough as the gorillas who worked with him at the warehouse, or starve. He remembered that right after that, he had stolen a loaf of bread from a delicatessen counter and had taken it home and devoured it, feeling that the world owed a loaf of bread to him, and more. ',r #i ley%' &ne of the 4nglishwomen who had sat on the sofa with him in the lounge the other day during tea was bending over him. ')e were wondering if you'd care to *oin us in a rubber of bridge in the game(room% )e're going to start in about fifteen minutes.' Tom sat u olitely in his chair. 'Thank you very much, but . think . refer to stay outside. 3esides, .'m not too good at bridge.' '&h, neither are we+ !ll right, another time.' $he smiled and went away. Tom sank back in his chair again, ulled his ca down over his eyes and folded his hands over his waist. His aloofness, he knew, was causing a little comment among the assengers. He had not danced with cither of the silly girls who ke t looking at him ho efully and giggling during the after(dinner dancing every night. He imagined the s eculations of the assengers8 .s he an !merican+ . think so, but he doesn't act like an !merican, does he% ,ost !mericans are so noisy.
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He's terribly serious, isn't he, and he can't be more than twenty(three. He must have something very im ortant on his mind. 0es, he had. The resent and the future of Tom #i ley.
D '!#.$ was no more than a glim se out of a railroad station window of a lighted cafe front, com lete with rain(streaked awning, sidewalk tables, and bo1es of hedges, like a tourist oster illustration, and otherwise a series of long station latforms down which he followed dum y little blue(clad orters with his luggage, and at last the slee er that would take him all the way to #ome. He could come back to 'aris at some other time, he thought. He was eager to get to ,ongibello. )hen he woke u the ne1t morning, he was in .taly. $omething very leasant ha ened that morning. Tom was watching the landsca e out of the window, when he heard some .talians in the corridor outside his com artment say something with the word ''isa' in it. ! city was gliding by on the other side of the train. Tom went into the corridor to get a better look at it, looking automatically for the 7eaning Tower, though he was not at all sure that the city was 'isa or that the tower would even be visible from here, but there it was+((a thick white column, sticking u out of the low chalky houses that formed the rest of the town, and leaning, leaning at an angle that he wouldn't have thought ossible+ He had always taken it for granted that the leaning of the 7eaning Tower of 'isa was e1aggerated. .t seemed to him a good omen, a sign that .taly was going to be everything that he e1 ected, and that everything would go well with him and 2ickie. He arrived in -a les late that afternoon, and there was no bus to ,ongibello until tomorrow morning at eleven. ! boy of about si1teen in dirty shirt and trousers and G. .. shoes latched on to him at the railroad station when he was changing some money, offering him God knew what, maybe girls, maybe do e, and in s ite of Tom's rotestations actually got into the ta1i with him and instructed the driver where to go, *abbering on and holding a finger u as if he was going to fi1 him
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u fine, wait and see. Tom gave u and sulked in a corner with his arms folded, and finally the ta1i sto ed in front of a big hotel that faced the bay, Tom would have been afraid of the im osing hotel if ,r Greenleaf had not been aying the bill. '$anta 7ucia+' the boy said trium hantly, ointing seaward. Tom nodded. !fter all, the boy seemed to mean well. Tom aid the driver and gave the boy a hundred(lire bill, which he estimated to be si1teen and a fraction cents and a ro riate as a ti in .taly, according to an article on .taly he had read on the shi , and when the boy looked outraged, gave him another hundred, and when he still looked outraged, waved a hand at him and went into the hotel behind the bellboys who had already gathered u his luggage. Tom had dinner that evening at a restaurant down on the water called Li' Teresa, which had been recommended to him by the 4nglish( s eaking manager of the hotel. He had a difficult time ordering, and he found himself with a first course of miniature octo uses, as virulently ur le as if they had been cooked in the ink in which the menu had been written. He tasted the ti of one tentacle, and it had a disgusting consistency like cartilage. The second course was also a mistake, a latter of fried fish of various kinds. The third course((which he had been sure was a kind of dessert((was a cou le of small reddish fish. !h, -a les+ The food didn't matter. He was feeling mellow on the wine. "ar over on his left, a three(quarter moon drifted above the *agged hum of ,ount 6esuvius. Tom ga/ed at it calmly, as if he had seen it a thousand times before. !round the corner of land there, beyond 6esuvius, lay #ichard's village. He boarded the bus the ne1t morning at eleven. The road followed the shore and went through little towns where they made brief sto s((Torre del Greco, Torre !nnunciata, Castel(lammare, $orrento. Tom listened eagerly to the names of the towns that the driver called out. "rom $orrento, the road was a narrow ridge cut into the side of the rock cliffs that Tom had seen in the hotogra hs at the Greenleafs'. -ow and then he caught glim ses of little villages down at the water's edge, houses like white crumbs of bread, s ecks that were the heads of eo le swimming near the shore. Tom saw a boulder(si/ed rock in the middle of the road that had evidently broke off a cliff. The driver dodged it with a nonchalant swerve. ',ongtbello+'
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Tom s rang u and yanked his suitcase down from the rack. He had another suitcase on the roof, which the bus boy took down for him. Then the bus went on, and Tom was alone at the side of the road, his suitcases at his feet. There were houses above him, straggling u the mountain, and houses below, their tile roofs silhouetted against the blue sea. ;ee ing an eye on his suitcases, Tom went into a little house across the road marked '&$T!, and inquired of the man behind the window where #ichard Greenleaf's house was. )ithout thinking, he s oke in 4nglish, but the man seemed to understand, because he came out and ointed from the door u the road Tom had come on the bus, and gave in .talian what seemed to be e1 licit directions how to get there. '$em re seeneestra, seeneestra+' Tom thanked him, and asked if he could leave his two suitcases in the ost office for a while, and the man seemed to understand this, too, and hel ed Tom carry them into the ost office. He had to ask two more eo le where #ichard Greenleaf's house was, but everybody seemed to know it, and the third erson was able to oint it out to him (a large two(storey house with an iron gate on the road, and a terrace that ro*ected over the cliff's edge. Tom rang the metal bell beside the gate. !n .talian woman came out of the house, wi ing her hands on her a ron. ',r Greenleaf%' Tom asked ho efully. The woman gave him a long, smiling answer in .talian and ointed downward toward the sea. '5ew,' she seemed to kee saying. '5ew.' Tom nodded. 'Gra/ie.' $hould he go down to the beach as he was, or be more casual about it and get into a bathing suit% &r should he wait until the tea or cocktail hour% &r should he try to tele hone him first% He hadn't brought a bathing suit with him, and he'd certainly have to have one here. Tom went into one of the little sho s near the ost office that had shirts and bathing shorts in its tiny front window, and after trying on several airs of shorts that did not fit him, or at least not adequately enough to serve as a bathing suit, he bought a black(and(yellow thing hardly bigger than a G(string. He made a neat bundle of his clothing inside his raincoat, and started out of the door barefoot. He lea t back inside. The cobblestones were hot as coals. '$hoes% $andals%' he asked the man in the sho .
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The man didn't sell shoes. Tom ut on his own shoes again and walked across the road to the ost office, intending to leave his clothes with his suitcases, but the ost office door was locked. He had heard of this in 4uro e, laces closing from noon to four sometimes. He turned and walked down a cobbled lane which he su osed led toward the beach. He went down a do/en stee stone ste s, down another cobbled slo e ast sho s and houses, down more ste s, and finally he came to a level length of broad sidewalk slightly raised from the beach, where there were a cou le of cafes and a restaurant with outdoor tables. $ome bron/ed adolescent .talian boys sitting on wooden benches at the edge of the avement ins ected him thoroughly as he walked by. He felt mortified at the big brown shoes on his feet and at his ghost(white skin. He had not been to a beach all summer. He hated beaches. There was a wooden walk that led half across the beach, which Tom knew must be hot as hell to walk on, because everybody was lying on a towel or something else, but he took his shoes off anyway and stood for a moment on the hot wood, calmly surveying the grou s of eo le near him. -one of the eo le looked like #ichard, and the shimmering heat waves ke t him from making out the eo le very far away. Tom ut one foot out on the sand and drew it back. Then he took a dee breath, raced down the rest of the walk, s rinted across the sand, and sank his feet into the blissfully cool inches of water at the sea's edge. He began to walk. Tom saw him from a distance of about a block((unmistakably 2ickie, though he was burnt a dark brown and his crinkly blond hair looked lighter than Tom remembered it. He was with ,arge. '2ickie Greenleaf%' Tom asked, smiling. 2ickie looked u . '0es%' '.'m Tom #i ley. . met you in the $tates several years ago. #emember%' 2ickie looked blank. '. think your father said he was going to write you about me.' '&h, yes+' 2ickie said, touching his forehead as if it was stu id of him to have forgotten... He stood u . 'Tom what is it%' '#i ley.' 'This is ,arge $herwood,' he said. ',arge, Tom #i ley.' 'How do you do%' Tom said. 'How do you do%'
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'How long are you here for%' 2ickie asked. '. don't know yet,' Tom said. '. *ust got here. .'ll have to look the lace over.' 2ickie was looking him over, not entirely with a roval, Tom felt. 2ickie's arms were folded, his lean brown feet lanted in the hot sand that didn't seem to bother him at all. Tom had crushed his feet into his shoes again. 'Taking a house%' asked 2ickie. '. don't know,' Tom said undecidedly, as if he had been considering it. '.t's a good time to get a house, if you're looking for one for the winter,' the girl said. 'The summer tourists have ractically all gone. )e could use a few more !mericans around here in winter.' 2ickie said nothing. He had reseated himself on the big towel beside the girl, and Tom felt that he was waiting for him to say good( bye and move on. Tom stood there, feeling ale and naked as the day he was born. He hated bathing suits. This one was very revealing. Tom managed to e1tract his ack of cigarettes from his *acket inside his raincoat, and offered it to 2ickie and the girl. 2ickie acce ted one, and Tom lighted it with his lighter. '0ou don't seem to remember me from -ew 0ork,' Tom said. '. can't really say . do,' 2ickie said. ')here did . meet you%' '. think(()asn't it at 3uddy 7ankenau's%' .t wasn't, but he knew 2ickie knew 3uddy 7ankenau, and 3uddy was a very res ectable fellow. '&h,' said 2ickie, vaguely. '. ho e you'll e1cuse me. ,y memory's rotten for !merica these days.' '.t certainly is,' ,arge said, coming to Tom's rescue. '.t's getting worse and worse. )hen did you get here, Tom%' '5ust about an hour ago. .'ve *ust arked my suitcases at the ost office.' He laughed. '2on't you want to sit down% Here's another towel.' $he s read a smaller white towel beside her on the sand. Tom acce ted it gratefully. Tm going in for a di to cool off,' 2ickie said, getting u . ',e too+' ,arge said. 'Coming in, Tom%' Tom followed them. 2ickie and the girl went out quite far((both seemed to be e1cellent swimmers((and Tom stayed near the shore and came in much sooner. )hen 2ickie and the girl came back to the
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towels, 2ickie said, as if he had been rom ted by the girl, ')e're leaving. )ould you like to come u to the house and have lunch with us%' ')hy, yes. Thanks very much.' Tom hel ed them gather u the towels, the sunglasses, the .talian news a ers. Tom thought they would never get there. 2ickie and ,arge went in front of him, taking the endless flights of stone ste s slowly and steadily, two at a time. The sun had enervated Tom. The muscles of his legs trembled on the level stretches. His shoulders were already ink, and he had ut on his shirt against the sun's rays, but he could feel the sun burning through his hair, making him di//y and nauseous. 'Having a hard time%' ,arge asked, not out of breath at all. '0ou'll get used to it, if you stay here. 0ou should have seen this lace during the heat wave in 5uly.' Tom hadn't breath to re ly anything. "ifteen minutes later he was feeling better. He had had a cool shower, and he was sitting in a comfortable wicker chair on 2ickie's terrace with a martini in his hand. !t ,arge's suggestion, he had ut his swimming outfit on again, with his shirt over it. The table on the terrace had been set for three while he was in the shower, and ,arge was in the kitchen now, talking in .talian to the maid. Tom wondered if ,arge lived here. The house was certainly big enough. .t was s arsely furnished, as far as Tom could see, in a leasant mi1ture oMN .talian antique and !merican bohemian. He had seen two original 'icasso drawings in the hall. ,arge came out on the terrace with her martini. 'That's my house over there.' $he ointed. '$ee it% The square(looking white one with the darker red roof than the houses *ust beside it.' .t was ho eless to ick it out from the other houses, but Tom retended he saw it. 'Have you been here long%' '! year. !ll last winter, and it was quite a winter. #ain every day e1ce t one for three whole months+' '#eally+' '<m(hm.' ,arge si ed her martini and ga/ed out contentedly at her little village. $he was back in her bathing suit, too, a tomato( coloured bathing suit, and she wore a stri ed shirt over it. $he wasn't bad(looking, Tom su osed, and she even had a good figure, if one liked the rather solid ty e. Tom didn't, himself. '. understand 2ickie has a boat,' Tom said.
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'0es, the 'i i. $hort for 'i istrello. )ant to see it% $he ointed at another indescernible something down at the little ier that they could see from the corner of the terrace. The boats looked very much alike, but ,arge said 2ickie's boat was larger than most of them and had two masts. 2ickie came out and oured himself a cocktail from the itcher on the table. He wore badly ironed white duck trousers and a terra cotta linen shirt the colour of his skin. '$orry there's no ice. . haven't got a refrigerator.' Tom smiled. '. brought a bathrobe for you. 0our mother said you'd asked for one. !lso some socks.' '2o you know my mother%' '. ha ened to meet your father *ust before . felt -ew 0ork, and he asked me to dinner at his house.' '&h% How was my mother%' '$he was u and around that evening. .'d say she gets tired easily.' 2ickie nodded. '. had a letter this week saying she was a little better. !t least there's no articular crisis right now, is there%' '. don't think so. . think your father was more worried a few weeks ago.' Tom hesitated. 'He's also a little worried because you won't come home.' 'Herbert's always worried about something,' 2ickie said. ,arge and the maid came out of the kitchen carrying a steaming latter of s aghetti, a big bowl of salad, and a late of bread. 2ickie and ,arge began to talk about the enlargement of some restaurant down on the beach. The ro rietor was widening the terrace so there would be room for eo le to dance. They discussed it in detail, slowly, like eo le in a small town who take an interest in the most minute changes in the neighbourhood. There was nothing Tom could contribute. He s ent the time e1amining 2ickie's rings. He liked them both8 a large rectangular green stone set in gold on the third finger of his right hand, and on the little finger of the other hand a signet ring, larger and more ornate than the signet ,r Greenleaf had worn. 2ickie had long, bony hands, a little like his own hands, Tom thought. '3y the way, your father showed me around the 3urke(Greenleaf yards before . left,' Tom said. 'He told me he'd made a lot of changes since you've seen it last. . was quite im ressed.'
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'. su ose he offered you a *ob, too. !lways on the lookout for romising young men.' 2ickie turned his fork round and round, and thrust a neat mass of s aghetti into his month. '-o, he didn't.' Tom felt the luncheon couldn't have been going worse. Had ,r Greenleaf told 2ickie that he was coming to give him a lecture on why he should go home% &r was 2ickie *ust in a foul mood% 2ickie had certainly changed since Tom had seen him last. 2ickie brought out a shiny es resso machine about two feet high, and lugged it into an outlet on the terrace. .n a few moments there were four little cu s of coffee, one of which ,arge took into the kitchen to the maid. ')hat hotel are you staying at%' ,arge asked Tom. Tom smiled. '. haven't found one yet. )hat do you recommend%' The ,iramare's the best. .t's *ust this side of Giorgio's. The only other hotel is Georgio's, but (' 'They say Georgio's got ulci in his beds,' 2ickie interru ted. 'That's fleas. Giorgio's is chea ,' ,arge said earnestly, 'but the service is (' '-on(e1istent,' 2ickie su lied. '0ou're in a fine mood today, aren't you%' ,arge said to 2ickie, flicking a crumb of gorgon/ola at him. '.n that case, .'ll try the ,iramare,' Tom said, standing u . '. must be going.' -either of them urged him to stay. 2ickie walked with him to the front gate. ,arge was staying on. Tom wondered if 2ickie and ,arge were having an affair, one of those old, faute de mieu1 affairs that wouldn't necessarily be obvious from the outside, because neither was very enthusiastic. ,arge was in love with 2ickie, Tom thought, but 2ickie couldn't have been more indifferent to her if she had been the fifty(year(old .talian maid sitting there. '.'d like to see some of your aintings sometimes,' Tom said to 2ickie. '"ine. )ell, . su ose we'll see you again if you're around,' and Tom thought he added it only because he remembered that he had brought him the bathrobe and the socks. '. en*oyed the lunch. Good(bye, 2ickie.' The iron gate clanged.
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E T&, took a room at the ,iramare. .t was four o'clock by the time he got his suitcases u from the ost office, and he had barely the energy to hang u his best suit before he fell down on the bed. The voices of some .talian boys who were talking under his window drifted u as distinctly as if they had been in the room with him, and the insolent, cackling laugh of one of them, bursting again and again through the attering syllables, made Tom twitch and writhe. He imagined them discussing his e1 edition to $ignor Greenleaf, and making unflattering s eculations as to what might ha en ne1t. )hat was he doing here% He had no friends here and he didn't s eak the language. $u ose he got sick% )ho would take care of him% Tom got u , knowing he was going to be sick, yet moving slowly because he knew *ust when he was going to be sick and that there would be time for him to get to the bathroom. .n the bathroom he lost his lunch, and also the fish from -a les, he thought. He went back to his bed and fell instantly aslee . )hen he awoke groggy and weak, the sun was still shining and it was five(thirty by his new watch. He went to a window and looked out, looking automatically for 2ickie's big house and ro*ecting terrace among the ink and white houses that dotted the climbing ground in front of him. He found the sturdy reddish balustrade of the terrace. )as ,arge still there% )ere they talking about him% He heard a laugh rising over the little din of street noises, tense and resonant, and as !merican as if it had been a sentence in !merican. "or an instant he saw 2ickie and ,arge as they crossed a s ace between houses on the main road. They turned a corner, and Tom went to his side window for a better view. There was an alley by the side of the hotel *ust below his window, and 2ickie and ,arge came down it, 2ickie in his white trousers and terra cotta shirt, ,arge in a skirt and blouse. $he must have gone home, Tom thought. &r else she had clothes at 2ickie's house. 2ickie talked with an .talian on the little wooden ier, gave him some money, and the .talian touched his ca , then untied the boat from the ier. Tom watched 2ickie hel ,arge into the boat. The white
39
sail began to climb. 3ehind them, to the left, the orange sun was sinking into the water. Tom could hear ,arge's laugh, and a shout from 2ickie in .talian toward the ier. Tom realised he was seeing them on a ty ical day((a siesta after the late lunch, robably, then the sail in 2ickie's boat at sundown. Then a GHritifs at one of the cafes on the beach. They were en*oying a erfectly ordinary day, as if he did not e1ist. )hy should 2ickie want to come back to subways and ta1is and starched collars and a nine(to( five *ob% &r even a chauffeured car and vacations in "lorida and ,aine% .t wasn't as much fun as sailing a boat in old clothes and being answerable to nobody for the way he s ent his time, and having his own house with a good(natured maid who robably took care of everything for him. !nd money besides, to take tri s if he wanted to. Tom envied him with a heartbreaking surge of envy and self( ity. 2ickie's father had robably said in his letter the very things that would set 2ickie against him, Tom thought. How much better it would have been if he had *ust sat down in one of the cafes down at the beach and struck u an acquaintance with 2ickie out of the blue+ He robably could have ersuaded 2ickie to come home eventually, if he had begun like that, but this way it was useless. Tom cursed himself for having been so heavy(handed and so humourless today. -othing he took des erately seriously ever worked out. He'd found that out years ago. He'd let a few days go by, he thought. The first ste , anyway, was to make 2ickie like him. That he wanted more than anything else in the world.
O Tom let three days go by. Then he went down to the beach on the fourth morning around noon, and found 2ickie alone, in the same s ot Tom had seen him first, in front of the grey rocks that e1tended across the beach from the land. ',orning+' Tom called. ')here's ,arge%'
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'Good morning. $he's robably working a little late. $he'll be down.' ')orking%' '$he's a writer.' '&h.' 2ickie uffed on the .talian cigarette in the corner of his mouth. ')here've you been kee ing yourself% . thought you'd gone.' '$ick,' Tom said casually, tossing his rolled towel down on the sand, but not too near 2ickie's towel. '&h, the usual u set stomach%' 'Hovering between life and the bathroom,' Tom said, smiling. '3ut .'m all right now.' He actually had been too weak even to leave the hotel, but he had crawled around on the floor of his room, following the atches of sunlight that came through his windows, so that he wouldn't look so white the ne1t time he came down to the beach. !nd he had s ent the remainder of his feeble strength studying an .talian conversation book that he had bought in the hotel lobby. Tom went down to the water, went confidently u to his waist and sto ed there, s lashing the water over his shoulders. He lowered himself until the water reached his chin, floated around a little, then came slowly in. 'Can . invite you for a drink at the hotel before you go u to your house%' Tom asked 2ickie. '!nd ,arge, too, if she comes. . wanted to give you your bathrobe and socks, you know.' '&h yes. Thanks very much. .'d like to have a drink.' He went back to his .talian news a er. Tom stretched out on his towel. He heard the village clock strike one. '2oesn't look as if ,arge is coming down,' 2ickie said. '. think .'ll be going along.' Tom got u . They walked u to the ,iramare, saying ractically nothing to each other, e1ce t that Tom invited 2ickie to lunch with him, and 2ickie declined because the maid had his lunch ready at the house, he said. They went u to Tom's room, and 2ickie tried the bathrobe on and held the socks u to his bare feet. 3oth the bathrobe and the socks were the right si/e, and, as Tom had antici ated, 2ickie was e1tremely leased with the bathrobe. '!nd this,' Tom said, taking a square ackage wra ed in drugstore a er from a bureau drawer. '0our mother sent you some
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nose(dro s, too.' 2ickie smiled. '. don't need them any more. That was sinus. 3ut .'ll take them off your hands.' -ow 2ickie had everything, Tom thought, everything he had to offer. He was going to refuse the invitation for a drink, too, Tom knew. Tom followed him toward the door. '0ou know, your father's very concerned about your coming home. He asked me to give you a good talking to, which of course . won't, but .'ll still have to tell him something. . romised to write him.' 2ickie turned with his hand on the doorknob. '. don't know what my father thinks .'m doing over here((drinking myself to death or what. .'ll robably fly home this winter for a few days, but . don't intend to stay over there. .'m ha ier here. .f . went back there to live, my father would be after me to work in 3urke(Greenleaf. . couldn't ossibly aint. . ha en to like ainting, and . think it's my business how . s end my life.' '. understand. 3ut he said he wouldn't try to make you work in his firm if you come back, unless you wanted to work in the designing de artment, and he said you liked that.' ')ell((my father and . have been over that. Thanks, anyway, Tom, for delivering the message and the clothes. .t was very nice of you.' 2ickie held out his hand. Tom couldn't have made himself take the hand. This was the very edge of failure, failure as far as ,r Greenleaf was concerned, and failure with 2ickie. '. think . ought to tell you something else,' Tom said with a smile. '0our father sent me over here es ecially to ask you to come home.' ')hat do you mean%' 2ickie frowned. ''aid your way%' '0es.' .t was his one last chance to amuse 2ickie or to re el him, to make 2ickie burst out laughing or go out and slam the door in disgust. 3ut the smile was coming, the long corners of his mouth going u , the way Tom remembered 2ickie's smile. ''aid your way+ )hat do you know+ He's getting des erate, isn't he%' 2ickie closed the door again. 'He a roached me in a bar in -ew 0ork,' Tom said. '. told him . wasn't a close friend of yours, but he insisted . could hel if . came over. . told him .'d try.' 'How did he ever meet you%' 'Through the $chrievers. . hardly know the $chrievers, but there it
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was+ . was your friend and . could do you a lot of good.' They laughed. '. don't want you to think .'m someone who tried to take advantage of your father,' Tom said. '. e1 ect to find a *ob somewhere in 4uro e soon, and .'ll be able to ay him back my assage money eventually. He bought me a round(tri ticket.' '&h, don't bother+ .t goes on the 3urke(Greenleaf e1 ense list. . can *ust see 2ad a roaching you in a bar+ )hicb bar was it%' ';abul's. ,atter of fact, he followed me from the Green Cage.' Tom watched 2ickie's face for a sign of recognition of the Green Cage, a very o ular bar, but there was no recognition. They had a drink downstairs in the hotel bar. They drank to Herbert #ichard Greenleaf. '. *ust realised today's $unday,' 2ickie said. ',arge went to church. 0ou'd better come u and have lunch with us. )e always have chicken on $unday. 0ou know it's an old !merican custom, chicken on $unday.' 2ickie wanted to go by ,arge's house to see if she was still there. They climbed some ste s from the main road u the side of a stone wall, crossed art of somebody's garden, and climbed more ste s. ,arge's house was a rather slo y(looking one(storey affair with a messy garden at one end, a cou le of buckets and a garden hose cluttering the ath to the door, and the feminine touch re resented by her tomato(coloured bathing suit and a bra hanging over a window(sill. Through an o en window, Tom had a glim se of a disorderly table with a ty ewriter on it. 'Hi+' she said, o ening the door. 'Hello, Tom+ )here've you been all this time%' $he offered them a drink, but discovered there was only half an inch of gin in her bottle of Gilbey's. '.t doesn't matter, we're going to my house,' 2ickie said. He strolled around ,arge's bedroom(living(room with an air of familiarity, as if he lived half the time here himself. He bent over a flower ot in which a tiny lant of some sort was growing, and touched its leaf delicately with his forefinger. 'Tom has something funny to tell you,' he said. 'Tell her, Tom.' Tom took a breath and began. He made it very funny and ,arge laughed like someone who hadn't had anything funny to laugh at in years. ')hen . saw him coming in #aoul's after me, . was ready to climb
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out of a back window+' His tongue rattled on almost inde endently of his brain. His brain was estimating how high his stock was shooting u with 2ickie and ,arge. He could see it in their faces. The climb u the hill to 2ickie's house didn't seem half so long as before. 2elicious smells of roasting chicken drifted out on the terrace. 2ickie made some martinis. Tom showered and then 2ickie showered, and came out and oured himself a drink, *ust like the first time, but the atmos here now was totally changed. 2ickie sat down in a wicker chair and swung his legs over one of the arms. 'Tell me more,' he said, smiling. ')hat kind of work do you do% 0ou said you might take a *ob.' ')hy% 2o you have a *ob for me%' 'Can't say that . have.' '&h, . can do a number of things((valeting, baby(sitting, accounting((.'ve got an unfortunate talent for figures. -o matter how drunk . get, . can always tell when a waiter's cheating me on a bill. . can forge a signature, fly a helico ter, handle dice, im ersonate ractically anybody, cook((and do a one(man show in a nightclub in case the regular entertainer's sick. $hall . go on%' Tom was leaning forward, counting them off on his fingers. He could have gone on. ')hat kind of a one(man show%' 2ickie asked. ')ell (' Tom s rang u . 'This for e1am le.' He struck a ose with one hand on his hi , one foot e1tended. 'This is 7ady !ssburden sam ling the !merican subway. $he's never even been in the underground in 7ondon, but she wants to take back some !merican e1 eriences.' Tom did it all in antomime, searching for a coin, finding it didn't go into the slot, buying a token, u//ling over which stairs to go down, registering alarm at the noise and the long e1 ress ride, u//ling again as to how to get out of the lace((here ,arge came out, and 2ickie told her it was an 4nglishwoman in the subway, but ,arge didn't seem to get it and asked, ')hat%'((walking through a door which could only be the door of theF men's room from her twitching horror of this and that, which augmented until she fainted. Tom fainted gracefully on to the terrace glider. ')onderful+' 2ickie yelled, cla ing. ,arge wasn't laughing. $he stood there looking a little blank. -either of them bothered to e1 lain it to her. $he didn't look as if she had that kind of sense of humour, anyway, Tom thought. Tom took a gul of his martini, terribly leased with himself. '.'ll do
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another for you sometime,' he said to ,arge, but mostly to indicate to 2ickie that he had another one to do. '2inner ready%' 2ickie asked her. '.'m starving.' '.'m waiting for the darned artichokes to get done. 0ou know that front hole. .t'll barely make anything come to a boil.' $he smiled at Tom. '2ickie's very old(fashioned about some things, Tom, the things he doesn't have to fool with. There's still only a wood stove here, and he refuses to buy a refrigerator or even an icebo1.' '&ne of the reasons . fled !merica,' 2ickie said. 'Those things are a waste of money in a country with so many servants. )hat'd 4rmelinda do with herself, if she could cook a meal in half an hour%' He stood u . 'Come on in, Tom, .'ll show you some of my aintings.' 2ickie led the way into the big room Tom had looked into a cou le of times on his way to and from the shower, the room with a long couch under the two windows and the big easel in the middle of the floor. 'This is one of ,arge .'m working on now.' He gestured to the icture on the easel. '&h,' Tom said with interest. .t wasn't good in his o inion, robably in anybody's o inion. The wild enthusiasm of her smile was a bit off. Her skin was as red as an .ndian's. .f ,arge hadn't been the only girl around with blonde hair, he wouldn't have noticed any resemblance at all. '!nd these((a lot of landsca es,' 2ickie said with a de recatory laugh, though obviously he wanted Tom to say something com limentary about them, because obviously he was roud of them. They were all wild and hasty and monotonously similar. The combination of terra cotta and electric blue was in nearly every one, terra cotta roofs and mountains and bright electric(blue seas. .t was the blue he had ut in ,arge's eyes, too. ',y surrealist effort,' 2ickie said, bracing another canvas against his knee. Tom winced with almost a ersonal shame. .t was ,arge again, undoubtedly, though with long snakelike hair, and worst of all two hori/ons in her eyes, with a miniature landsca e of ,ongibcllo's houses and mountains in one eye, and the beach in the other full of little red eo le. '0es, . like that,' Tom said. ,r Greenleaf had been right. 0et it gave 2ickie something to do, ke t him out of trouble, Tom su osed, *ust as it gave thousands of lousy amateur ainters all over !merica something to do. He was only sorry that 2ickie fell into this category as
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a ainter, because he wanted 2ickie to be much more. '. won't ever set the world on fire as a ainter,' 2ickie said, 'but . get a great deal of leasure out of it.' '0es,' Tom wanted to forget all about the aintings and forget that 2ickie ainted. 'Can . see the rest of the house%' '!bsolutely+ 0ou haven't seen the salon, have you%' 2ickie o ened a door in the hall that led into a very large room with a fire lace, sofas, bookshelves, and three e1 osures((to the terrace, to the land on the other side of the house, and to the front garden. 2ickie said that in summer he did not use the room, because he liked to save it as a change of scene for the winter. .t was more of a bookish den than a living(room, Tom thought. .t sur rised him. He had 2ickie figured out as a young man who was not articularly brainy, and who robably s ent most of his time laying. 'erha s he was wrong. 3ut he didn't think he was wrong in feeling that 2ickie was bored at the moment and needed someone to show him how to have fun. ')hat's u stairs%' Tom asked. The 'u stairs was disa ointing8 2ickie's bedroom in the corner of the house above the terrace was stark and em ty((a bed, a chest of drawers, and a rocking chair, looking lost and unrelated in all the s ace((a narrow bed, too, hardly wider than a single bed. The other three rooms of the second floor were not even furnished, or at least not com letely. &ne of them held only firewood and a ile of canvas scra s. There was certainly no sign of ,arge anywhere, least of all in 2ickie's bedroom. 'How about going to -a les with me sometime%' Tom asked. '. didn't have much of a chance to see it on my way down.' '!ll right,' 2ickie said. ',arge and . are going $aturday afternoon. )e have dinner there nearly every $aturday night and treat ourselves to a ta1i or a carro//a ride back. Come along.' '. mean in the daytime or some weekday so . could see a little more,' Tom said, ho ing to avoid ,arge in the e1cursion. '&r do you aint all day%' '-o. There's a twelve o'clock bus ,ondays, )ednesdays, and "ridays. . su ose we could go tomorrow, if you feel like it.' '"ine,' Tom said, though he still wasn't sure that ,arge wouldn't be asked along. ',arge is a Catholic%' he asked as they went down the stairs.
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')ith a vengeance+ $he was converted about si1 months ago by an .talian she had a mad crush on. Could that man talk+ He was here for a few months, resting u after a ski accident. ,arge consoles herself for the loss of 4duardo by embracing his religion.' '. had the idea she was in love with you.' ')ith me% 2on't be silly+' The dinner was ready when they went out on the terrace. There were even hot biscuits with butter, made by ,arge. '2o you know 6ic $immons in -ew 0ork%' Tom asked 2ickie. 6ic had quite a salon of artists, writers and dancers in -ew 0ork, but 2ickie didn't know of him. Tom asked him about two or three other eo le, also without success. Tom ho ed ,arge would leave after the coffee, but she didn't. )hen she left the terrace for a moment Tom said, 'Can . invite you for dinner at my hotel tonight%' 'Thank you. !t what time%' '$even(thirty% $o we'll have a little time for cocktails%((!fter all, it's your father's money,' Tom added with a smile. 2ickie laughed. '!ll right, cocktails and a good bottle of wine, ,arge+' ,arge was *ust coming back. ')e're dining tonight at the ,iramare, com liments of Greenleaf GHre+' $o ,arge was coming, too, and there was nothing Tom could do about it. !fter all, it was 2ickie's father's money. The dinner that evening was leasant, but ,arge's resence ke t Tom from talking about anything he would have liked to talk about, and he did not feel even like being witty in ,arge's resence. ,arge knew some of the eo le in the dining(room, and after dinner she e1cused herself and took her coffee over to another table and sat down. 'How long are you going to be here%' 2ickie asked. '&h, at least a week, .'d say,' Tom re lied. '3ecause (' 2ickie's face had flushed a little over the check( bones. The chianti had ut him into a good mood. '.f you're going to be here a little longer, why don't you stay with me% There's no use staying in a hotel, unless you really refer it.' 'Thank you very much,' Tom said. 'There's a bed in the maid's room, which you didn't see. 4rmclinda doesn't slee in. .'m sure we can make out with the furniture that's scattered around, if you think you'd like to.'
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'.'m sure .'d like to. 3y the way, your father gave me si1 hundred dollars for e1 enses, and .'ve still got about five hundred of it. . think we both ought to have a little fun on it, don't you%' '"ive hundred+' 2ickie said, as if he'd never seen that much money in one lum in his life. ')e could ick u a little car for that+' Tom didn't contribute to the car idea. That wasn't his idea of having fun. He wanted to fly to 'aris. ,arge was coming back, he saw. The ne1t morning he moved in. 2ickie and 4rmelinda had installed an armoire and a cou le of chairs in one of the u stairs rooms, and 2ickie had thumb(tacked a few re roductions of mosaic ortraits from $t ,ark's Cathedral on the walls. Tom hel ed 2ickie carry u the narrow iron bed from the maid's room. They were finished before twelve, a little light(headed from the frascati they had been si ing as they worked. '!re we still going to -a les%' Tom asked. 'Certainly.' 2ickie looked at his watch. '.t's only a quarter to twelve. )e can make the twelve o'clock bus.' They took nothing with them but their *ackets and Tom's book of traveller's cheques. The bus was *ust arriving as they reached the ost office. Tom and 2ickie stood by the door, waiting for eo le to get off: then 2ickie ulled himself u , right into the face of a young man with red hair and a loud s orts shirt, an !merican. '2ickie+' '"reddie+' 2ickie yelled. ')hat're you doing here%' 'Came to see you+ !nd the Cecchis. They're utting me u for a few days.' 'Ch'elegante+ .'m off to -a les with a friend. Tom%' 2ickie beckoned Tom over and introduced them. The !merican's name was "reddie ,iles. Tom thought he was hideous. Tom hated red hair, es ecially this kind of carrot(red hair with white skin and freckles. "reddie had large red(brown eyes that seemed to wobble in his head as if he were cockeyed, or erha s he was only one of those eo le who never looked at anyone they were talking to. He was also overweight. Tom turned away from him, waiting for 2ickie to finish his conversation. They were holding u the bus, Tom noticed. 2ickie and "reddie were talking about skiing, making a date for some time in 2ecember in a town Tom had never heard of. 'There'll be about fifteen of us at Cortina by the second,' "reddie
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said. '! real bang(u arty like last year+ Three weeks, if our money holds out+' '.f we hold out+' 2ickie said. '$ee you tonight, "red+' Tom boarded the bus after 2ickie. There were no seats, and they were wedged between a skinny, sweating man who smelled, and a cou le of old easant women who smelled worse. 5ust as they were leaving the village 2ickie remembered that ,arge was coming for lunch as usual, because they had thought yesterday that Tom's moving would cancel the -a les tri . 2ickie shouted for the driver to sto . The bus sto ed with a squeal of brakes and a lurch that threw everybody' who was standing off balance, and 2ickie ut his head through a window and called, 'Gino+ Gino+' ! little boy on the road came running u to take the hundred(lire bill that 2ickie was holding out to him. 2ickie said something in .talian, and the boy said, '$ubito, signor+' and flew u the road, 2ickie thanked the driver, and the bus started again. '. told him to tell ,arge we'd be back tonight, but robably late,' 2ickie said. 'Good.' The bus s illed them into a big, cluttered square in -a les, and they were suddenly surrounded by ush(carts of gra es, figs, astry, and watermelon, and screamed at by adolescent boys with fountain ens and mechanical toys. The eo le made way for 2ickie. '. know a good lace for lunch,' 2ickie said. '! real -ea olitan i//eria. 2o you like i//a%' '0es.' The i//eria was u a street too narrow and stee for cars. $trings of beads hanging in the doorway, a decanter of wine on every table, and there were only si1 tables in the whole lace, the kind of lace you could sit in for hours and drink wine and not be disturbed. They sat there until five o'clock, when 2ickie said it was time to move on to the Galleria. 2ickie a ologised for not taking him to the art museum, which had original da 6incis and 4l Grecos, he said, but they could see that at another time. 2ickie had s ent most of the afternoon talking about "reddie ,iles, and Tom had found it as uninteresting as "reddie's face. "reddie was the son of an !merican hotel(chain owner, and a laywright((self(styled, Tom gathered, because he had written only two lays, and neither had seen 3roadway. "reddie had a house in Cagnes(sur(,er, and 2ickie had stayed with him several weeks before he came to .taly.
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'This is what . like,' 2ickie said e1 ansively in the Galleria, 'sitting at a table and watching the eo le go by. .t does something to your outlook on life. The !nglo($a1ons make a great mistake not staring at eo le from a sidewalk table.' Tom nodded. He had heard it before. He was waiting for something rofound and original from 2ickie. 2ickie was handsome. He looked unusual with his long, finely cut face, his quick, intelligent eyes, the roud way he carried himself regardless of what he was wearing. He was wearing broken(down sandals and rather soiled white ants now, but he sat there as if he owned the Galleria, chatting in .talian with the waiter when he brought their es ressos. 'Ciao+' he called to an .talian boy who was assing by. 'Ciao, 2ickie+' 'He changes ,arge's traveller's cheques on $aturdays,' 2ickie e1 lained to Tom. ! well(dressed .talian greeted 2ickie with a warm handshake and sat down at the table with them. Tom listened to their conversation in .talian, making out a word here and there. Tom was beginning to feel tired. ')ant to go to #ome%' 2ickie asked him suddenly. '$ure,' Tom said. '-ow%' He stood u , reaching for money to ay the little tabs that the waiter had stuck under their coffee cu s. The .talian. had a long grey Cadillac equi ed with 6enetian blinds, a four(toned horn, and a blaring radio that he and 2ickie seemed content to shout over. They reached the outskirts of #ome in about two hours. Tom sat u as they drove along the ! ian )ay, es ecially for his benefit, the .talian told Tom, because Tom had not seen it before. The road was bum y in s ots. These were stretches of original #oman brick left bare to show eo le how #oman roads felt, the .talian said. The flat fields to left and right looked desolate in the twilight, like an ancient graveyard, Tom thought, with *ust a few tombs and remains of tombs still standing. The .talian dro ed them in the middle of a street in #ome and said an abru t good(bye. 'He's in a hurry,' 2ickie said. 'Got to see his girl friend and get away before the husband comes home at eleven. There's the music hall . was looking for. Come on.+ They bought tickets for the music(hall show that evening. There was still an hour before the erformance, and they went to the 6ia 6eneto, took a sidewalk table at one of the cafes, and ordered
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americanos. 2ickie didn't know anybody in #ome, Tom noticed, or at least none who assed by, and they watched hundreds of .talians and !mericans ass by their table. Tom got very little out of the music(hall show, but he tried his very best. 2ickie ro osed leaving before the show was over. Then they caught a carro//a and drove around the city, ast fountain after fountain, through the "orum and around the Colloseum. The moon had come out. Tom was still a little slee y, but the slee iness, underlaid with e1citement at being in #ome for the first time, ut him into a rece tive, mellow mood. They sat slum ed in the carro//a, each with a sandalled foot ro ed on a knee, and it seemed to Tom that he was looking in a mirror when he looked at 2ickie's leg and his ro ed foot beside him. They were the same height, and very much the same weight, 2ickie erha s a bit heavier, and they wore the same si/e bathrobe, socks, and robably shirts. 2ickie even said, 'Thank you, ,r Greenleaf,' when Tom aid the carro//a driver. Tom felt a little weird. They were in even finer mood by one in the morning, after a bottle and a half of wine between them at dinner. They walked with their arms around each other's shoulders, singing, and around a dark corner they somehow bum ed into a girl and knocked her down. They lifted her u , a ologising, and offered to escort her home. $he rotested, they insisted, one on either side of her. $he had to catch a certain trolley, she said. 2ickie wouldn't hear of it. 2ickie got a ta1i. 2ickie and Tom sat very ro erly on the *um seats with their arms folded like a cou le of footmen, and 2ickie talked to her and made her laugh. Tom could understand nearly everything 2ickie said. They hel ed the girl out in a little street that looked like -a les again, and she said, 'Gra/ie tante+' and shook hands with both of them, then vanished into an absolutely black doorway. '2id you hear that%' 2ickie said. '$he said we were the nicest !mericans she'd ever met+' '0ou know what most crummy !mericans would do in a case like that((ra e her,' Tom said. '-ow where are we%' 2ickie asked, turning com letely around. -either had the slightest idea where they were. They walked for several blocks without finding a landmark or a familiar street name. They urinated against a dark wall, then drifted on. ')hen the dawn comes u , we can see where we are,' 2ickie said cheerfully. He looked at his watch. '$ only a cou le of more hours.'
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'"ine.' '.t's worth it to see a nice girl home, isn't it%' 2ickie asked, staggering a little. '$ure it is. . like girls,' Tom said rotestingly. '3ut it's *ust as well ,arge isn't here tonight. )e never could have seen that girl home with ,arge with us.' '&h, . don't know,' 2ickie said thoughtfully, looking down at his weaving feet. ',arge isn't (' '. only mean, if ,arge was here, we'd be worrying about a hotel for the night. )e'd be in the damned hotel, robably. )e wouldn't be seeing half of #ome+' 'That's right+' 2ickie swung an arm around his shoulder. 2ickie shook his shoulder, roughly. Tom tried to roll out from under it and grab his hand, '2ickie(e+' Tom o ened his eyes and looked into the face of a oliceman. Tom sat u . He was in a ark. .t was dawn. 2ickie was sitting on the grass beside him, talking very calmly to the oliceman in .talian. Tom felt for the rectangular lum of his traveller's cheques. They were still in his ocket. ''ass orti+' the oliceman hurled at them again, and again 2ickie launched into his calm e1 lanation. Tom knew e1actly what 2ickie was saying. He was saying that they were !mericans, and they didn't have their ass orts because they had only gone out for a little walk to look at the stars. Tom had an im ulse to laugh. He stood u and staggered, dusting his clothing. 2ickie was u , too, and they began to walk away, though the oliceman was still yelling at them. 2ickie said something back to him in a courteous, e1 lanatory tone. !t least the oliceman was not following them. ')e do look retty cruddy,' 2ickie said. Tom nodded. There was a long ri in his trouser knee where he had robably fallen. Their clothes were crum led and grass(stained and filthy with dust and sweat, but now they were shivering with cold. They went into the first cafGH they came to, and had caffe latte and sweet rolls, then several .talian brandies that tasted awful but warmed them. Then they began to laugh. They were still drunk. 3y eleven o'clock they were in -a les, *ust in time to catch the bus for ,ongibello. .t was wonderful to think of going back to #ome when they were more resentably dressed and seeing all the museums
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they had missed, and it was wonderful to think of lying on the beach at ,ongibello this afternoon, baking in the sun. 3ut they never got to the beach. They had showers at 2ickie's house, then fell down on their res ective beds and sle t until ,arge woke them u around four. ,arge was annoyed because 2ickie hadn't sent her a telegram saying he was s ending the night in #ome. '-ot that . minded your s ending the night, but . thought you were in -a les and anything can ha en in -a les.' '&h(h,' 2ickie drawled with a glance at Tom. He was making 3loody ,arys for all of them. Tom ke t his mouth mysteriously shut. He wasn't going to tell ,arge anything they had done. 7et her imagine what she leased. 2ickie had made it evident that they had had a very good time. Tom noticed that she looked 2ickie over with disa roval of his hangover, his unshaven face, and the drink he was taking now. There was something in ,arge's eyes when she was very serious that made her look wise and old in s ite of the naive clothes she wore and her windblown hair and her general air of a Girl $cout. $he had the look of a mother or an older sister now((the old feminine disa roval of the destructive lay of little boys and men. 7a dee da+ &r was it *ealousy% $he seemed to know that 2ickie had formed a closer bond with him in twenty(four hours, *ust because he was another man, than she could ever have with 2ickie, whether he loved her or not, and he didn't. !fter a few moments she loosened u , however, and the look went out of her eyes. 2ickie left him with ,arge on the terrace. Tom asked her about the book she was writing. .t was a book about ,ongibello, she said, with her own hotogra hs. $he told him she was from &hio and showed him a icture, which she carried in her wallet, of her family's house. .t was *ust a lain cla board house, but it was home, ,arge said with a smile. $he ronounced the ad*ective 'Clabbered', which amused Tom, because that was the word she used to describe eo le who were drunk, and *ust a few minutes before she had said to 2ickie, '0ou look absolutely clabbered+' her s eech, Tom thought, was abominable, both her choice of words and her ronunciation. He tried to be es ecially leasant to her. He felt he could afford to be. He walked with her to the gate, and they said a friendly good(bye to each other, but neither said anything about their all getting together later that day or tomorrow. There was no doubt about it, ,arge was a little angry with 2ickie.
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.& "&# three or four days they saw very little of ,arge e1ce t down at the beach, and she was noticeably cooler towards both of them on the beach. $he smiled and talked *ust as much or maybe more, but there was an element of oliteness now, which made for the coolness. Tom noticed that 2ickie was concerned, though not concerned enough to talk to ,arge alone, a arently, because he hadn't seen her alone since Tom had moved into the house. Tom had been with 2ickie every moment since he had moved into 2ickie's house. "inally Tom, to show that he was not obtuse about ,arge, mentioned to 2ickie that he thought she was acting strangely. '&h, she has moods,' 2ickie said. ',aybe she's working well. $he doesn't like to see eo le when she's in a streak of work.' The 2ickie(,arge relationshi was evidently *ust what he had su osed it to be at first, Tom thought. ,arge was much fonder of 2ickie than 2ickie was of her. Tom, at any rate, ke t 2ickie amused. He had lots of funny stories to tell 2ickie about eo le he knew in -ew 0ork, some of them true, some of them made u . They went for a sail in 2ickie's boat every day. There was no mention of any date when Tom might be leaving. &bviously 2ickie was en*oying his com any. Tom ke t out of 2ickie's way when 2ickie wanted to aint, and he was always ready to dro whatever he was doing and go with 2ickie for a walk or a sail or sim ly sit and talk. 2ickie also seemed leased that Tom was taking his study of .talian seriously. Tom s ent a cou le of hours a day with his grammar and conversation books. Tom wrote to ,r Greenleaf that he was staying with 2ickie now for a few days, and said that 2ickie had mentioned flying home for a while in the winter, and that robably he could by that time ersuade him to stay longer. This letter sounded much better now that he was staying at 2ickie's house than his first letter in which he had said he was staying at a hotel in ,ongibello. Tom also said that when his money gave out he intended to try to get himself a *ob, erha s at one of the hotels in the village, a casual statement that served the double ur ose of reminding ,r Greenleaf that si1 hundred dollars could run
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out, and also that he was a young man ready and willing to work for a living. Tom wanted to convey the same good im ression to 2ickie, so he gave 2ickie the letter to read before he sealed it. !nother week went by, of ideally leasant weather, ideally la/y days in which Tom's greatest hysical e1ertion was climbing the stone ste s from the beach every afternoon and his greatest mental effort trying to chat in .talian with "austo, the twenty(three(year(old .talian boy whom 2ickie had found in the village and had engaged to come three times a week to give Tom .talian lessons. They went to Ca ri one day in 2ickie's sailboat. Ca ri was *ust far enough away not to be visible from ,ongibello. Tom was filled with antici ation, but 2ickie was in one of his reoccu ied moods and refused to be enthusiastic about anything. He argued with the kee er of the dock where they tied the 'i istrello. 2ickie didn't even want to take a walk through the wonderful(looking little streets that went off in every direction from the la/a. They sat in a cafGH on the la/a and drank a cou le of "ernet(3rancas, and then 2ickie wanted to start home before it became dark, though Tom would have willingly aid their hotel bill if 2ickie had agreed to stay overnight. Tom su osed they would come again to Ca ri, so he wrote that day off and tried to forget it. ! letter came from ,r Greenleaf, which had crossed Tom's letter, in which ,r Greenleaf reiterated his arguments for 2ickie's coming home, wished Tom success, and asked for a rom t re ly as to his results. &nce more Tom dutifully took u the en and re lied. ,r Greenleaf's letter had been in such a shockingly businesslike tone(( really as if he had been checking on a shi ment of boat arts, Tom thought((that he found it very easy to re ly in the same style. Tom was a little high when he wrote the letter, because it was *ust after lunch and they were always slightly high on wine *ust after lunch, a delicious sensation that could be corrected at once with a cou le of es resso: and a short walk, or rolonged with another glass of wine, si ed as they went about their leisurely afternoon routine. Tom amused himself by in*ecting a faint ho e in this letter. He wrote in ,r Greenleaf's own style8 ... .f . am not mistaken, #ichard is wavering in his decision to s end another winter here. !s . romised you, . shall do everything in my ower to dissuade him from s ending another winter here, and in time((though it may be as long as Christmas((. may be able to get him to stay in the $tates when he goes over.
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Tom had to smile as he wrote it, because he and 2ickie were talking of cruising around the Greek islands this winter, and 2ickie had given u the idea of flying home even for a few days, unless his mother should be really seriously ill by then. They had talked also of s ending 5anuary and "ebruary, ,ongibello's worst months, in ,a*orca. !nd ,arge would not be going with them, Tom was sure. 3oth he and 2ickie e1cluded her from their travel lans whenever they discussed them, though 2ickie had made the mistake of dro ing to her that they might be taking a winter cruise somewhere. 2ickie was so damned o en about everything+ !nd now, though Tom knew 2ickie was still firm about their going alone, 2ickie was being more than usually attentive to ,arge, *ust because he realised that she would be lonely here by herself, and that it was essentially unkind of them not to ask her along. 2ickie and Tom both tried to cover it u by im ressing on her that they would be travelling in the chea est and worst ossible way around Greece, cattle(boats, slee ing with easants on the decks and all that, no way for a girl to travel. 3ut ,arge still looked de*ected, and 2ickie still tried to make it u by asking her often to the house now for lunch and dinner. 2ickie took ,arge's hand sometimes as they walked u from the beach, though ,arge didn't always let him kee it. $ometimes she e1tricated her hand after a few seconds in a way that looked to Tom as if she were dying for her hand to be held. !nd when they asked her to go along with them to Herculaneum, she refused. '. think .'ll stay home. 0ou boys en*oy yourselves,' she said with an effort at a cheerful smile. ')ell, if she won't, she won't,' Tom said to 2ickie, and drifted tactfully into the house so that she and 2ickie could talk alone on the terrace if they wanted to. Tom sat on the broad window(sill in 2ickie's studio and looked out at the sea, his brown arms folded on his chest. He loved to look out at the blue ,editerranean and think of himself and 2ickie sailing where they leased. Tangiers, $ofia, Cairo, $evasto ol... 3y the time his money ran out, Tom thought, 2ickie would robably be so fond of him and so used to him that he would take it for granted they would go on living together. He and 2ickie could easily live on 2ickie's five hundred a month income. "rom the terrace he could hear a leading tone in 2ickie's voice, and ,arge's monosyllabic answers. Then he heard the
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gate clang. ,arge had left. $he had been going to stay for lunch. Tom shoved himself off the window(sill and went out to 2ickie on the terrace. ')as she angry about something%' Tom asked. '-o. $he feels kind of left out, . su ose.' ')e certainly tried to include her.' '.t isn't *ust this.' 2ickie was walking slowly u and down the terrace. '-ow she says she doesn't even want to go to Cortina with me.' '&h, she'll robably come around about Cortina before 2ecember.' '. doubt it,' 2ickie said. Tom su osed it was because he was going to Cortina, too. 2ickie had asked him last week. "reddie ,iles had been gone when they got back from their #ome tri 8 he had had to go to 7ondon suddenly, ,arge had told them. 3ut 2ickie had said he would write "reddie that he was bringing a friend along. '2o you want me to leave, 2ickie%' Tom asked, sure that 2ickie didn't want him to leave. '. feel .'m intruding on you and ,arge.' '&f course not+ .ntruding on what%' ')ell, from her oint of view.' '-o. .t's *ust that . owe her something. !nd . haven't been articularly nice to her lately. )e haven't.' Tom knew he meant that he and ,arge had ke t each other com any over the long, dreary last winter, when they had been the only !mericans in the village, and that he shouldn't neglect her now because somebody else was here. '$u ose . talk to her about going to Cortina,' Tom suggested. Then she surely won't go,' 2ickie said tersely, and went into the house. Tom heard him telling 4rmelinda to hold the lunch because he wasn't ready to eat yet. 4ven in .talian Tom could hear that 2ickie said he wasn't ready for lunch, in the master(of(the(house tone. 2ickie came out on the terrace, sheltering his lighter as he tried to light his cigarette. 2ickie had a beautiful silver lighter, but it didn't work well in the slightest bree/e. Tom finally roduced his ugly, flaring lighter, as ugly and efficient as a iece of military equi ment, and lighted it for him. Tom checked himself from ro osing a drink8 it wasn't his house, though as it ha ened he had bought the three bottles of Gilbey's
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that now stood in the kitchen. '.t's after two,' Tom said. ')ant to take a little walk and go by the ost office%' $ometimes 7uigi o ened the ost office at two(thirty, sometimes not until four, they could never tell. They walked down the hill in silence. )hat had ,arge said about him, Tom wondered. The sudden weight of guilt made sweat come out on Tom's forehead, an amor hous yet very strong sense of guilt, as if ,arge had told 2ickie s ecifically that he had stolen something or had done some other shameful thing. 2ickie wouldn't be acting like this only because ,arge had behaved coolly, Tom thought. 2ickie walked in his slouching, downhill gait that made his bony knees *ut out in front of him, a gait that Tom had unconsciously ado ted, too. 3ut now 2ickie's chin was sunk down on his chest and his hands were rammed into the ockets of his shorts. He came out of silence only to greet 7uigi and thank him for his letter. Tom had no mail. 2ickie's letter was from a -a les bank, a form sli on which Tom saw ty ewritten in a blank s ace8 =>?? .??. 2ickie ushed the sli carelessly into a ocket and dro ed the envelo e into a wastebucket. The monthly announcement that 2ickie's money had arrived in -a les, Tom su osed. 2ickie had said that his trust com any sent his money to a -a les bank. They walked on down the hill, and Tom assumed that they would walk u the main road to where it curved around a cliff on the other side of the village, as they had done before, but 2ickie sto ed at the ste s that led u to ,arge's house. '. think .'ll go u to see ,arge,' 2ickie said. '. won't be long, but there's no use in your waiting.' '!ll right,' Tom said, feeling suddenly desolate. He watched 2ickie climb a little way u the stee ste s cut into the wall, then he turned abru tly and started back towards the house. !bout half(way u the hill he sto ed with an im ulse to go down to Giorgio's for a drink Abut Giorgio's martinis were terribleB, and with another im ulse to go u to ,arge's house, and, on a retence of a ologising to her, vent his anger by sur rising them and annoying them. He suddenly felt that 2ickie was embracing her, or at least touching her, at this minute, and artly he wanted to see it, and artly he loathed the idea of seeing it. He turned and walked back to ,arge's gate. He closed the gate carefully behind him, though her house was so far above she could not ossibly have heard it, then ran u the ste s two at a time. He slowed as he climbed the last flight of
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ste s. He would say, '7ook here, ,arge, .'m sorry if .'ve been causing the strain around here. )e asked you to go today, and we mean it. . mean it.' Tom sto ed as ,arge's window came into view8 2ickie's arm was around her waist. 2ickie was kissing her, little ecks on her cheek, smiling at her. They were only about fifteen feet from him, but the room was shadowed com ared to the bright sunlight he stood in, and he had to strain to see. -ow ,arge's face was ti ed straight u to 2ickie's, as if she were fairly lost in ecstasy, and what disgusted Tom was that he knew 2ickie didn't mean it, that 2ickie was only using this chea obvious, easy way to hold on to her friendshi . )hat disgusted him was the big bulge of her behind in the easant skirt below 2ickie's arm that circled her waist. !nd 2ickie (+ Tom really wouldn't have believed it ossible of 2ickie+ Tom turned away and ran down the ste s, wanting to scream. He banged the gate shut. He ran all the way u the road home, and arrived gas ing, su orting himself on the ara et after he entered 2ickie's gate. He sat on the couch in 2ickie's studio for a few moments, his mind stunned and blank. That kiss((it hadn't looked like a first kiss. He walked to 2ickie's easel, unconsciously avoiding looking at the bad ainting that was on it, icked u the kneaded eraser that lay on the alette and flung it violently out of the window, saw it arc down and disa ear towards the sea. He icked u more erasers from 2ickie's table, en oints, smudge sticks, charcoal and astel fragments, and threw them one by one into corners or out of the windows. He had a curious feeling that his brain remained calm and logical and that his body was out of control. He ran out on the terrace with an idea of *um ing on to the ara et and doing a dance or standing on his head, but the em ty s ace on the other side of the ara et sto ed him. He went u to 2ickie's room and aced around for a few moments, his hands in his ockets. He wondered when 2ickie was coming back% &r was he going to stay and make an afternoon of it, really take her to bed with him% He *erked 2ickie's closet door o en and looked in. There was a freshly ressed, new(looking grey flannel suit that he had never seen 2ickie wearing. Tom took it out. He took off his knee(length shorts and ut on the grey flannel trousers. He ut on a air of 2ickie's shoes. Then he o ened the bottom drawer of the chest and took out a clean blue(and(white stri ed shirt.
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He chose a dark(blue silk tie and knotted it carefully. The suit fitted him. He re( arted his hair and ut the art a((little more to one side, the way 2ickie wore his. ',arge, you must understand that . don't love you,' Tom said into the mirror in 2ickie's voice, with 2ickie's higher itch on the em hasised words, with the little growl in his throat at the end of the hrase that could be leasant or un leasant, intimate or cool, according to 2ickie's mood. ',arge, sto it+' Tom turned suddenly and made a grab in the air as if he were sei/ing ,arge's throat. He shook her, twisted her, while she sank lower and lower, until at last he left her, lim , on the floor. He was anting. He wi ed his forehead the way 2ickie did, reached for a handkerchief and, not finding any, got one from 2ickie's to drawer, then resumed in front of the mirror. 4ven his arted li s looked like 2ickie's li s when he was out of breath from swimming, drawn down a little from his lower teeth. '0ou know why . had to do that,' he said, still breathlessly, addressing ,arge, though he watched himself in the mirror. '0ou were interfering between Tom and me((-o, not that+ 3ut there is a bond between us+' He turned, ste ed over the imaginary body, and went stealthily to the window. He could see, beyond the bend of the road, the blurred slant of the ste s that went u to ,arge's house level. 2ickie was not on the ste s or on the arts of the road that he could see. ,aybe they were slee ing together, Tom thought with a tighter twist of disgust in his throat. He imagined it, awkward, clumsy, unsatisfactory for 2ickie, and ,arge loving it. $he'd love it even if he tortured her+ Tom darted back to the closet again and took a hat from the to shelf. .t was a little grey Tyrolian hat with a green(and(white feather in the brim. He ut it on rakishly. .t sur rised him how much he looked like 2ickie with the to art of his head covered. #eally it was only his darker hair that was very different from 2ickie. &therwise, his nose((or at least its general form((his narrow *aw, his eyebrows if he held them right ( ')hat're you doing%' Tom whirled around. 2ickie was in the doorway. Tom realised that he must have been right below at the gate when he had looked out. '&h((*ust amusing myself,' Tom said in the dee voice he always used when he was embarrassed. '$orry, 2ickie.' 2ickie's mouth o ened a little, then closed, as if anger churned his words too much for them to be uttered. To Tom, it was *ust as bad as if he had s oken.
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2ickie advanced to the room. '2ickie, .'m sorry if it (' The violent slam of the door cut him off. 2ickie began o ening his shirt scowling, *ust as he would have if Tom had not been there, because this was his room, and what was Tom doing in it% Tom stood etrified with fear. '. wish you'd get out of my clothes,' 2ickie said. Tom started undressing, his fingers clumsy with his mortification, his shock, because u until now 2ickie had always said wear this and wear that that belonged to him. 2ickie would never say it again. 2ickie looked at Tom's feet. '$hoes, too% !re you cra/y%' '-o.' Tom tried to ull himself together as he hung u the suit, then he asked, '2id you make it u with ,arge%' ',arge and . are fine,' 2ickie sna ed in a way that shut Tom out from them. '!nother thing . want to say, but clearly,' he said, looking at Tom, '.'m not queer. . don't know if you have the idea that . am or not.' 'Pueer%' Tom smiled faintly. '. never thought you were queer.' 2ickie started to say something else, and didn't. He straightened u , the ribs showing in his dark chest. ')ell, ,arge thinks you are.' ')hy%' Tom felt the blood go out of his face. He kicked off 2ickie's second shoe feebly, and set the air in the closet. ')hy should she% )hat've . ever done%' He felt faint. -obody had ever said it outright to him, not in this way. '.t's *ust the way you act,' 2ickie said in a growling tone, and went out of the door. Tom hurried back into his shorts. He had been half concealing himself from 2ickie behind the closet door, though he had his underwear on. 5ust because 2ickie liked him, Tom thought, ,arge had launched her filthy accusations of him at 2ickie. !nd 2ickie hadn't had the guts to stand u and deny it to her+ He went downstairs and found 2ickie fi1ing himself a drink at the bar shelf on the terrace. '2ickie, . want to get this straight,' Tom began. '.'m not queer either, and . don't want anybody thinking . am.' '!ll right,' 2ickie growled. The tone reminded Tom of the answers 2ickie had given him when he had asked 2ickie if he knew this erson and that in -ew 0ork. $ome of the eo le he had asked 2ickie about were queer, it was true, and he had often sus ected 2ickie of deliberately denying knowing them when he did know them. !ll right+ )ho was making an
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issue of it, anyway% 2ickie was. Tom hesitated while his mind tossed in a welter of things he might have said, bitter things, conciliatory things, grateful and hostile. His mind went back to certain grou s of eo le he had known in -ew 0ork, known and dro ed finally, all of them, but he regretted now having ever known them. They had taken him u because he amused them, but he had never had anything to do with any of them+ )hen a cou le of them had made a ass at him, he had re*ected them((though he remembered how he had tried to make it u to them later by getting ice for their drinks, dro ing them off in ta1is when it was out of his way, because he had been afraid they would start to dislike him. He'd been an ass+ !nd he remembered, too, the humiliating moment when 6ic $immons had said, &h, for Christ sake, Tommie, shut u + when he had said to a grou of eo le, for erha s the third or fourth time in 6ic's resence, '. can't make u my mind whether . like men or women, so .'m thinking of giving them both u .' Tom had used to retend he was going to an analyst, because everybody else was going to an analyst, and he had used to s in wildly funny stories about his sessions with his analyst to amuse eo le at arties, and the line about giving u men and women both had always been good for a laugh, the way he delivered it, until 6ic had told him for Christ sake to shut u , and after that Tom had never said it again and never mentioned his analyst again, either. !s a matter of fact, there was a lot of truth in it, Tom thought. !s eo le went, he was one of the most innocent and clean(minded he had ever known. That was the irony of this situation with 2ickie. '. feel as if .'ve (' Tom began, but 2ickie was not even listening. 2ickie turned away with a grim look around his mouth and carried his drink to the corner of the terrace. Tom advanced towards him, a little fearfully, not knowing whether 2ickie would hurl him off the terrace, or sim ly turn around and tell him to get the hell out of the house. Tom asked quietly, '!re you in love with ,arge, 2ickie%' '-o, but . feel sorry for her. . care about her. $he's been very nice to me. )e've had some good times together. 0ou don't seem to be able to understand that.' '. do understand. That was my original feeling about you and her(( that it was a latonic thing as far as you were concerned, and that she was robably in love with you.' '$he is. 0ou go out of your way not to hurt eo le who're in love with you, you know.'
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'&f course.' He hesitated again, trying to choose his words. He was still in a state of trembling a rehension, though 2ickie was not angry with him any more. 2ickie was not going to throw him out. Tom said in a more self( ossessed tone, '. can imagine that if you both were in -ew 0ork you wouldn't have seen her nearly so often((or at all((but this village being so lonely (' 'That's e1actly right. . haven't been to bed with her and . don't intend to, but . do intend to kee her friendshi .' ')ell, have . done anything to revent you% . told you, 2ickie, .'d rather leave than do anything to break u your friendshi with ,arge.' 2ickie gave a glance. QRS -o, you haven't done anything, s ecifically, but it's obvious you don't like her around. )henever you make an effort to say anything nice to her, it's so obviously an effort.' Tm sorry,' Tom said contritely. He was sorry he hadn't made more of an effort, that he had done a bad *ob when he might have done a good one. ')ell, let's let it go. ,arge and . are okay,' 2ickie said defiantly. He turned away and stared off at the water. Tom went into the kitchen to make himself a little boiled coffee. He didn't want to use the es resso machine, because 2ickie was very articular about it and didn't like anyone using it but himself. He'd take the coffee u to his room, and study some .talian before "austo came, Tom thought. This wasn't the time to make it u with 2ickie. 2ickie had his ride. He would be silent for most of the afternoon, then come around by about five o'clock after he had been ainting for a while, and it would be as if the e isode with the clothes had never ha ened. &ne thing Tom was sure of8 2ickie was glad to have him here. 2ickie was bored with living by himself, and bored with ,arge, too. Tom still had three hundred dollars of the money ,r Greenleaf had given him, and he and 2ickie were going to use it on a s ree in 'aris. )ithout ,arge. 2ickie had been ama/ed when Tom had told him he hadn't had more than a glim se oMN 'aris through a railroad station window. )hile he waited for his coffee, Tom ut away the food that was to have been their lunch. He set a cou le of ots of food in bigger ots of water to kee the ants away from them. There was also the little a er of fresh butter, the air of eggs, the a er of four rolls that 4rmelinda had brought for their breakfast tomorrow. They had to buy
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small quantities of everything every day, because there was no refrigerator. 2ickie wanted to buy a refrigerator with art of his father's money. He had mentioned it a cou le of times. Tom ho ed he changed his mind, because a refrigerator would cut down their travelling money, and 2ickie had a very definite budget for his own five hundred dollars every month. 2ickie was cautious about money, in a way, yet down at the wharf, and in the village bars, he gave enormous ti s right and left, and gave five(hundred(lire bills to any beggar who a roached him. 2ickie was back to normal by five o'clock. He had had a good afternoon of ainting. Tom su osed, because he had been whistling for the last hour in his studio. 2ickie came out on the terrace where Tom was scanning his .talian grammar, and gave him some ointers on his ronunciation. 'They don't always say QRS voglioF so clearly,' 2ickie said. They say QRS io vo' resentare mia arnica ,arge, er esem io.F' 2ickie drew his long hand backwards through the air. He !lways made gestures when he s oke .talian, graceful gestures as if he were leading an orchestra in a legato. '0ou'd better listen to "austo more and read that grammar less. . icked my .talian u off the streets.' 2ickie smiled and walked away down the garden ath. "austo was *ust coming in the gate. Tom listened carefully to their laughing e1changes in .talian, $training to understand every word. "austo came out on the terrace smiling, sank into a chair, and ut his bare feet u on the ara et. His face was either smiling or frowning, and it could change from instant to instant. He was one of the few eo le in the village, 2ickie said, who didn't s eak in a southern dialect. "austo lived in ,ilan, and he was visiting an aunt in ,ongibello for a few months. He came, de endably and unctually, three times a week between five and five(thirty, and they sat on the terrace and si ed wine or coffee and chatted for about an hour. Tom tried his utmost to memorise everything "austo said about the rocks, the water, olitics A"austo was a Communist, a card(carrying Communist, and he showed his card to !mericans at the dro of a hat, 2ickie said, because he was amused by their astonishment at his having itB, and about the fren/ied, catlike se1(life of some of the village inhabitants. "austo found it hard to think of things to talk about sometimes, and then he would stare at Tom and burst out laughing. 3ut Tom was making great rogress, .talian was the only thing he had
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ever studied that he en*oyed and felt he could stick to. Tom wanted his .talian to be as good as 2ickie's, and he thought he could make it that good in another month, if he ke t on working hard at it.
11 T&, walked briskly across the terrace and into 2ickie's studio. ')ant to go to 'aris in a coffin%' he asked. ')hat%' 2ickie looked u from his watercolour. '.'ve been talking to an .talian in Giorgio's. )e'd start out from Trieste, ride in coffins in the baggage car escorted by some "renchmen, and we'd get a hundred thousand lire a iece. . have the idea it concerns do e.' '2o e in the coffins% .sn't that an old stunt%' ')e talked in .talian, so . didn't understand everything, but he said there'd be three coffins, and maybe the third has a real cor se in it and they've ut the do e into the cor se. !nyway, we'd get the tri lus the e1 erience.' He em tied his ockets of the acks of shi 's store 7ucky $trikes that he had *ust bought from a street eddler for 2ickie. ')hat do you say%' '. think it's a marvellous idea. To 'aris in a coffin+' There was a funny smile on 2ickie's face, as if 2ickie were ulling his leg by retending to fall in with it, when he hadn't the least intention of falling in with it. Tm serious,' Tom said. 'He really is on the lookout for a cou le of willing young men. The coffins are su osed to contain the bodies of "rench casualties from .ndo(China. The "rench escort is su osed to be the relative of one of them, or maybe all of them.' .t wasn't e1actly what the man had said to him, but it was near enough. !nd two hundred thousand lire was over three hundred dollars, after all, lenty for a s ree in 'aris. 2ickie was still hedging about 'aris. 2ickie looked at him shar ly, ut out the bent wis of the -a/ionale he was smoking, and o ened one of the acks of 7uckies. '!re you sure the guy you were talking to wasn't under the influence of do e himself%'
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'0ou're so damned cautious these days+' Tom said with a laugh. ')here's your s irit% 0ou look as if you don't even believe me+ Come with me and .'ll show you the man. He's still down there waiting for me. His name's Carlo.' 2ickie showed no sign of moving. '!nybody with an offer like that doesn't e1 lain all the articulars to you. They get a cou le of toughs to ride from Trieste to 'aris, maybe, but even that doesn't make sense to me.' ')ill you come with me and talk to him% .f you don't believe me, at least look at him.' '$ure.' 2ickie got u suddenly. '. might even do it for a hundred thousand lire.' 2ickie closed a book of oems that had been lying face down on his studio couch before he followed Tom out of the room. ,arge had a lot of books of oetry. 7ately 2ickie had been borrowing them. The man was still sitting at the corner table in Giorgio's when they came in. Tom smiled at him and nodded. 'Hello, Carlo,' Tom said. ''osso sedermi%' '$i, si,' the man said, gesturing to the chairs at his table. This is my friend,' Tom said carefully in .talian. 'He wants to know if the work with the railroad *ourney is correct.' Tom watched Carlo looking 2ickie over, si/ing him u , and it was wonderful to Tom how the man's dark, tough, callous(looking eyes betrayed nothing but olite interest, how in a s lit second he seemed to take in and evaluate 2ickie's faintly smiling but sus icious e1 ression, 2ickie's tan that could not have been acquired e1ce t by months of lying in the sun, his worn, .talian(made clothes and his !merican rings. ! smile s read slowly across the man's ale, flat li s, and he glanced at Tom. '!llora%' Tom rom ted, im atient. The man lifted his sweet martini and drank. 'The *ob is real, but . do not think your friend is the right man.' Tom looked at 2ickie. 2ickie was watching the man alertly, with the same neutral smile that suddenly struck Tom as contem tuous. ')ell, at least it's true, you see+' Tom said to 2ickie. ',m(m,' 2ickie said, still ga/ing at the man as if he were some kind of animal which interested him, and which he could kill if he decided to. 2ickie could have talked .talian to the man. 2ickie didn't say a
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word. Three weeks ago, Tom thought, 2ickie would have taken the man u on his offer. 2id he have to sit there looking like a stool igeon or a olice detective waiting for reinforcements so he could arrest the man% ')ell,' Tom said finally, 'you believe me, don't you%' 2ickie glanced at him. '!bout the *ob% How do . know%' Tom looked at the .talian e1 ectantly. The .talian shrugged. 'There is no need to discuss it, is there%' he asked in .talian. '-o,' Tom said. ! cra/y, directionless fury boiled in his blood and made him tremble. He was furious at 2ickie. 2ickie was looking over the man's dirty nails, dirty shirt collar, his ugly dark face that had been recently shaven though not recently washed, so that where the beard had been was much lighter than the skin above and below it. 3ut the .talian's dark eyes were cool and amiable, and stronger than 2ickie's. Tom felt stifled. He was conscious that he could not e1 ress himself in .talian. He wanted to s eak both to 2ickie and to the man. '-iente, gra/ie, 3erto,' 2ickie said calmly to the waiter who had come over to ask what they wanted. 2ickie looked at Tom. '#eady to go%' Tom *um ed u so suddenly his straight chair u set behind him. He set it u again, and bowed a good(bye to the .talian. He felt he owed the .talian an a ology, yet he could not o en his mouth to say even a conventional good(bye. The .talian nodded good(bye and smiled. Tom followed 2ickie's long white(clad legs out of the bar. &utside, Tom said, '. *ust wanted you to see that it's true at least. . ho e you see.' '!ll right, it's true,' 2ickie said, smiling. ')hat's the matter with you%' ')hat's the matter with you%' Tom demanded. 'The man's a crook. .s that what you want me to admit% &kay+' '2o you have to be so damned su erior about it% 2id he do anything to you%' '!m . su osed to get down on my knees to him% .'ve seen crooks before. This village gets lots of them.' 2ickie's blond eyebrows frowned. ')hat the hell is the matter with you% 2o you want to take him u on his cra/y ro osition% Go ahead+' '. couldn't now if . wanted to. -ot after the way you acted.' 2ickie sto ed in the road, looking at him. They were arguing so loudly, a few eo le around them were looking, watching. '.t could have been fun,' Tom said, 'but not the way you chose to
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take it, ! month ago when we went to #ome, you'd have thought something like this was fun.' '&h, no,' 2ickie said, shaking his head. '. doubt it.' The sense of frustration and inarticulateness was agony to Tom. !nd the fact that they were being looked at. He forced himself to walk on, in tense little ste s at first, until he was sure that 2ickie was coming with him. The u//lement, the sus icion, was still in 2ickie's face, and Tom knew 2ickie was u//led about his reaction. Tom wanted to e1 lain it, wanted to break through to 2ickie so he would understand and they would feel the same way. 2ickie had felt the same way he had a month ago. '.t's the way you acted,' Tom said. '0ou didn't have to act that way. The fellow wasn't doing you any harm.' 'He looked like a dirty crook+' 2ickie retorted. '"or Christ sake, go back if you like him so much. 0ou're under no obligation to do what . do+' -ow Tom sto ed. He had an im ulse to go back, not necessarily to go back to the .talian, but to leave 2ickie. Then his tension sna ed suddenly. His shoulders rela1ed, aching, and his breath began to come fast, through his mouth. He wanted to say at least, '!ll right 2ickie,' to make it u , to make 2ickie forget it. He felt tongue(tied. He stared at 2ickie's blue eyes that were still frowning, the sun bleached eyebrows white and the eyes themselves shining and em ty,. nothing but little ieces of blue *elly with a black dot in them, meaningless, without relation to him. 0ou were su osed to see the soul through the eyes, to see love through the eyes, the one lace you could look at another human being and see what really went on inside, and in 2ickie's eyes Tom saw nothing more now than he would have seen if he had looked at the hard, bloodless surface of a mirror. Tom felt a ainful wrench in his breast, and he covered his face with his hands. .t was as if 2ickie had been suddenly snatched away from him. They were not friends. They didn't know each other. .t struck Tom like a horrible truth, true for all time, true for the eo le he had known in the ast and for those he would know in the future8 each had stood and would stand before him, and he would know time and time again that he would never know them, and the worst was that there would always be the illusion, for a time, that he did know them, and that he and they were com letely in harmony and alike. "or an instant the wordless shock of his realisation seemed more than he could bear. He felt in the gri of a fit, as if he would fall to the ground. .t was too much8
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the foreignness around him, the different language, his failure, and the fact that 2ickie hated him. He felt surrounded by strangeness, by hostility. He felt 2ickie yank his hands down from his eyes. ')hat's the matter with you%' 2ickie asked. '2id that guy give you a shot of something%' '-o.' '!re you sure% .n your drink%' '-o.' The first dro s of the evening rain fell on his head. There was a rumble of thunder. Hostility from above, too. '. want to die,' Tom said in a small voice. 2ickie yanked him by the arm. Tom tri ed over a doorste . They were in the little bar o osite the ost office. Tom heard 2ickie ordering a brandy, s ecifying .talian brandy because he wasn't good enough for "rench, Tom su osed. Tom drank it off, slightly sweetish, medicinal(tasting, drank three of them, like a magic medicine to bring him back to what his mind knew was usually called reality8 the smell of the -a/ionale in 2ickie's hand, the curlycued grain in the wood of the bar under his fingers, the fact that his stomach had a hard ressure in it as if someone were holding a fist against his navel, the vivid antici ation of the long stee walk from here u to the house, the faint ache that would come in his thighs from it. '.'m okay,' Tom said in a quiet, dee voice. '. don't know what was the matter. ,ust have been the heat that got me for a minute.' He laughed a little. That was reality, laughing it off, making it silly, something that was more im ortant than anything that had ha ened to him in the five weeks since he had met 2ickie, maybe that had ever ha ened to him. 2ickie said nothing, only ut the cigarette in his mouth and took a cou le of hundred(lire bills from his black alligator wallet and laid them on the bar. Tom was hurt that he said nothing, hurt like a child who has been sick and robably a nuisance, but who e1 ects at least a friendly word when the sickness is over. 3ut 2ickie was indifferent. 2ickie had bought him the brandies as coldly as he might have bought them for a stranger he had encountered who felt ill and had no money. Tom thought suddenly, 2ickie doesn't want me to go to Cortina. .t was not the first time Tom had thought that. ,arge was going to Cortina now. $he and 2ickie had bought a new giant(si/ed Thermos to take to Cortina the last time they had been in -a les. They hadn't asked him if he had liked the Thermos, or aanything else. They
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were *ust quietly and gradually leaving him out of their re arations. Tom felt that 2ickie e1 ected him to take off, in fact, *ust before the Cortina tri . ! cou le of weeks ago, 2ickie had said he would show him some of the ski trials around Cortina that were marked on a ma that he had. 2ickie had looked at the ma one evening, but he had not talked to him. '#eady%' 2ickie asked. Tom followed him out of the bar like a dog. '.f you can get home all right by yourself, . thought .'d run u and see ,arge for a while,' 2ickie said on the road. '. feel fine,' Tom said. 'Good.' Then he said over his shoulder as he walked away, ')ant to ick u the mail% . might forget.' Tom nodded. He went into the ost office. There were two letters, one to him from 2ickie's father, one to 2ickie from someone in -ew 0ork whom Tom didn't know. He stood in the doorway and o ened ,r Greenleaf's letter, unfolded the ty ewritten sheet res ectfully. .t had the im ressive ale green letterhead of 3urke(Greenleaf )atercraft, .nc., with the shi 's(wheel(trademark in the centre. 1? -ov. 1O( ,y dear Tom, .n view of the fact you have been with 2ickie over a month and that he shows no more sign of coming home than before you went, . can only conclude that you haven't been successful. . realise that with the best of intentions you re orted that he is considering returning, but frankly, . don't see it anywhere in his letter of 9@ &ctober. !s a matter of fact, he seems more determined than ever to stay where he is. . want you to know that . and my wife a reciate whatever efforts you have made on our behalf, and his. 0ou need no longer consider yourself obligated to me in any way. . trust you have not inconvenienced yourself greatly by your efforts of the ast month, and . sincerely ho e the tri has afforded you some leasure des ite the failure of its main ob*ective. 3oth my wife and . send you greetings and our thanks. $incerely,
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H. #. Greenleaf .t was the final blow. )ith the cool tone((even cooler than his usual businesslike coolness, because this was a dismissal and he had in*ected a note of courteous thanks in it((,r Greenleaf had sim ly cut him off. He had failed. '. trust you have not inconvenienced yourself greatly...' )asn't that sarcastic% ,r Greenleaf didn't even say that he would like to see him again when he returned to !merica. Tom walked mechanically u the hill. He imagined 2ickie in ,arge's house now, narrating to her the story of Carlo in the bar, and his eculiar behaviour on the road afterward. Tom knew what ,arge would say8 ')hy don't you get rid of him, 2ickie%' $hould he go back and e1 lain to them, he wondered, force them to listen% Tom turned around, looking at the inscrutable square front of ,arge's house u on the hill, at its em ty, dark(looking window. His denim *acket was getting wet from the rain. He turned its collar u . Then he walked on quickly u the hill towards 2ickie's house. !t least, he thought roudly, he hadn't tried to wheedle any more money out of ,r Greenleaf, and he might have. He might have, even with 2ickie's coo eration, if he had ever a roached 2ickie about it when 2ickie had been in a good mood. !nybody else would have, Tom thought, anybody, but he hadn't, and that counted for something. He stood at the corner of the terrace, staring out at the vague em ty line of the hori/on and thinking of nothing, feeling nothing e1ce t a faint, dreamlike lostness and aloneness. 4ven 2ickie and ,arge seemed far away, and what they might be talking about seemed unim ortant. He was alone. That was the only im ortant thing. He began to feel a tingling fear at the end of his s ine, tingling over his buttocks. He turned as he heard the gate o en. 2ickie walked u the ath, smiling, but it struck Tom as a forced, olite smile. ')hat're you doing standing there in the rain%' 2ickie asked, ducking into the hall door. '.t's very refreshing,' Tom said leasantly. 'Here's a letter for you.' He handed 2ickie his letter and stuffed the one from ,r Greenleaf into his ocket. Tom hung his *acket in the hall closet. )hen 2ickie had finished reading his letter((a letter that had made him laugh out loud as he read it((Tom said, '2o you think ,arge would like to go u to 'aris with
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us when we go%' 2ickie looked sur rised. '. think she would.' ')ell, ask her,' Tom said cheerfully. '. don't know if . should go u to 'aris,' 2ickie said. '. wouldn't mind getting away somewhere for a few days, but 'aris (' He lighted a cigarette. '.'d *ust as soon go u to $an #emo or even Genoa. That's quite a town.' '3ut 'aris((Genoa can't com are with 'aris, can it%' '-o, of course not, but it's a lot closer.' '3ut when will we get to 'aris%' '. don't know. !ny old time. 'aris'll still be there.' Tom listened to the echo of the words in his ears, searching their tone. The day before yesterday, 2ickie had received a letter from his father. He had read a few sentences aloud and they had laughed about something, but he had not read the whole letter as he had a cou le of times before. Tom had no doubt that ,r Greenleaf had told 2ickie that he was fed u with Tom #i ley, and robably that he sus ected him of using his money for his own entertainment. ! month ago 2ickie would have laughed at something like that, too, but not now, Tom thought. '. *ust thought while . have a little money left, we ought to make our 'aris tri ,' Tom ersisted. '0ou go u . .'m not in the mood right now. Got to save my strength for Cortina.' ')ell((. su ose we'll make it $an #emo then,' Tom said, trying to sound agreeable, though he could have we t. '!ll right.' Tom darted from the hall into the kitchen. The huge white form of the refrigerator s rang out of the corner at him. He had wanted a drink, with ice in it. -ow he didn't want to touch the thing. He had s ent a whole day in -a les with 2ickie and ,arge, looking at refrigerators, ins ecting ice trays, counting the number of gadgets, until Tom hadn't been able to tell one refrigerator from another, but 2ickie and ,arge had ke t at it with the enthusiasm of newlyweds. Then they had s ent a few more hours in a cafGH discussing the res ective merits of all the refrigerators they had looked at before they decided on the one they wanted. !nd now ,arge was o ing in and out more often than ever, because she stored some of her own food in it, and she often wanted to borrow ice. Tom realised suddenly why he hated the refrigerator so much. .t meant that 2ickie was
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staying ut. .t finished not only their Greek tri this winter, but it meant 2ickie robably never would move to 'aris or #ome to live, as he and Tom had talked of doing in Tom's first weeks here. -ot with a refrigerator that had the distinction of being one of only about four in the village, a refrigerator with si1 ice trays and so many shelves on the door that it looked like a su ermarket swinging out at you every time you o ened it. Tom fi1ed himself an iceless drink. His hands were shaking. &nly yesterday 2ickie had said, '!re you going home for Christmas%' very casually in the middle of some conversation, but 2ickie knew damned well he wasn't going home for Christmas. He didn't have a home, and 2ickie knew it. He had told 2ickie all about !unt 2ottie in 3oston. .t had sim ly been a big hint, that was all. ,arge was full of lans about Christmas. $he had a can of 4nglish lum udding she was saving, and she was going to get a turkey from some contadino. Tom could imagine how she would slo it u with her saccharine sentimentality. ! Christmas tree, of course, robably cut out of cardboard. '$ilent -ight.' 4ggnog. Gooey resents for 2ickie. ,arge knitted. $he took 2ickie's socks home to darn all the time. !nd they'd both slightly, olitely, leave him out. 4very friendly thing they would say to him would be a ainful effort. Tom couldn't bear to imagine it. !ll right, he'd leave. He'd do something rather than endure Christmas with them.
19 ,!#G4 said she didn't care to go with them to $an #emo. $he was in the middle of a 'streak' on her book. ,arge worked in fits and starts, always cheerfully, though it seemed to Tom that she was bogged down, as she called it, about seventy(five er cent of the time, a condition that she always announced with a merry little laugh. The book must stink, Tom thought. He had known writers. 0ou didn't write a book with your little finger, lolling on a beach half the day, wondering what to eat for dinner. 3ut he was glad she was having a 'streak' at the time he and 2ickie wanted to go to $an #cmo.
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'.'d a reciate it if you'd try to find that cologne, 2ickie,' she said. '0ou know, the $tradivari . couldn't find in -a les. $an #emo's bound to have it, they have so many sho s with "rench stuff.' Tom could sec them s ending a whole day looking for it in $an #emo, *ust as they had s ent hours looking for it in -a les one $aturday. They took only one suitcase of 2ickie's between them, because they lanned to be away only three nights and four days. 2ickie was in a slightly more cheerful mood, but the awful finality was still there, the feeling that this was the last tri they would make together anywhere. To Tom, 2ickie's olite cheerfulness on the train was like the cheerfulness of a host who has loathed his guest and is afraid the guest realises it, and who tries to make it u at the last minute. Tom had never before in his life felt like an unwelcome, boring guest. &n the train, 2ickie told Tom about $an #emo and the week he had s ent there with "reddie ,iles when he first arrived in .taly. $an #emo was tiny, but it had a famous name as an international sho ing centre, 2ickie said, and eo le came across the "rench border to buy things there. .t occurred to Tom that 2ickie was trying to sell him on the town and might try to ersuade him to stay there alone instead of coming back to ,ongibello. Tom began to feel an aversion to the lace before they got there. Then, almost as the train was sliding into the $an #emo station, 2ickie said, '3y the way, Tom((. hate to say this to you, if you're going to mind terribly, but . really would refer to go to Cortina d'!m e//o alone with ,arge. . think she'd refer it, and after all . owe something to her, a leasant holiday at least. 0ou don't seem to be too enthusiastic about skiing.' Tom went rigid and cold, but he tried not to move a muscle. 3laming it on ,arge+ '!ll right,' he said. '&f course.' -ervously he looked at the ma in his hands, looking des erately around $an #emo for somewhere else to go, though 2ickie was already swinging their suitcase down from the rack. ')e're not far from -ice, are we%' Tom asked. '-o.' '!nd Cannes. .'d like to see Cannes as long as .'m this far. !t least Cannes is "rance,' he added on a re roachful note. ')ell, . su ose we could. 0ou brought your ass ort, didn't you%' Tom had brought his ass ort. They boarded a train for Cannes,
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and arrived around eleven o'clock that night. Tom thought it beautiful((the swee of curving harbour e1tended by little lights to long thin crescent ti s, the elegant yet tro ical(looking main boulevard along the water with its rows of alm trees, its row of e1 ensive hotels. "rance+ .t was more sedate than .taly, and more chic, he could feel that even in the dark. They went to a hotel on the first back street, the Gray d'!lbion, which was chic enough but wouldn't cost them their shirts, 2ickie said, though Tom would gladly have aid whatever it cost at the best hotel on the ocean front. They left their suitcase at the hotel, and went to the bar of the Hotel Carlton, which 2ickie said was the most fashionable bar in Cannes. !s he had redicted, there were not many eo le in the bar, because there were not many eo le in Cannes at this time of year. Tom ro osed a second round of drinks but 2ickie declined. They breakfasted at a cafGH the ne1t morning, then strolled down to the beach. They had their swimming trunks on under their trousers. The day was cool, but not im ossibly cool for swimming. They had been swimming in ,ongibello on colder days. The beach was ractically em ty((a few isolated airs of eo le, a grou of men laying some kind of game u the embankment. The waves curved over and broke on the sand with a wintry violence. -ow Tom saw that the grou of men were doing acrobatics. 'They must be rofessionals,' Tom said. 'They're all in the same yellow G(strings.' Tom watched with interest as a human yramid began building, feet braced on bulging thighs, hands gri ing forearms. He could hear their '!lle/+' and their '<n(dGHu1+' '7ook+' Tom said. There goes the to +' He stood still to watch the smallest one, a boy of about seventeen, as he was boosted to the shoulders of the centre man in the three to men. He stood oised, his arms o en, as if receiving a lause. '3ravo+' Tom shouted. The boy smiled at Tom before he lea t down, lithe as a tiger. Tom looked at 2ickie. 2ickie was looking at a cou le of men sitting near by on the beach. 'Ten thousand saw . at a glance, nodding their heads in s rightly dance,' 2ickie said sourly to Tom. .t startled Tom, then he felt that shar thrust of shame, the same shame he had felt in ,ongibello when 2ickie had said, ,arge thinks you are. !ll right, Tom thought, the acrobats were fairies. ,aybe
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Cannes was full of fairies. $o what% Tom's fists were clenched tight in his trousers ockets. He remembered !unt 2ottie's taunt8 $issy+ He's a sissy from the ground u . 5ust life his father+ 2ickie stood with his arms folded, looking out at the ocean. Tom deliberately ke t himself from even glancing at the acrobats again, though they were certainly more amusing to watch than the ocean. '!re you going in%' Tom asked, boldly unbuttoning his shirt, though the water suddenly looked cold as hell. '. don't think so,' 2ickie said. ')hy don't you stay here and watch the acrobats% .'m going back.' He turned and started back before Tom could answer. Tom buttoned his clothes hastily, watching 2ickie as he walked diagonally away, away from the acrobats, though the ne1t stairs u to the sidewalk were twice as far as the stairs nearer the acrobats. 2amn him anyway, Tom thought. 2id he have to act so damned aloof and su erior all the time% 0ou'd think he'd never seen a ansy+ &bvious what was the matter with 2ickie, all right+ )hy didn't he break down, *ust for once% )hat did he have that was so im ortant to lose% ! half( do/en taunts s rang to his mind as he ran after 2ickie. Then 2ickie glanced around at him coldly, with distaste, and the first taunt died in his mouth. They left for $an #emo that afternoon, *ust before three o'clock, so there would not be another day to ay on the hotel bill. 2ickie had ro osed leaving by three, though it was Tom who aid the C, IC?( franc bill, ten dollars and eight cents !merican, for one night. Tom also bought their railroad tickets to $an #emo, though 2ickie was loaded with francs. 2ickie had brought his monthly remittance cheque from .taly and cashed it in francs, figuring that he would come out better converting the francs back into lire later, because of a sudden recent strengthening of the franc. 2ickie said absolutely nothing on the train. <nder a retence of being slee y, he folded his arms and closed his eyes. Tom sat o osite him, staring at his bony, arrogant, handsome face, at his hands with the green ring and the gold signet ring. .t crossed Tom's mind to steal the green ring when he left. .t would be easy8 2ickie took it off when he swam. $ometimes he took it off even when he showered at the house. He would do it the very last day, Tom thought. Tom stared at 2ickie's closed eyelids. ! cra/y emotion of hate, of affection, of im atience and frustration was swelling in him, ham ering his
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breathing. He wanted to kill 2ickie. .t was not the first time he had thought of it. 3efore, once or twice or three times, it had been an im ulse caused by anger or disa ointment, an im ulse that vanished immediately and left him with a feeling of shame. -ow he thought about it for an entire minute, two minutes, because he was leaving 2ickie anyway, and what was there to be ashamed of any more% He had failed with 2ickie, in every way. He hated 2ickie, because, however he looked at what had ha ened, his failing had not been his own fault, not due to anything he had done, but due to 2ickie's inhuman stubbornness. !nd his blatant rudeness+ He had offered 2ickie friendshi , com anionshi , and res ect, everything he had to offer, and 2ickie had re lied with ingratitude and now hostility. 2ickie was *ust shoving him out in the cold. .f he killed him on this tri , Tom thought, he could sim ly say that some accident had ha ened. He could((He had *ust thought of something brilliant8 he could become 2ickie Greenleaf himself. He could do everything that 2ickie did. He could go back to ,ongibello first and collect 2ickie's things, tell ,arge any damned story, set u an a artment in #ome or 'aris, receive 2ickie's cheque every month and forge 2ickie's signature on it. He could ste right into 2ickie's shoes. He could have ,r Greenleaf, $r, eating out of his hand. The danger of it, even the inevitable tem orariness of it which he vaguely realised, only made him more enthusiastic. He began to think of how. The water. 3ut 2ickie was such a good swimmer. The cliffs. .t would be easy to ush 2ickie off some cliff when they took a walk, but he imagined 2ickie grabbing at him and ulling him off with him, and he tensed in his seat until his thighs ached and his nails cut red scallo s in his thumbs. He would have to get the other ring off, too. He would have to tint his hair a little lighter. 3ut he wouldn't live in a lace, of course, where anybody who knew 2ickie lived. He had only to look enough like 2ickie to be able to use his ass ort. )ell, he did. .f he ( 2ickie o ened his eyes, looking right at him, and Tom rela1ed, slum ed into the corner with his head back and his eyes shut, as quickly as if he had assed out. 'Tom, are you okay%' 2ickie asked, shaking Tom's knee. '&kay,' Tom said, smiling a little. He saw 2ickie sit back with an air of irritation, and Tom knew why: because 2ickie had hated giving him even that much attention. Tom smiled to himself, amused at his own quick refle1 in retending to colla se, because that had been the only
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way to kee 2ickie from seeing what must have been a very strange e1 ression on his face. $an #emo. "lowers. ! main drag along the beach again, sho s and stores and "rench and 4nglish and .talian tourists. !nother hotel, with flowers in the balconies. )here% .n one of these little streets tonight% The town would be dark and silent by one in the morning, if he could kee 2ickie u that long. .n the water% .t was slightly cloudy, though not cold. Tom racked his brain. .t would be easy in the hotel room, too, but how would he get rid of the body% The body had to disa ear, absolutely. That left only the water, and the water was 2ickie's element. There were boats, rowboats and little motor(boats, that eo le could rent down at the beach. .n each motor(boat, Tom noticed, was a round weight of cement attached to a line, for anchoring the boat. ')hat do you say we take a boat, 2ickie%' Tom asked, trying not to sound eager, though he did, and 2ickie looked at him, because he had not been eager about anything since they had arrived here. They were little blue(and(white and green(and(white motor( boats, about ten of them, lined u at the wooden ier, and the .talian was an1ious for customers because it was a chilly and rather gloomy morning. 2ickie looked out at the ,editerranean, which was slightly ha/y though not with a resage of rain. This was the kind of greyness that would not disa ear all day, and there would be no sun. .t was about ten(thirty((that la/y hour after breakfast, when the whole long .talian morning lay before them. ')ell, all right. "or an hour around the ort,' 2ickie said, almost immediately *um ing into a boat, and Tom could see from his little smile that he had done it before, that he was looking forward to remembering, sentimentally, other mornings or some other morning here, erha s with "reddie, or ,arge. ,arge's cologne bottle bulged the ocket of 2ickie's corduroy *acket. They had bought it a few minutes ago at a store very much like an !merican drugstore on the main drag. The .talian boat(kee er started the motor with a yanked string, asking 2ickie if he knew how to work it, and 2ickie said yes. !nd there was an oar, a single oar in the bottom of the boat, Tom saw. 2ickie took the tiller. They headed straight out from the town. 'Cool+' 2ickie yelled, smiling. His hair was blowing. Tom looked to right and left. ! vertical cliff on one side, very
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much like ,ongibello, and on the other a flatfish length of land fu//ing out in the mist that hovered over the water. &ffhand he couldn't say in which direction it was better to go. '2o you know the land around here%' Tom shouted over the roar of the motor. '-o e+' 2ickie said cheerfully. He was en*oying the ride. '.s that thing hard to steer%' '-ot a bit+ )ant to try it%' Tom hesitated. 2ickie was still steering straight out to the o en sea. '-o, thanks.' He looked to right and left. There was a sailboat off to the left. ')here're you going%' Tom shouted. '2oes it matter%' 2ickie smiled. -o, it didn't. 2ickie swerved suddenly to the right, so suddenly that they both had to duck and lean to kee the boat righted. ! wall oMN white s ray rose u on Tom's left, then gradually fell to show the em ty hori/on. They were streaking across the em ty water again, towards nothing. 2ickie was trying the s eed, smiling, his blue eyes smiling at the em tiness. '.n a little boat it always feels so much faster than it is+' 2ickie yelled. Tom nodded, letting his understanding smile s eak for him. !ctually, he was terrified. God only knew how dee the water was here. .f something ha ened to the boat suddenly, there wasn't a chance in the world that they could get back to shore, or at least that he could. 3ut neither was there a chance that anybody could see anything that they did here. 2ickie was swerving very slightly towards the right again, towards the long s it of fu//y grey land, but he could have hit 2ickie, s rung on him, or kissed him, or thrown him overboard, and nobody could have seen him at this distance. Tom was sweating, hot under his clothes, cold on his forehead. He felt afraid, but it was not of the water, it was of 2ickie. He knew that he was going to do it, that he would not sto himself now, maybe couldn't sto himself, and that he might not succeed. '0ou dare me to *um in%' Tom yelled, beginning to unbutton his *acket. 2ickie only laughed at this ro osal from him, o ening his mouth wide, kee ing his eyes fi1ed on the distance in front of the boat. Tom ke t on undressing. He had his shoes and socks off. <nder his trousers
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he wore his swimming trunks, like 2ickie. '.'ll go in if you will+' Tom shouted. ')ill you%' He wanted 2ickie to slow down. ')ill .% $ure+' 2ickie slowed the motor abru tly. He released the tiller and took off his *acket. The boat bobbed, losing its momentum. 'Come on,' 2ickie said, nodding at Tom's trousers that were still on. Tom glanced at the land. $an #emo was a blur of chalky white and ink. He icked u the oar, as casually as if he were laying with it between his knees, and when 2ickie was shoving his trousers down, Tom lifted the oar and came down with it on the to of 2ickie's head. 'Hey+' 2ickie yelled, scowling, sliding half off the wooden seat. His ale brows lifted in groggy sur rise. Tom stood u and brought the oar down again, shar ly, all his strength released like the sna of a rubber band. '"or God's sake+' 2ickie mumbled, glowering, fierce, though the blue eyes wobbled, losing consciousness. Tom swung a left(handed blow with the oar against the side of 2ickie's head. The edge of the oar cut a dull gash that filled with a line of blood as Tom watched. 2ickie was on the bottom of the boat, twisted, twisting. 2ickie gave a groaning roar of rotest that frightened Tom with its loudness and its strength. Tom hit him in the side of the neck, three times, cho ing strokes with the edge of the oar, as if the oar were an a1e and 2ickie's neck a tree. The boat rocked, and water s lashed over his foot that was braced on the gunwale. He sliced at 2ickie's forehead, and a broad atch of blood came slowly where the oar had scra ed. "or an instant Tom was aware of tiring as he raised and swung, and still 2ickie's hands slid towards him on the bottom of the boat. 2ickie's long legs straightened to thrust him forward. Tom got a bayonet gri on the oar and lunged its handle into 2ickie's side. Then the rostrate body rela1ed, lim and still. Tom straightened, getting his breath back ainfully. He looked around him. There were no boats, nothing, e1ce t far, far away a little white s ot cree ing from right to left a s eeding motor(boat heading for the shore. He sto ed and yanked at 2ickie's green ring. He ocketed it. The other ring was tighter, but it came off, over the bleeding scuffed knuckle. He looked in the trousers ockets. "rench and .talian coins. He left them. He took a keychain with three keys. Then he icked u 2ickie's *acket and took ,arge's cologne ackage out of the ocket. Cigarettes and 2ickie's silver lighter, a encil stub, the alligator wallet and several little cards in the inside breast ocket. Tom stuffed it all into
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his own corduroy *acket. Then he reached for the ro e that was tumbled over the white cement weight. The end of the ro e was tied to the metal ring at the row. Tom tried to untie it. .t was a hellish, water(soaked, immovable knot that must have been there for years. He banged at it with his fist. He had to have a knife. He looked at 2ickie. )as he dead% Tom crouched in the narrowing row of the boat, watching 2ickie for a sign of life. He was afraid to touch him, afraid to touch his chest or his wrist to feel a ulse. Tom turned and yanked at the ro e fren/iedly, until he realised that he was only making it tighter. His cigarette lighter. He fumbled for it in the ocket of his trousers on the bottom of the boat. He lighted it, then held a dry ortion of the ro e over its flame. The ro e was about an inch and a half thick. .t was slow, very slow, and Tom used the minutes to look all round him again. )ould the .talian with the boats be able to see him at this distance% The hard grey ro e refused to catch fire, only glowed and smoked a little, slowly arting, strand by strand. Tom yanked it, and his lighter went out. He lighted it again, and ke t on ulling at the ro e. )hen it arted, he loo ed it four times around 2ickie's bare ankles before he had time to feel afraid, and tied a huge, clumsy knot, overdoing it to make sure it would not come undone, because he was not very good at tying knots. He estimated the ro e to be about thirty(five or forty feet long. He began to feel cooler, and smooth and methodical. The cement weight should be *ust enough to hold a body down, he thought. The body might drift a little, but it would not come u to the surface. Tom threw the weight over. .t made a ker( lung and sank through the trans arent water with a wake of bubbles, disa eared, and sank and sank until the ro e drew taut on 2ickie's ankles, and by that time Tom had lifted the ankles over the side and was ulling now at an arm to lift the heaviest art, the shoulders, over the gunwale. 2ickie's lim hand was warm and clumsy. The shoulders stayed on the bottom of the boat, and when he ulled, the arm seemed to stretch like rubber, and the body not to rise at all. Tom got down on one knee and tried to heave him out over the side. .t made the boat rock. He had forgotten the water. .t was the only thing that scared him. He would have to get him out over the stern, he thought, because the stern was lower in the water. He ulled the lim body towards the stern, sliding the ro e along the gunwale. He could tell from the buoyancy of the weight in
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the water that the weight had not touched bottom. -ow he began with 2ickie's head and shoulders, turned 2ickie's body on its belly and ushed him out little by little. 2ickie's head was in the water, the gunwale cutting across his waist, and now the legs were in a dead weight, resisting Tom's strength with their ama/ing weight, as his shoulders had done, as if they were magnetised to the boat bottom. Tom took a dee breath and heaved. 2ickie went over, but Tom lost his balance and fell against the tiller. The idling motor roared suddenly. Tom made a lunge for the control lever, but the boat swerved at the same time in a cra/y arc. "or an instant he saw water underneath him and his own hand outstretched towards it, because he had been trying to grab the gunwale and the gunwale was no longer there. He was in the water. He gas ed, contracting his body in an u ward lea , grabbing at the boat. He missed. The boat had gone into a s in. Tom lea t again, then sank lower, so low the water closed over his head again with a deadly, fatal slowness, yet too fast for him to get a breath, and he inhaled a noseful of water *ust as his eyes sank below the surface. The boat was farther away. He had seen such s ins before8 they never sto ed until somebody climbed in and sto ed the motor, and now in the deadly em tiness of the water he suffered in advance the sensations of dying, sank threshing below the surface again, and the cra/y motor faded as the water thugged into his ears, blotting out all sound e1ce t the frantic sounds that he made inside himself, breathing, $truggling, the des erate ounding of his blood. He was u again and fighting automatically towards the boat, because it was the only thing that floated, though it was s inning and im ossible to touch, and its shar row whi ed ast him twice, three times, four, while he caught one breath of air. He shouted for hel . He got nothing but a mouthful of water. His hand touched the boat beneath the water and was ushed aside by the animal(like thrust of the row. He reached out wildly for the end of the boat, heedless of the ro eller's blades. His fingers felt the rudder. He ducked, but not in time. The keel hit the to of his head, assing over him. -ow the stern was close again, and he tried for it, fingers sli ing down off the rudder. His other hand caught the stern gunwale. He ke t an arm straight, holding his body away from the ro eller. )ith an un remeditated energy, he hurled himself towards a stern corner, and caught an arm over the side. Then he reached u and
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touched the lever. The motor began to slow. Tom clung to the gunwale with both hands, and his mind went blank with relief, with disbelief, until he became aware of the flaming ache in his throat, the stab in his chest with every breath. He rested for what could have been two or ten minutes, thinking of nothing at all but the gathering of strength enough to haul himself into the boat, and finally he made slow *um s u and down in the water and threw his weight over and lay face down in the boat, his feet dangling over the gunwale. He rested, faintly conscious of the sli eriness of 2ickie's blood under his fingers, a wetness mingled with the water that ran out of his own nose and mouth. He began to think before he could move, about the boat that was all bloody and could not be returned, about the motor that he would have to get u and start in a moment. !bout the direction. !bout 2ickie's rings. He felt for them in his *acket ocket. They were still there, and after all what could have ha ened to them% He had a fit of coughing, and tears blurred his vision as he tried to look all around him to see if any boat was near, or coming towards him. He rubbed his eyes. There was no boat e1ce t the gay little motor(boat in the distance, still dashing around in wide arcs, oblivious of him. Tom looked at the boat bottom. Could he wash it all out% 3ut blood was hell to get out, he had always heard. He had been going to return the boat, and say, if he were asked by the boat(kee er where his friend was, that he had set him ashore at some other oint. -ow that couldn't be. Tom moved the lever cautiously. The idling motor icked u and he was afraid even of that, but the motor seemed more human and manageable than the sea, and therefore less frightening. He headed obliquely towards the shore, north of $an #emo. ,aybe he could find some lace, some little deserted cove in the shore where he could beach the boat and get out. 3ut if they found the boat% The roblem seemed immense. He tried to reason himself back to coolness. His mind seemed blocked as to how to get rid of the boat. -ow he could see ine trees, a dry em ty(looking stretch of tan beach and the green fu// of a field of olive trees. Tom cruised slowly to right and left of the lace, looking for eo le. There were none, He headed in for the shallow, short beach, handling the throttle
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res ectfully, because he was not sure it wouldn't flare u again. Then he felt the scra e and *olt of earth under the row. He turned the lever to ''4#,!', and moved another lever that cut the motor. He got out cautiously into about ten inches of water, ulled the boat u as far as he could, then transferred the two *ackets, his sandals, and ,arge's cologne bo1 from the boat to the beach. The little cove where he was((not more than fifteen feet wide (gave him a feeling of safety and rivacy. There was not a sign anywhere that a human foot had ever touched the lace. Tom decided to try to scuttle the boat. He began to gather stones, all about the si/e of a human head because that was all he had the strength to carry, and to dro them one by one into the boat, but finally he had to use smaller stones because there were no more big ones near enough by. He worked without a halt, afraid that he would dro in a faint of e1haustion if he allowed himself to rela1 even for an instant,((and that he might lie there until he was found by somebody. )hen the stones were nearly level with the gunwale, he shoved the boat off and rocked it, more and more, until water slo ed in at the sides. !s the boat began to sink, he gave it a shove towards dee er water, shoved and walked with it until the water was u to his waist, and the boat sank below his reach. Then he loughed his way back to the shore and lay down for a while, face down on the sand. He began to lan his return to the hotel, and his story, and his ne1t moves8 leaving $an #emo before nightfall, getting back to ,ongibello. !nd the story there.
1C !T sundown, *ust the hour when the .talians and everybody else in the village had gathered at the sidewalk tables of the cafes, freshly showered and dressed, staring at everybody and everything that assed by, eager for whatever entertainment the town could offer, Tom walked into the village wearing only his swimming shorts and sandals and 2ickie's corduroy *acket, and carrying his slightly bloodstained trousers and *acket under his arm. He walked with a
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languid casualness because he was e1hausted, though he ke t his head u for the benefit of the hundreds of eo le who stared at him as he walked ast the cafGHs, the only route to his beachfront hotel. He had fortified himself with five es ressos full of sugar and three brandies at a bar on the road *ust outside $an #emo. -ow he was laying the role of an athletic young man who had s ent the afternoon in and out of the water because it was his eculiar taste, being a good swimmer and im ervious to cold, to swim until late afternoon on a chilly day. He made it to the hotel, collected the key at the desk, went u to his room and colla sed on the bed. He would allow himself an hour to rest, he thought, but he must not fall aslee lest he slee longer. He rested, and when he felt himself falling aslee , got u and went to the basin and wet his face, took a wet towel back to his bed to waggle in his hand to kee from falling aslee . "inally he got u and went to work on the blood smear on one leg of his corduroy trousers. He scrubbed it over and over with soa and a nailbrush, got tired and sto ed for a while to ack the suitcase. He acked 2ickie's things *ust as 2ickie had always acked them, tooth aste and toothbrush in the back left ocket. Then he went back to finish the trouser leg. His own *acket had too much blood on it ever to be worn again, and he would have to get rid of it, but he could wear 2ickie's *acket, because it was the same beige colour and almost identical in si/e. Tom had had his suit co ied from 2ickie's, and it had been made by the same tailor in ,ongibello. He ut his own *acket into the suitcase. Then he went down with the suitcase and asked for his bill. The man behind the desk asked where his friend was, and Tom said he was meeting him at the railroad station. The clerk was leasant and smiling, and wished Tom '3uon' viaggioF. Tom sto ed in at a restaurant two streets away and forced himself to eat a bowl of minestrone for the strength it would give him. He ke t an eye out for the .talian who owned the boats. The main thing, he thought, was to leave $an #emo tonight, take a ta1i to the ne1t town, if there was no train or bus. There was a train south at ten twenty(four, Tom learned at the railroad station. ! slee er. )ake u tomorrow in #ome, and change trains for -a les. .t seemed absurdly sim le and easy suddenly, and in a burst of self(assurance he thought of going to ''aris for a few days. '$ etta un momento,' he said to the clerk who was ready to hand
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him his ticket. Tom walked around his suitcase, thinking of 'aris. &vernight. 5ust to see it, for two days, for instance. .t wouldn't matter whether he told ,arge or not. He decided abru tly against 'aris. He wouldn't be able to rela1. He was too eager to get to ,ongibello and see about 2ickie's belongings. The white, taut sheets of his berth on the train seemed the most wonderful lu1ury he had ever known. He caressed them with his hands before he turned the light out. !nd the clean blue(grey blankets, the s anking efficiency of the little black net over his head((Tom had an esctatic moment when he thought of all the leasures that lay before him now with 2ickie's money, other beds, tables, seas, shi s, suitcases, shirts, years of freedom, years of leasure. Then he turned the light out and ut his head down and almost at once fell aslee , ha y, content, and utterly confident, as he had never been before in his life. .n -a les he sto ed in the men's room of the railway station and removed 2ickie's toothbrush and hairbrush from the suitcase, and rolled them u in 2ickie's raincoat together with his own corduroy *acket and 2ickie's blood s otted trousers. He took the bundle across the street from the station and ressed it into a huge burla of garbage that leaned against an alley wall. Then he breakfasted on caffe latte and a sweet roll at a cafGH on the bus(s ot square, and boarded the old eleven o'clock bus for ,ongibello. He ste ed off the bus almost squarely in front of ,arge, who was in her bathing suit and the loose white *acket she always wore to the beach. ')here's 2ickie%' she asked. 'He's in #ome.' Tom smiled easily, absolutely re ared. 'He's staying u there for a few days. . came down to get some of his stuff to take u to him.' '.s he staying with somebody%' '-o, *ust in a hotel.' )ith another smile that was half a goodbye, Tom started u the hill with his suitcase. ! moment later he heard ,arge's cork(soled sandals trotting after him. Tom waited. 'How's everything been in our home sweet home%' he asked. '&h, dull. !s usual.' ,arge smiled. $he was ill at ease with him. 3ut she followed him into the house((the gate was unlocked, and Tom got the big iron key to the terrace door from its usual lace, back of a rotting wooden tub that held earth and a half(dead shrub((and they went on to the terrace together. The table had been moved a little.
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There was a book on the glider. ,arge had been here since they left, Tom thought. He had been gone only three days and nights8 .t seemed to him that he had been away for a month. 'How's $ki y%' Tom asked brightly, o ening the refrigerator, getting out an ice tray. $ki y was a stray dog ,arge had acquired a few days ago, an ugly black(and(white bastard that ,arge am ered and fed like a doting old maid. 'He went off. . didn't e1 ect him to stay.' '&h.' '0ou look like you've had a good time,' ,arge said, a little wistfully. ')e did.' Tom smiled. 'Can . fi1 you a drink%' '-o, thanks. How long do you think 2ickie's going to be away%' ')ell (' Tom frowned thoughtfully. '. don't really know. He says he wants to see a lot of art shows u there. . think he's *ust en*oying a change of scene.' Tom oured himself a generous gin and added soda and a lemon slice. '. su ose he'll be back in a week. 3y the way+' Tom reached for the suitcase, and took out the bo1 of cologne. He had removed the sho 's wra ing a er, because it had had blood smears on it. '0our $tradivari. )e got it in $an #emo.' '&h, thanks((very much.' ,arge took it, smiling, and began to o en it, carefully, dreamily. Tom strolled tensely around the terrace with his drink, not saying a word to ,arge, waiting for her to go. ')ell((' ,arge said finally, coming out on the terrace. 'How long are you staying%' ')here.' 'Here.' '5ust overnight. .'ll be going u to #ome tomorrow. 'robably in the afternoon,' he added, because he couldn't get the mail tomorrow until erha s after two. '. don't su ose .'ll see you again, unless you're at the beach,' ,arge said with an effort at friendliness. 'Have a good time in case . don't see you. !nd tell 2ickie to write a ostcard. )hat hotel is he staying at%' '&h((uh((what's the name of it% -ear the 'ia//a di $ agna%' 'The lnghilterra%' 'That's it. 3ut . think he said to use the !merican 41 ress as a mailing address.' $he wouldn't try to tele hone 2ickie, Tom thought. !nd he could be at the hotel tomorrow to ick u a letter if she wrote.
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'.'ll robably go down to the beach tomorrow morning,' Tom said. '!ll right. Thanks for the cologne.' '2on't mention it+' $he walked down the ath to the iron gate, and out. Tom icked u the suitcase and ran u stairs to 2ickie's bedroom. He slid 2ickie's to drawer out8 letters, two address books, a cou le of little notebooks, a watchchain, loose keys, and some kind of insurance olicy. He slid the other drawers out, one by one, and left them o en. $hirts, shorts, folded sweaters and disordered socks. .n the corner of the room a slo y mountain of ortfolios and old drawing ads. There was a lot to be done. Tom took off all his clothes, ran downstairs naked and took a quick, cool shower, then ut on 2ickie's old white duck trousers that were hanging on a nail in the closet. He started with the to drawer, for two reasons8 the recent letters were im ortant in case there were current situations that had to be taken care of immediately and also because, in case ,arge ha ened to come back this afternoon, it wouldn't look as if he were dismantling the entire house so soon. 3ut at least he could begin, even this afternoon, acking 2ickie's biggest suitcase with his best clothes, Tom thought. Tom was still ottering about the house at midnight. 2ickie's suitcases were acked, and now he was assessing how much the house furnishings were worth, what he would bequeath to ,arge, and how he would dis ose of the rest. ,arge could have the damned refrigerator. That ought to lease her. The heavy carved chest in the foyer, which 2ickie used for his linens, ought to be worth several hundred dollars, Tom thought. 2ickie had said it was four hundred years old, when Tom had asked him about it. Cinquencento. He intended to s eak to $ignor 'ucci, the assistant manager of the ,iramare, and ask him to act as agent for the sale of the house and the furniture. !nd the boat, too. 2ickie had told him that $ignor 'ucci did *obs like that for residents of the village. He had wanted to take all of 2ickie's ossessions straight away to #ome, but in view of what ,arge might think about his taking so much for resumably such a short time, he decided it would be better to retend that 2ickie had later made a decision to move to #ome. !ccordingly, Tom went down to the ost office around three the ne1t afternoon, claimed one interesting letter for 2ickie from a friend in !merica and nothing for himself, but as he walked slowly back to the
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house again he imagined that he was reading a letter from 2ickie. He imagined the e1act words, so that he could quote them to ,arge, if he had to, and he even made himself feel the slight sur rise he would have felt at 2ickie's change of mind. !s soon as he got home he began acking 2ickie's best drawings and best linens into the big cardboard bo1 he had gotten from !ldo at the grocery store on the way u the hill. He worked calmly and methodically, e1 ecting ,arge to dro in at any minute, but it was after four before she came. '$till here%' she asked as she came into 2ickie's room. '0es. . had a letter from 2ickie today. He's decided he's going to move to #ome.' Tom straightened u and smiled a little, as if it were a sur rise to him, too. 'He wants me to ick u all his things, all . can handle.' ',ove to #ome% "or how long%' '. don't know. The rest of the winter a arently, anyway. Tim went on tying canvasses. 'He's not coming back all winter%' ,arge's voice sounded lost already. '-o. He said he might even sell the house. He said he hadn't decided yet.' 'Gosh+(()hat ha ened%' Tom shrugged. 'He a arently wants to s end the winter in #ome. He said he was going to write to you. . thought you might have got a letter this afternoon, too.' '-o.' $ilence. Tom ke t on working. .t occurred to him that he hadn't acked u his own things at all. He hadn't even been into his room. 'He's still going to Cortina, isn't he%' ,arge asked. '-o, he's not. He said he was going to write to "reddie and cancel it. 3ut that shouldn't revent your going.' Tom watched her. '3y the way, 2ickie said he wants you to take the refrigerator. 0ou can robably get somebody to hel you move it.' The resent of the refrigerator had no effect at all on ,arge's stunned face. Tom knew she was wondering whether he was going to live with 2ickie or not, and that she was robably concluding, because of his cheerful manner, that he was going to live with him. Tom felt the question cree ing u to her li s((she was as trans arent as a child to him((then she asked8 '!re you going to stay with him in
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#ome%' ',aybe for a while. .'ll hel him get settled. . want to go to 'aris this month, then . su ose around the middle of 2ecember .'ll be going back to the $tates.' ,arge looked crestfallen. Tom knew she was imagining the lonely weeks ahead (even if 2ickie did make eriodic little visits to ,ongibello to see her((the em ty $unday mornings, the lonely dinners. ')hat's he going to do about Christmas% 2o you think he wants to have it here or in #ome%' Tom said with a trace of irritation, ')ell, . don't think here. . have the feeling he wants to be alone.' -ow she was shocked to silence, shocked and hurt. )ait till she got the letter he was going to write from #ome, Tom thought. He'd be gentle with her, of course, as gentle as 2ickie, but there would be no mistaking that 2ickie didn't want to see her again. ! few minutes later, ,arge stood u and said good(bye in an absent(minded way. Tom suddenly felt that she might be going to tele hone 2ickie today. &r maybe even go u to #ome. 3ut what if she did% 2ickie could have changed his hotel. !nd there were enough hotels in #ome to kee her busy for days, even if she came to #ome to find him. )hen she didn't find him, by tele hone or by coming to #ome, she would su ose that he had gone to 'aris or to some other city with Tom #i ley. Tom glanced over the news a ers from -a les for an item about a scuttled boat's having been found near $an #emo. 3arca affondata vicino $an #emo, the ca tion would robably say. !nd they would make a great to(do over the bloodstains in the boat, if the bloodstains were still there. .t was the kind of thing the .talian news a ers loved to write u in their melodramatic *ournalese8 'Giorgio di $tefani, a young fisherman of $an #emo, yesterday at three o'clock in the afternoon made a most terrible discovery in two metres of water. ! little motor( boat, its interior covered with horrible bloodstains...' 3ut Tom did not see anything in the a er. -or had there been anything yesterday. .t might take months for the boat to be found, he thought. .t might never be found. !nd if they did find it, how could they know that 2ickie Greenleaf and Tom #i ley had taken the boat out together% They had not told their names to the .talian boat(kee er at $an #emo. The boat( kee er had given them only a little orange ticket which Tom had had in his ocket, and had later found and destroyed.
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Tom left ,ongibello by ta1i around si1 o'clock, after an es resso at Giorgio's, where he said good(bye to Giorgio, "austo, and several other village acquaintances of his and 2ickie's. To all of them he told the same story, that $igner Greenleaf was staying in #ome for the winter, and that he sent his greetings until he saw them again. Tom said that undoubtedly 2ickie would be down for a visit before long. He had had 2ickie's linens and aintings crated by the !merican 41 ress that afternoon, and the bo1es sent to #ome along with 2ickie's trunk and two heavier suitcases, to be claimed in #ome by 2ickie Greenleaf. Tom took his own two suitcases and one other of 2ickie's in the ta1i with him. He had s oken to $igner 'ucci at the ,iramare, and had said that there was a ossibility that $ignor Greenleaf would want to sell his house and furniture, and could $ignor 'ucci handle it% $ignor 'ucci had said he would be glad to. Tom had also s oken to 'ietro, the dock(kee er, and asked him to be on the lookout for someone who might want to buy the 'i istrello, because there was a good chance that $ignor Greenleaf would want to get rid of it this winter. Tom said that $ignor Greenleaf would let it go for five hundred thousand lire, hardly eight hundred dollars, which was such a bargain for a boat that sle t two eo le, 'ietro thought he could sell it in a matter of weeks. &n the train to #ome Tom com osed the letter to ,arge so carefully that he memorised it in the rocess, and when he got to the Hotel Hassler he sat down at 2ickie's Hermes 3aby, which he had brought in one of 2ickie's suitcases, and wrote the letter straight off. #ome 9E -ovember, 1O(( 2ear ,arge, .'ve decided to take an a artment in #ome for the winter, *ust to have a change of scene and get away from old ,ongy for a while. . feel a terrific urge to be by myself. .'m sorry it was so sudden and that . didn't get a chance to say good(bye, but actually .'m not far away, and . ho e .'ll be seeing you now and then. . *ust didn't feel like going to ack my stuff, so . threw the burden on Tom. !s to us, it can't harm anything and ossibly may im rove everything if we don't see each other for a while. . had a terrible feeling . was boring you, though you weren't boring me, and lease don't think . am running away from anything. &n the contrary, #ome
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should bring me closer to reality. ,ongy certainly didn't. 'art of my discontent was you. ,y going away doesn't solve anything, of course, but it will hel me to discover how . really feel about you. "or this reason, . refer not to see you for a while, darling, and . ho e you'll understand. .f you don't((well, you don't, and that's the risk . run. . may go u to 'aris for a cou le of weeks with Tom, as he's dying to go. That is, unless . start ainting right away. ,et a ainter named 2i ,assimo whose work . like very much, an old fellow without much money who seems to be very glad to have me as a student if . ay him a little bit. . am going to aint with him in his studio. The city looks marvellous with its fountains going all night and everybody u all night, contrary to old ,ongy. 0ou were on the wrong track about Tom. He's going back to the $tates soon and . don't care when, though he's really not a bad guy and . don't dislike him. He has nothing to do with us, anyway, and . ho e you realise that. )rite me cTo !merican 41 ress, #ome until . know where . am. $hall let you know when . find an a artment. ,eanwhile kee the home fires burning, the refrigerators working and your ty ewriter also. .'m terribly sorry about Umas, darling, but . don't think . should see you that soon, and you can hate me or not for that. !ll my love, 2ickie Tom had ke t his ca on since entering the hotel, and he had given 2ickie's ass ort in at the desk instead of his own, though hotels, he had noticed, never looked at the ass ort hoto, only co ied the ass ort number which was on the front cover. He had signed the register with 2ickie's hasty and rather flamboyant signature with the big loo ing ca itals # and G. )hen he went out to mail the letter he walked to a drugstore several streets away and bought a few items of make(u that he thought he might need. He had fun with the .talian salesgirl, making her think that he was buying them for his wife who had lost her make(u kit, and who was indis osed in the hotel with the usual u set stomach. He s ent that evening ractising 2ickie's signature for the bank cheques. 2ickie's monthly remittance was going to arrive from !merica in less than ten days.
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1I He moved the ne1t day to the Hotel 4uro a, a moderately riced hotel near the 6ia 6eneto, because the Hassler was a trifle flashy, he thought, the kind oMN hotel that was atronised by visiting movie eo le, and where "reddie ,iles, or eo le like him who knew 2ickie, might choose to stay if they came to #ome. Tom held imaginary conversations with ,arge and "austo "reddie in his hotel room. ,arge was the most likely to come to #ome, he thought. He s oke to her as 2ickie, if he imagined it on the tele hone, and as Tom, if he imagined her face to face with him. $he might, for instance, o u to #ome and find his hotel and insist on coming u to his room, in which case he would have to remove 2ickie's rings and change his clothing. '. don't know,' he would say to her in Tom's voice. '0ou low how he is((likes to feel he's getting away from everything, he said . could use his hotel room for a few days, because mine ha ens to be so badly heated... &h, he'll be back in a cou le of days, or there'll be a ostcard from him saying he's all right, he went to some little town with 2i ,assimo to look at some aintings in a church.' A'3ut you don't know whether he went north or south%'B '. really don't. . guess south. 3ut what good does that do us%' A'.t's *ust my bad luck to miss him, isn't it% )hy couldn't he at least have said where he was going%'B '. know. . asked him, too. 7ooked the room over for a ma or anything else that might have shown where he was going. He *ust called me u three days ago and said . could use his room if . cared to.' .t was a good idea to ractice *um ing into his own character again, because the time might come when he would need to in a matter of seconds, and it was strangely easy to forget the e1act timbre of Tom #i ley's voice. He conversed with ,arge until the sound of his own voice in his ears was e1actly the same as he remembered it. 3ut mostly he was 2ickie, discoursing in a low tone with "reddie
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and ,arge, and by long distance with 2ickie's mother, and with "austo, and with a stranger at a dinner arty, conversing in 4nglish and .talian, with 2ickie's ortable radio turned on so that if a hotel em loyee assed by in the hall and ha ened to know that $igner Greenleaf was alone he would not think him an eccentric. $ometimes, if the song on the radio was one that Tom liked, he merely danced by himself, but he danced as 2ickie would have with a girl((he had seen 2ickie once on Giorgio's terrace, dancing with ,arge, and also in the Giardino degli &rangi in -a les((in long strides yet rather stiffly, not what could be called e1actly good dancing. 4very moment to Tom was a leasure, alone in his room or walking the streets of #ome, when he combined sightseeing with looking around for an a artment. .t was im ossible ever to be lonely or bored, he thought, so long as he was 2ickie Greenleaf. They greeted him as $ignor Greenleaf at the !merican 41 ress, where he called for his mail. ,arge's first letter said8 2ickie, )ell, it was a bit of a sur rise. . wonder what came over you so suddenly in #ome or $an #emo or wherever it was% Tom was most mysterious e1ce t to say that he would be staying with you. .'ll believe he's leaving for !merica when . see it. !t the risk of sticking my neck out, old boy, may . say that . don't like that guy% "rom my oint of view or anybody else's he is using you for what you are worth. .f you want to make some changes for your own good, for gosh sakes get him away from you. !ll right, he may not be queer. He's *ust a nothing, which is worse. He isn't normal enough to have any kind of se1 life, if you know what . mean. However .'m not interested in Tom but in you. 0es, . can bear the few weeks without you, darling, and even Christmas, though . refer not to think of Christmas. . refer not to think about you and((as you said((let the feelings come or not. 3ut it's im ossible not to think of you here because every inch of the village is haunted with you as far as .'m concerned, and in this house, everywhere . look there is some sign of you, the hedge we lanted, the fence we started re airing and never finished, the books . borrowed from you and never returned. !nd your chair at the table, that's the worst. To continue with the neck(sticking, . don't say that Tom is going to do anything actively bad to you, but . know that he has a subtly bad
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influence on you. 0ou act vaguely ashamed of being around him when you are around him, do you know that% 2id you ever try to analyse it% . thought you were beginning to realise all this in the last few weeks, but now you're with him again and frankly, dear boy, . don't know what to make of it. .f you really 'don't care when' he takes off, for God's sake send him acking+ He'll never hel you or anybody else to get straightened out about anything. .n fact it's greatly to his interest to kee you muddled and string you along and your father too. Thanks loads for the cologne, darling. .'ll save it((or most of it((for when . see you ne1t. . haven't got the refrigerator over to my house yet. 0ou can have it, of course, any time you want it back. ,aybe Tom told you that $ki y ski ed out. $hould . ca ture a gecko and tie a string around its neck% . have to get to work on the house wall right away before it mildews com letely and colla ses on me. )ish you were here, darling((of course. 7ots of love and write, UU ,arge cTo !merican 41 ress
#ome 19 2ec. 1O(( 2ear ,other and 2ad, .'m in #ome looking for an a artment, though . haven't found e1actly what . want yet. ! artments here are either too big or too small, and if too big you have to shut off every room but one in winter in order to heat it ro erly anyway. .'m trying to get a medium(si/ed, medium( riced lace that . can heat com letely without s ending a fortune for it. $orry .'ve been so bad about letters lately. . ho e to do better with the quieter life .'m leading here. . felt . needed a change from ,ongibello((as you've both been saying for a long time((so .'ve moved bag and baggage and may even sell the house and the boat. .'ve
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met a wonderful ainter called 2i ,assimo who is willing to give me instruction in his studio. .'m going to work like bla/es for a few months and see what ha ens. ! kind of trial eriod. . realise this doesn't interest you, 2ad, but since you're always asking how . s end my time, this is how. '.'ll be leading a very quiet, studious life until ne1t summer. ! ro os of that, could you send me the latest folders from 3urke( Greenleaf% . like to kee u with what you're doing, too, and it's been a long time since .'ve seen anything. ,other, . ho e you haven't gone to great trouble for my Christmas. . don't really need anything . can think of. How are you feeling% !re you able to get out very much% To the theatre, etc.% How is <ncle 4dward now% $end him my regards and kee me osted. )ith love, 2ickie Tom read it over, decided there were robably too many commas, and rety ed it atiently and signed it. He had once seen a half(finished letter of 2ickie's to his arents in 2ickie's ty ewriter, and he knew 2ickie's general style. He knew that 2ickie had never taken more than ten minutes writing any letter. .f this letter was different, Tom thought, it could be different only in being a little more ersonal and enthusiastic than usual. He felt rather leased with the letter when he read it over for the second time. <ncle 4dward was a brother of ,rs Greenleaf, who was ill in an .llinois hos ital with some kind of cancer, Tom had learned from the latest letter to 2ickie from his mother. ! few days later he was off to 'aris by lane. He had called the .nghilterra before he left #ome8 no letters or hone calls for #ichard Greenleaf. He landed at &rly at five in the afternoon. The ass ort ins ector stam ed his ass ort after only a quick glance at him, though Tom had lightened his hair slightly with a ero1ide wash and had forced some waves into it, aided by hair oil, and for the ins ector's benefit he had ut on the rather tense, rather frowning e1 ression of 2ickie's ass ort hotogra h. Tom checked in at the Hotel du Puai( 6oltaire, which had been recommended to him by some !mericans with whom he had struck u an acquaintance at a #ome cafGH, as being conveniently located and not too full of !mericans. Then he went out for a stroll in the raw, foggy 2ecember evening. He walked with his head u and a smile on his face. .t was the atmos here of the
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city that he loved, the atmos here that he had always heard about, crooked streets, grey(fronted houses with skylights, noisy car horns, and everywhere ublic urinals and columns with brightly coloured theatre notices on them. He wanted to let the atmos here see in slowly, erha s for several days, before he visited the 7ouvre or went u in the 4iffel Tower or anything like that. He bought a "igaro, sat down at a table in the "lore, and ordered a fine GV l'eau, because 2ickie had once said that fine GV l'eau was his usual drink in "rance. Tom's "rench was limited, but so was 2ickie's, Tom knew. $ome interesting eo le stared at him through the glass(enclosed front of the cafGH, but no one came in to s eak to him. Tom was re ared for someone to get u from one of the tables at any moment, and come over and say, '2ickie Greenleaf+ .s it really you%' He had done so little artificially to change his a earance, but his very e1 ression, Tom thought, was like 2ickie's now. He wore a smile that was dangerously welcoming to a stranger, a smile more fit to greet an old friend or a lover. .t was 2ickie's best and most ty ical smile when he was in a good humour. Tom was in a good humour. .t was 'aris. )onderful to sit in a famous cafGH, and to think of tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow being 2ickie Greenleaf+ The cuff links, the white silk shirts, even the old clothes((the worn brown belt with the brass buckle, the old brown grain(leather shoes, the kind advertised in 'unch as lasting a lifetime, the old mustard(coloured coat sweater with the sagging ockets, they were all his and he loved them all. !nd the black fountain en with little gold initials. !nd the wallet, a well(worn alligator wallet from Gucci's. !nd there was lenty of money to go in it. 3y the ne1t afternoon he had been invited to a arty in the !venue ;lGHber by some eo le((a "rench girl and an !merican young man((with whom he had started a conversation in a large cafGH(restaurant on the 3oulevard $aint(Germain. The arty consisted of thirty or forty eo le, most of them middle(aged, standing around rather frigidly in a huge, chilly, formal a artment. .n 4uro e, Tom gathered, inadequate heating was a hallmark of chic in winter, like the iceless martini in summer. He had moved to a more e1 ensive hotel in #ome, finally, in order to be warmer, and had found that the more e1 ensive hotel was even colder. .n a gloomy, old(fashioned way the house was chic, Tom su osed. There were a butler and a maid, a vast table of atGHs en croGWte, sliced turkey, and etits fours, and quantities of cham agne, although the u holstery of the sofa and the
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long dra es at the windows were threadbare and rotting with age, and he had seen mouseholes in the hall by the elevator. !t least half a do/en of the guests he had been resented to were counts and countesses. !n !merican informed Tom that the young man and the girl who had invited him were going to be married, and that her arents were not enthusiastic. There was an atmos here of strain in the big room, and Tom made an effort to be as leasant as ossible to everyone, even the severe(looking "rench eo le to whom he could say little more than 'C'est trGHs agrGHable, n'est(ce as%' He did his very best, and won at least a smile from the "rench girl who had invited him. He considered himself lucky to be there. How many !mericans alone in 'aris could get themselves invited to a "rench home after only a week or so in the city% The "rench were es ecially slow in inviting strangers to their homes, Tom had always heard. -ot a single one of the !mericans seemed to know his name. Tom felt com letely comfortable, as he had never felt before at any arty that he could remember. He behaved as he had always wanted to behave at a arty. This was the clean slate he had thought about on the boat coming over from !merica, This was the real annihilation of his ast and of himself, Tom #i ley, who was made u of that ast, and his rebirth as a com letely new erson. &ne "renchwoman and two of the !mericans invited him to arties, but Tom declined with the same re ly to all of them8 'Thank you very much, but .'m leaving 'aris tomorrow.' .t wouldn't do to become too friendly with any of these, Tom thought. &ne of them might know somebody who knew 2ickie very well, someone who might be at the ne1t arty. !t eleven(fifteen, when he said good(bye to his hostess and to her arents, they looked very sorry to see him go. 3ut he wanted to be at -otre 2ame by midnight. .t was Christmas 4ve. The girl's mother asked his name again. ',onsieur Granelafe,' the girl re eated for her. '2eekie Granelafe. Correct%' 'Correct,' Tom said, smiling. 5ust as he reached the downstairs hall he remembered "reddie ,iles's arty at Cortina. 2ecember second. -early a month ago+ He had meant to write to "reddie to say that he wasn't coming. Had ,arge gone, he wondered% "reddie would think it very strange that he hadn't written to say he wasn't coming, and Tom ho ed ,arge had
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told "reddie, at least. He must write "reddie at once. There was a "lorence address for "reddie in 2ickie's address book. .t was a sli , but nothing serious, Tom thought. He *ust mustn't let such a thing ha en again. He walked out into the darkness and turned in the direction of the illuminated, bone(white !rc de Triom he. .t was strange to feel so alone, and yet so much a art of things, as he had felt at the arty. He felt it again, standing on the outskirts of the crowd that filled the square in front of -otre 2ame. There was such a crowd he couldn't ossibly have gone into the cathedral, but the am lifiers carried the music clearly to all arts of the square. "rench Christmas carols whose names he didn't know. '$ilent -ight'. ! solemn carol, and then a lively, babbling one. The chanting of male voices. "renchmen near him removed their hats. Tom removed his. He stood tall, straight, sober( faced, yet ready to smile if anyone had addressed him. He felt as he had felt on the shi , only more intensely, full of good will, a gentleman, with nothing in his ast to blemish his character. He was 2ickie, good( natured, naGXve 2ickie, with a smile for everyone and a thousand francs for anyone who asked him. !n old man did ask him for money as Tom was leaving the cathedral square, and he gave him a cris blue thousand(franc bill. The old man's face e1 loded in a smile, and he ti ed his hat. Tom felt a little hungry, though he rather liked the idea of going to bed hungry tonight. He would s end an hour or so with his .talian conversation book, he thought, then go to bed. Then he remembered that he had decided to try to gain about five ounds, because 2ickie's clothes were *ust a trifle loose on him and 2ickie looked heavier than he in the face, so he sto ed at a bar(tabac and ordered a ham sandwich on long crusty bread and a glass of hot milk, because a man ne1t to him at the counter was drinking hot milk. The milk was almost tasteless, ure and chastening, as Tom imagined a wafer tasted in church. He came down in a leisurely way from 'aris, sto ing overnight in 7yon and also in !ries to see the laces that 6an Gogh had ainted there. He maintained his cheerful equanimity in the face of atrociously bad weather. .n !ries, the rain borne on the violent mistral soaked him through as he tried to discover the e1act s ots where 6an Gogh had stood to aint from. He had bought a beautiful book of 6an Gogh re roductions in 'aris, but he could not take the book out in the rain,
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and he had to make a do/en tri s back to his hotel to verify the scenes. He looked over ,arseilles, found it drab e1ce t for the Cannebiere, and moved on eastward by train, sto ing for a day in $t Tro e/, Cannes, -ice, ,onte Carlo, all the laces he had heard of and felt such affinity for when he saw them, though in the month of 2ecember they were overcast by grey winter clouds, and the gay crowds were not there, even on -ew 0ear's 4ve in ,enton. Tom ut the eo le there in his imagination, men and women in evening clothes descending the broad ste s of the gambling alace in ,onte Carlo, eo le in bright bathing costumes, light and brilliant as a 2ufy watercolour, walking under the alms of the 3oulevard des !nglais at -ice. 'eo le((!merican, 4nglish, "rench, German, $wedish, .talian. #omance, disa ointment, quarrels, reconciliations, murder. The CGYte d'!/ur e1cited him as no other lace he had yet seen in the world e1cited him. !nd it was so tiny, really, this curve in the ,editerranean coastline with the wonderful names strung like beads((Toulon, "rGH*us, $t #afael, Cannes, -ice, ,enton, and then $an #emo. There were two letters from ,arge when he got back to #ome on the fourth of 5anuary. $he was giving u her house on the first of ,arch, she said. $he had not quite finished the first draft of her book, but she was sending three(quarters of it with all the hotogra hs to the !merican ublisher who had been interested in her idea when she wrote him about it last summer. $he wrote8 )hen am . going to see you% . hate assing u a summer in 4uro e after .'ve weathered another awful winter, but . think .'ll go home early in ,arch. 0es, .'m homesick, finally, really. 2arling, it would be so wonderful if we could go home on the same boat together. .s there a ossibility% . don't su ose there is. 0ou're not going back to the <. $. even for a short visit this winter% . was thinking of sending all my stuff Aeight ieces of luggage, two trunks, three bo1es of books and miscellaneous+B by slow boat from -a les and coming u through #ome and if you were in the mood we could at least go u the coast again and see "orte dei ,armi and 6iareggio and the other s ots we like((a last look. .'m not in the mood to care about the weather, which . know will be horrid. . wouldn't ask you to accom any me to ,arseille, where . catch the boat, but from Genoa%%% )hat do you think%...
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The other letter was more reserved. Tom knew why8 he had not sent her even a ostcard for nearly a month. $he said8 Have changed my mind about the #iviera. ,aybe this dam weather has taken away my enter rise or my book has. !nyway, .'m leaving for -a les on an earlier boat (the Constitution on 9E "eb. .magine((back to !merica as soon as . ste aboard. !merican food, !mericans, dollars for drinks and the horseraces((2arling. .'m sorry not to be seeing you, as . gather from your silence you still don't want to see me, so don't give it a thought Consider me off your hands. &f course . do ho e . see you again, in the $tates or anywhere else. $hould you ossibly be ins ired to make a tri down to ,ongy before the 9Eth, you know damned well you are welcome. !s ever, ,arge '.$. . don't even know if you're still in #ome. Tom could see her in tears as she wrote it. He had an im ulse to write her a very considerate letter, saying he had *ust come back from Greece, and had she gotten his two ostcards% 3ut it was safer, Tom thought, to let her leave without being sure where he was. He wrote her nothing. The only thing that made him uneasy, and that was not very uneasy, was the ossibility of ,arge's coming u to see him in #ome before he could get settled in an a artment. .f she combed the hotels she could find him, but she could never find him in an a artment. )ell( to(do !mericans didn't have to re ort their laces of residence at the questura, though, according to the sti ulation of the 'ermesso di $oggiorno, one was su osed to register every change of address with the olice. Tom had talked with an !merican resident of #ome who had an a artment and who had said he never bothered with the questura, and it never bothered him. .f ,arge did come u to #ome suddenly, Tom had a lot of his own clothing hanging ready in the closet. The only thing he had changed about himself, hysically, was his hair, but that could always be e1 lained as being the effect of the sun. He wasn't really worried. Tom had at first amused himself with an eyebrow encil((2ickie's eyebrows were longer and turned u a little
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at the outer edges((and with a touch of utty at the end of his nose to make it longer and more ointed, but he abandoned these as too likely to be noticed. The main thing about im ersonation, Tom thought, was to maintain the mood and tem erament of the erson one was im ersonating, and to assume the facial e1 ressions that went with them. The rest fell into lace. &n the tenth of 5anuary Tom wrote ,arge that he was back in #ome after three weeks in 'aris alone, that Tom had left #ome a month ago, saying he was going u to 'aris, and from there to !merica though he hadn't run into Tom in 'aris, and that he had not yet found an a artment in #ome but he was looking and would let her know his address as soon as he had one. He thanked her e1travagantly for the Christmas ackage8 she had sent the white sweater with the red 6 stri es that she had been knitting and trying on, 2ickie for si/e since &ctober, as well as an art book of quattrocento ainting and a leather shaving kit with his initials, H. #. G., on the lid. The ackage had arrived only on 5anuary si1th, which was the main reason for Tom's letter8 he didn't want her to think he hadn't claimed it, imagine that he had vanished into thin air, and then start a search for him. He asked if she had received a ackage from him% He had mailed it from 'aris, and he su osed it was late. He a ologised. He wrote8 .'m ainting again with 2i ,assimo and am reasonably leased. . miss you, too, but if you can still bear with my e1 eriment, .'d refer not to see you for several more weeks Aunless you do suddenly go home in "ebruary, which . still doubt+B by which time you may not care to see me again. #egards to Giorgio and wife and "austo if he's still there and 'ietro down at the dock... .t was a letter in the absent(minded and faintly lugubrious tone of all 2ickie's letters, a letter that could not be called warm or unwarm, and that said essentially nothing. !ctually he had found an a artment in a large a artment house in the 6ia .m eriale near the 'incian Gate, and had signed a year's lease for it, though he did not intend to s end most of his time in #ome, much less the winter. He only wanted a home, a base somewhere, after years of not having any. !nd #ome was chic. #ome was art of his new life. He wanted to be able to say in ,a*orca or !thens or Cairo or wherever he was8 '0es, . live in #ome. . kee an a artment there.' ';ee ' was the word for a artments among the international set. 0ou ke t an a artment in 4uro e the way you ke t a garage in
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!merica. He also wanted his a artment to be elegant, though he intended to have the minimum of eo le u to see him, and he hated the idea of having a tele hone, even an unlisted tele hone, but he decided it was more of a safety measure than a menace, so he had one installed. The a artment had a large living(room, a bedroom, a kind of sitting(room, kitchen, and bath. .t was furnished somewhat ornately, but it suited the res ectable neighbourhood and the res ectable life he intended to lead. The rent was the equivalent of a hundred and seventy(five dollars a month in winter including heat, and a hundred and twenty(five in summer. ,arge re lied with an ecstatic letter saying she had *ust received the beautiful silk blouse from 'aris which she hadn't e1 ected at all and it fitted to erfection. $he said she had had "austo and the Cecchis for Christmas dinner at her house and the turkey had been divine, with marrons and giblet gravy and lum udding and blah blah blah and everything but him. !nd what was he doing and thinking about% !nd was he ha ier% !nd that "austo would look him u on his way to ,ilan if he sent an address in the ne1t few days, otherwise leave a message for "austo at the !merican 41 ress, saying where "austo could find him. Tom su osed her good humour was due mostly to the fact that she now thought Tom had de arted for !merica via 'aris. !long with ,arge's letter came one from $igner 'ucci, saying that he had sold three ieces of his furniture for a hundred and fifty thousand lire in -a les, and that he had a ros ective buyer for the boat, a certain !nastasio ,artino of ,ongibello, who had romised to ay the first down ayment within a week, but that the house robably couldn't be sold until summer when the !mericans began coming in again. 7ess fifteen er cent for $igner 'ucci's commission, the furniture sale amounted to two hundred and ten dollars, and Tom celebrated that night by going to a #oman nightclub and ordering a su erb dinner which he ate in elegant solitude at a candlelit table for two. He did not at all mind dining and going to the theatre alone. .t gave him the o ortunity to concentrate on being 2ickie Greenleaf. He broke his bread as 2ickie did, thrust his fork into his mouth with his left hand as 2ickie did, ga/ed off at the other tables and at the dancers in such a rofound and benevolent trance that the waiter had to s eak to him a cou le of times to get his attention. $ome eo le waved to him from a table, and Tom recognised them as one of the !merican cou les he
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had met at the Christmas 4ve arty in 'aris. He made a sign of greeting in return. He even remembered their name, $ouders. He did not look at them again during the evening, but they left before he did and sto ed by his table to say hello. '!ll by yourself%' the man asked. He looked a little ti sy. '0es. . have a yearly date here with myself,' Tom re lied. '. celebrate a certain anniversary.' The !merican nodded a little blankly, and Tom could see that he was stymied for anything intelligent to say, as uneasy as any small(town !merican in the resence of cosmo olitan oise and sobriety, money and good clothes, even if the clothes were on another !merican. '0ou said you were living in #ome, didn't you%' his wife asked. '0ou know, . think we've forgotten your name, but we remember you very well from Christmas 4ve.' 'Greenleaf,' Tom re lied. '#ichard Greenleaf.' '& !h, yes+' she said, relieved. '2o you have an a artment here%' $he was all ready to take down his address in her memory. Tm staying at a. hotel at the moment, but .'m lanning to move into an a artment any day, as soon as the decorating's finished. .'m at the 4liseo. )hy don't you give me a ring%' ')e'd love to. )e're on our way to ,a*orca in three more days, but that's lenty of time+' '7ove to see you,' Tom said. '3uona sera+' !lone again, Tom returned to his rivate reveries. He ought to o en a bank account for Tom #i ley, he thought, and from time to time ut a hundred dollars or so into it. 2ickie Greenleaf had two banks, one in -a les and one in -ew 0ork, with about five thousand dollars in each account. He might o en the #i ley account with a cou le of thousand, and ut into it the hundred and fifty thousand lire from the ,ongibello furniture. !fter all, he had two eo le to take care of.
1>
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He visited the Ca itoline and the 6illa 3orghese, e1 lored the "orum thoroughly, and took si1 .talian lessons from an old man in his neighbourhood who had a tutoring sign in his window, and to whom Tom gave a false name. !fter the si1th lesson, Tom thought that his .talian was on a ar with 2ickie's. He remembered verbatim several sentences that 2ickie had said at one time or another which he now knew were incorrect. "or e1am le, 'Ho aura che non c'e arivata, Giorgio,' one evening in Giorgio's, when they had been waiting for ,arge and she had been late. .t should have been 'sia arrivata' in the sub*unctive after an e1 ression of fearing. 2ickie had never used the sub*unctive as often as it should be used in .talian. Tom studiously ke t himself from learning the ro er uses of sub*unctive. Tom bought dark red velvet for the dra es in his living(room, because the dra es that had come with the a artment offended him. )hen he had asked $ignora 3uffi, the wife of the house su erintendent, if she knew of a seamstress who could make them u , $ignora 3uffi had offered to make them herself. Her rice was two thousand lire, hardly more than three dollars. Tom forced her to take five thousand. He bought several minor items to embellish his a artment, though he never asked anyone u ((with the e1ce tion of one attractive but not very bright young man, an !merican, whom he had met in the CafGH Greco when the young man had asked him how to get to the Hotel 41celsior from there. The 41celsior was on the way to Tom's house, so Tom asked him to come u for a drink. Tom had only wanted to im ress him for an hour and then say good(bye to him forever, which he did, after serving him his best brandy and strolling about his a artment discoursing on the leasure of life in #ome. The young man was leaving for ,unich the following day. Tom carefully avoided the !merican residents of #ome who might e1 ect him to come to their arties and ask them to his in return, though he loved to chat with !mericans and .talians in the CafGH Greco and in the students' restaurants in the 6ia ,argutta. He told his name only to an .talian ainter named Carlino, whom he met in a 6ia ,argutta tavern, told him also that he ainted and was studying with a ainter called 2i ,assimo. .f the olice ever investigated 2ickie's activities in #ome, erha s long after 2ickie had disa eared and become Tom #i ley again, this one .talian ainter could be relied u on to say that he knew 2ickie Greenleaf had been ainting in #ome in 5anuary. Carlino had never heard of 2i ,assimo, but Tom described
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him so vividly that Carlino would robably never forget him. He felt alone, yet not at all lonely. .t was very much like the feeling on Christmas 4ve in 'aris, a feeling that everyone was watching him, as if he had an audience made u of the entire world, a feeling that ke t him on his mettle, because to make a mistake would be catastro hic. 0et he felt absolutely confident, he would not make a mistake. .t gave his e1istence a eculiar, delicious atmos here of urity, like that, Tom thought, which a fine actor robably feels when he lays an im ortant role on a stage with the conviction that the role he is laying could not be layed better by anyone else. He was himself((and yet not himself. He felt blameless and free, des ite the fact that he consciously controlled every move he made. 3ut he no longer felt tired after several hours of it, as he had at first. He had no need to rela1 when he was alone. -ow, from the moment when he got out of bed and went to brush his teeth, he was 2ickie, brushing his teeth with his elbow *utted out, 2ickie rotating the eggshell on his s oon for the last bite, 2ickie invariably utting back the first tie he ulled off the rack and selecting a second. He had even roduced a ainting in 2ickie's manner. 3y the end of 5anuary Tom thought that "austo must have come and gone through #ome, though ,arge's last letters had not mentioned him. ,arge wrote, care of the !merican 41 ress, about once a week. $he asked if he needed any socks or a muffler, because she had lenty of time to knit, besides working on her book. $he always ut in a funny anecdote about somebody they knew in the village, *ust so 2ickie wouldn't think she was eating her heart out for him, though obviously she was, and obviously she wasn't going to leave for the $tates in "ebruary without making another des erate try for him in erson, Tom thought, hence the investments of the long letters and the knitted socks and muffler which Tom knew were coming, even though he hadn't re lied to her letters. Her letters re elled him. He disliked even touching them, and after he glanced through them he tore them u and dro ed them into the garbage. He wrote finally8 "m giving u the idea of an a artment in #ome for the time being. 2i ,assimo is going to $icily for several months, and . may go with him and go on somewhere from there. ,y lans are vague, but they have the virtue of freedom and they suit my resent mood. 2on't send me any socks, ,arge. . really don't need a thing. )ish
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you much luck with ',ongibello'. He had a ticket for ,a*orca((by train to -a les, then the boat from -a les to 'alma over the night of 5anuary thirty(first and "ebruary first. He had bought two new suitcases from Gucci's, the best leather goods store in #ome, one a large, soft suitcase of antelo e hide, the other a neat tan canvas with brown leather stra s. 3oth bore 2ickie's initials. He had thrown the shabbier of his own two suitcases away, and the remaining one he ke t in the closet of his a artment, full of his own clothes, in case of emergency. 3ut Tom was not e1 ecting any emergencies. The scuttled boat in $an #emo had never been found. Tom looked through the a ers every day for something about it. )hile Tom was acking his suitcases one morning his doorbell rang. He su osed it was a solicitor of some kind, or a mistake. He had no name on his doorbell, and he had told the su erintendent that he did not want his name on the doorbell because he didn't like eo le to dro in on him. .t rang for the second time, and Tom still ignored it, and went on with his lackadaisical acking. He loved to ack, and he took a long time about it, a whole day or two days, laying 2ickie's clothes affectionately into suitcases, now and then trying on a good( looking shirt or a *acket in front of the mirror. He was standing in front of the mirror, buttoning a blue(and(white sea(horse( atterned s ort shirt of 2ickie's that he had never worn, when there came a knock at his door. .t crossed his mind that it might be "austo, that it would be *ust like "austo to hunt him down in #ome and try to sur rise him. That was silly, he told himself. 3ut his hands were cool with sweat as he went to the door. He felt faint, and the absurdity of his faintness, lus the danger of keeling over and being found rostrate on the floor, made him wrench the door o en with both hands, though he o ened it only a few inches. 'Hello+F the !merican voice said out of the semi(darkness of the hall. '2ickie% .t's "reddie+' Tom took a ste back, holding the door o en. 'He's(()on't you come in% He's not here right now. He should be back in a little later.' "reddie ,iles came in, looking around. His ugly, freckled face gawked in every direction. How in hell had he found the lace, Tom wondered. Tom sli ed his rings off quickly and ocketed them. !nd what else% He glanced around the room. '0ou're staying with him%' "reddie asked with that walleyed stare
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that made his face look idiotic and rather scared. '&h, no. .'m *ust staying here for a few hours,' Tom said, casually removing the seahorse shirt. He had another shirt on under it. '2ickie's out for lunch. &tello's, . think he said. He should be back around three at the latest.' &ne of the 3uffis must have let "reddie in, Tom thought, and told him which bell to ress, and told him $igner Greenleaf was in, too. "reddie had robably said he was an old friend of 2ickie's. -ow he would have to get "reddie out of the house without running into $ignora 3uffi downstairs, because she always sang out, '3uon' giorno, $igner Greenleaf+' '. met you in ,ongibello, didn't .%' "reddie asked. '!ren't you Tom% . thought you were coming to Cortina.' '. couldn't make it, thanks. How was Cortina%' '&h, fine. )hat ha ened to 2ickie%' '2idn't he write to you% He decided to s end the winter in #ome. He told me he'd written to you.' '-ot a word((unless he wrote to "lorence. 3ut . was in $al/burg, and he had my address.' "reddie half sat on Tom's long table, rum ling the green silk runner. He smiled. ',arge told me he'd moved to #ome, but she didn't have any address e1ce t the !merican 41 ress. .t was only by the damnedest luck . found his a artment. . ran into somebody at the Greco last night who *ust ha ened to know his address. )hat's this idea of (' ')ho%' Tom asked. '!n !merican%' '-o, an .talian fellow. 5ust a young kid.' "reddie was looking at Tom's shoes. '0ou've got the same kind of shoes 2ickie and . have. They wear like iron, don't they% . bought my air in 7ondon eight years ago.' They were 2ickie's grain(leather shoes. 'These came from !merica,' Tom said. 'Can . offer you a drink or would you rather try to catch 2ickie at &tello's% 2o you know where it is% There's not much use in your waiting, because he generally takes till three with his lunches. .'m going out soon myself.' "reddie had strolled towards the bedroom and sto ed, looking at the suitcases on the bed. '.s 2ickie leaving for somewhere or did he *ust get here%' "reddie asked, turning. 'He's leaving. 2idn't ,arge tell you% He's going to $icily for a while.' ')hen%' Tomorrow. &r late tonight, .'m not quite sure.'
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'$ay, what's the matter with 2ickie lately%' "reddie asked, frowning. ')hat's the idea of all the seclusion%' 'He says he's been working retty hard this winter,' Tom said in an offhand tone. 'He seems to want rivacy, but as far as . know he's still on good terms with everybody, including ,arge.' "reddie smiled again, unbuttoning his big olo coat. 'He's not going to stay on good terms with me if he stands me u a few more times. !re you sure he's on good terms with ,arge% . got the idea from her that they'd had a quarrel. . thought maybe that was why they didn't go to Cortina.' "reddie looked at him e1 ectantly. '-ot that . know of.' Tom went to the closet to get his *acket, so that "reddie would know he wanted to leave, then realised *ust in time that the grey flannel *acket that matched his trousers might be recognisable as 2ickie's, if "reddie knew 2ickie's suit. Tom reached for a *acket of his own and for his own overcoat that were hanging at the e1treme left of the closet. The shoulders of the overcoat looked as if the coat had been on a hanger for weeks, which it had. Tom turned around and saw "reddie staring at the silver identification bracelet on his left wrist. .t was 2ickie's bracelet, which Tom had never seen him wearing, but had found in 2ickie's studbo1. "reddie was looking at it as if he had seen it before. Tom ut on his overcoat casually. "reddie was looking at him now with a different e1 ression, with a little sur rise. Tom knew what "reddie was thinking. He stiffened, sensing danger. 0ou're not out of the woods yet, he told himself. 0ou're not out of the house yet. '#eady to go%' Tom asked. '0ou do live here, don't you%' '-o+' Tom rotested, smiling. The ugly, freckle(blotched face stared at him from under the garish thatch of red hair. .f they could only get out without running into $ignora 3uffi downstairs, Tom thought. '7et's go.' '2ickie's loaded you u with all his *ewellery, . see.' Tom couldn't think of a single thing to say, a single *oke to make. '&h, it's a loan,' Tom said in his dee est voice. '2ickie got tired of wearing it, so he told me to wear it for a while.' He meant the identification bracelet, but there was also the silver cli on his tie, he realised, with the G on it. Tom had bought the tie(cli himself. He could feel the belligerence growing in "reddie ,iles as surely as if his huge body were generating a heat that he could feel across the room.
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"reddie was the kind of o1 who might beat u somebody he thought was a ansy, es ecially if the conditions were as ro itious as these. Tom was afraid of his eyes. '0es, .'m ready to go,' "reddie said grimly, getting u . He walked to the door and turned with a swing of his broad shoulders. That's the &tello not far from the .nghilterra%' '0es,' Tom said. 'He's su osed to be there by one o'clock.' "reddie nodded. '-ice to see you again,' he said un leasantly, and closed the door. Tom whis ered a curse. He o ened the door slightly and listened to the quick ta (ta ((ta (ta of "reddie's shoes descending the stairs. He wanted to make sure "reddie got out without s eaking to one of the 3uffis again. Then he heard "reddie's '3uon' giorno, signora.' Tom leaned over the stairwell. Three storeys down, he could see art of "reddie's coatsleeve. He was talking in .talian with $ignora 3uffi. The woman's voice came more clearly. '... only $ignor Greenleaf,' she was saying. '-o, only one... $igner Chi%... -o, signer... . do not think he has gone out today at all, but . could be wrong+' $he laughed. Tom twisted the stair rail in his hands as if it were "reddie's neck. Then Tom heard "reddie's footste s running u the stairs. Tom ste ed back into the a artment and closed the door. He could go on insisting that he didn't live here, that 2ickie was at &tellq's, or that he didn't know where 2ickie was, but "reddie wouldn't sto now until he had found 2ickie. &r "reddie would drag him downstairs and ask $ignora 3uffi who he was. "reddie knocked on the door. The knob turned. .t was locked. Tom icked u a heavy glass ash(tray. He couldn't get his hand across it, and he had to hold it by the edge. He tried to think *ust for two seconds more8 wasn't there another way out% )hat would he do with the body% He couldn't think. This was the only way out. He o ened the door with his left hand. His right hand with the ash(tray was drawn back and down. "reddie came into the room. '7isten, would you mind telling(' The curved edge of the ash(tray hit the middle of his forehead. "reddie looked da/ed. Then his knees bent and he went down like a bull hit between the eyes with a hammer. Tom kicked the door shut. He slammed the edge of the ash(tray into the back of "reddie's neck. He hit the neck again and again, terrified that "reddie might be only
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retending and that one of his huge arms might suddenly circle his legs and ull him down. Tom struck his head a glancing blow, and blood came. Tom cursed himself. He ran and got a towel from the bathroom and ut it under "reddie's head. Then he felt "reddie's wrist for a ulse. There was one, faint, and it seemed to flutter away as he touched it as if the ressure of his own fingers stilled it. .n the ne1t second it was gone. Tom listened for any sound behind the door. He imagined $ignora 3uffi standing behind the door with the hesitant smile she always had when she felt she was interru ting. 3ut there wasn't any sound. There hadn't been any loud sound, he thought, either from the ash(tray or when "reddie fell. Tom looked down at "reddie's mountainous form on the floor and he felt a sudden disgust and a sense of hel lessness. .t was only twelve(forty, hours until dark. He wondered if "reddie had eo le waiting for him anywhere% ,aybe in a car downstairs% He searched "reddie's ockets. ! wallet. The !merican ass ort in the inside breast ocket of the overcoat. ,i1ed .talian and some other kind of coins. ! keycase. There were two car keys on a ring that said ".!T. He searched the wallet for a licence. There it was, with all the articulars8 ".!T 1I?? nero((convertible((1OZZ. He could find it if it was in the neighbourhood. He searched every ocket, and the ockets in the buff(coloured vest, for a garage ticket, but he found none. He went to the front window, then nearly smiled because it was so sim le8 there stood the black convertible across the street almost directly in front of the house. He could not be sure, but he thought there was no one in it. He suddenly knew what he was going to do. He set about arranging the room, bringing out the gin and vermouth bottles from his liquor cabinet and on second thought the ernod because it smelled so much stronger. He set the bottles on the long table and mi1ed a martini in a tall glass with a cou le of ice cubes in it, drank a little of it so that the glass would be soiled, then oured some of it into another glass, took it over to "reddie and crushed his lim fingers around it and carried it back to the table. He looked at the wound, and found that it had sto ed bleeding or was sto ing and had not run through the towel on to the floor. He ro ed "reddie u against the wall, and oured some straight gin from the bottle down his throat. .t didn't go down very well, most of it went on to his shirtfront, but Tom didn't think the .talian olice would actually make a blood test to see how drunk
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"reddie had been. Tom let his eyes rest absently on "reddie's lim , messy face for a moment, and his stomach contracted sickeningly and he quickly looked away. He mustn't do that again. His head had begun ringing as if he were going to faint. That'd be a fine thing, Tom thought as he wobbled across the room towards the window, to faint now+ He frowned at the black car down below, and breathed the fresh air in dee ly. He wasn't going to faint, he told himself. He knew e1actly what he was going to do. !t the last minute, the ernod, for both of them. Two other glasses with their finger rints and ernod. !nd the ash(trays must be full. "reddie smoked Chesterfields. Then the ! ian )ay. &ne of those dark laces behind the tombs. There weren't any street lights for long stretches on the ! ian )ay. "reddie's wallet would be missing. &b*ective8 robbery. He had hours of time, but he didn't sto until the room was ready, the do/en lighted Chesterfields and the do/en or so 7ucky $trikes burnt down and stabbed out in the ash(trays, and a glass of ernod broken and only half cleaned u from the bathroom tiles, and the curious thing was that as he set his scene so carefully, he ictured having hours more time to clean it u ((say between nine this evening when the body might be found, and midnight, when the olice *ust might decide he was worth questioning, because somebody *ust might have known that "reddie ,iles was going to call on 2ickie Greenleaf today(( and he knew that he would have it all cleared u by eight o'clock, robably, because according to the story he was going to tell, "reddie would have left his house by seven Aas indeed "reddie was going to leave his house by sevenB, and 2ickie Greenleaf was a fairly tidy young man, even with a few drinks in him. 3ut the oint of the messy house was that the messiness substantiated merely for his own benefit the story that he was going to tell, and that therefore he had to believe himself. !nd he would still leave for -a les and 'alma at ten(thirty tomorrow morning, unless for some reason the olice detained him. .f he saw in the news a er tomorrow morning that the body had been found, and the olice did not try to contact him, it was only decent that he should volunteer to tell them that "reddie ,iles had been at his house until late afternoon, Tom thought. 3ut it suddenly occurred to him that a doctor might be able to tell that "reddie had been dead since noon. !nd he couldn't get "reddie out now, not in broad
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daylight. -o, his only ho e was that the body wouldn't be found for so many hours that a doctor couldn't tell e1actly how long he had been dead. !nd he must try to get out of the house without anybody seeing him((whether he could carry "reddie down with a fair amount of ease like a assed(out drunk or not((so that if he had to make any statement, he could say that "reddie left the house around four or five in the afternoon. He dreaded the five((or si1(hour wait until nightfall so much that for a few moments he thought he couldn't wait. That mountain on the floor+ !nd he hadn't wanted to kill him at all. .t had been so unnecessary, "reddie and his stinking, filthy sus icions. Tom was trembling, sitting on the edge of a chair cracking his knuckles. He wanted to go out and take a walk, but he was afraid to leave the body lying there. There had to be noise, of course, if he and "reddie were su osed to be talking and drinking all afternoon. Tom turned the radio on to a station that layed dance music. He could have a drink, at least. That was art of the act. He made another cou le of martinis with ice in the glass. He didn't even want it, but he drank it. The gin only intensified the same thoughts he had had. He stood looking down at "reddie's long, heavy body in the olo coat that was crum led under him, that he hadn't the energy or the heart to straighten out, though it annoyed him, and thinking how sad, stu id, clumsy, dangerous and unnecessary his death had been, and how brutally unfair to "reddie. &f course, one could loathe "reddie, too. ! selfish, stu id bastard who had sneered at one of his best friends(( 2ickie certainly was one of his best friends((*ust because he sus ected him of se1ual deviation. Tom laughed at that hrase 'se1ual deviation'. )here was the se1% )here was the deviation% He looked at "reddie and said low and bitterly8 '"reddie ,iles, you're a victim of your own dirty mind.'
1@ He waited after all until nearly eight, because around seven there
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were always more eo le coming in and out of the house than at other times. !t ten to eight, he strolled downstairs, to make sure that $ignora 3uffi was not ottering around in the hall and that her door was not o en, and to make sure there really was no one in "reddie's car, though he had gone down in the middle of the afternoon to look at the car and see if it was "reddie's. He tossed "reddie's olo coat into the back seat. He came back u stairs, knelt down and ulled "reddie's arm around his neck, set his teeth, and lifted. He staggered, *erking the flaccid weight higher on his shoulder. He had lifted "reddie earlier that afternoon, *ust to see if he could, and he had seemed barely able to walk two ste s in the room with "reddie's ounds ressing his own feet against the floor, and "reddie was e1actly as heavy now, but the difference was that he knew he had to get him out now. He let "reddie's feet drag to relieve some of his weight, managed to ull his door shut with his elbow, then began to descend the stairs. Halfway down the first flight, he sto ed, hearing someone come out of an a artment on the second floor. He waited until the erson had gone down the stairs and out the front door, then recommenced his slow, bum ing descent. He had ulled a hat of 2ickie's well down over "reddie's head so that the bloodstained hair would not show. &n a mi1ture of gin and ernod, which he had been drinking for the last hour, Tom had gotten himself to a recisely calculated state of into1ication in which he thought he could move with a certain nonchalance and smoothness and at the same time be courageous and even foolhardy enough to take chances without flinching. The first chance, the worst thing that could ha en, was that he might sim ly colla se under "reddie's weight before he got him to the car. He had sworn that he would not sto to rest going down the stairs. He didn't. !nd nobody else came out of any of the a artments, and nobody came in the front door. 2uring the hours u stairs, Tom had imagined so tortuously everything that might ha en(($ignora 3uffi or her husband coming out of their a artment *ust as he reached the bottom of the stairs, or himself fainting so that both he and "reddie would be discovered s rawled on the stairs together, or being unable to ick "reddie u again if he had to ut him down to rest((imagined it all with such intensity, writhing u stairs in his a artment, that to have descended all the stairs without a single one of his imaginings ha ening made him feel he was gliding down under a magical rotection of some kind, with ease in s ite of the mass on his shoulder.
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He looked out of the glass of the two front doors. The street looked normal8 a man was walking on the o osite sidewalk, but there was always someone walking on one sidewalk or the other. He o ened the first door with one hand, kicked it aside and dragged "reddie's body through. 3etween the doors, he shifted "reddie to the other shoulder, rolling his head under "reddie's body, and for a second a certain ride went through him at his own strength, until the ache in his rela1ing arm staggered him with its ain. The arm was too tired even to circle "reddie's body. He set his teeth harder and staggered down the four front ste s, banging his hi against the stone newel ost. ! man a roaching him on the sidewalk slowed his ste s as if he were going to sto , but he went on. .f anyone came over, Tom thought, he would blow such a breath of ernod in his face there wouldn't be any reason to ask what was the matter. 2amn them, damn them, damn them, he said to himself as he *olted down the kerb. 'assers(by, innocent assers(by. "our of them now. 3ut only two of them so much as glanced at him, he thought. He aused a moment for a car to ass. Then with a few quick ste s and a heave he thrust "reddie's head and one shoulder through the o en window of the car, far enough in that he could brace "reddie's body with his own body while he got his breath. He looked around, under the glow of light from the street lam across the street, into the shadows in front of his own a artment house. !t that instant the 3uffi's youngest son ran out of the door and down the sidewalk without looking in Tom's direction. Then a man crossing the street walked within a yard of the car with only a brief and faintly sur rised look at "reddie's bent figure, which did look almost natural now, Tom thought, ractically as if "reddie were only leaning into the car talking to someone, only he really didn't look quite natural, Tom knew. 3ut that was the advantage of 4uro e, he thought. -obody hel ed anybody, nobody meddled. .f this had been !merica ( 'Can . hel you%' a voice asked in .talian. '!h, no, no, gra/ie,' Tom re lied with drunken good cheer. '. know where he lives,' he added in mumbled 4nglish. The man nodded, smiling a little, too, and walked on. ! tall thin man in a thin overcoat, hatless, with a moustache. Tom ho ed he wouldn't remember. &r remember the car. Tom swung "reddie out on the door, ulled him around the door
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and on to the car seat, came around the car and ulled "reddie into the seat beside the driver's seat. Then he ut on the air of brown leather gloves he had stuck into his overcoat ocket. He ut "reddie's key into the dashboard. The car started obediently. They were off. 2own the hill to the 6ia 6eneto, ast the !merican 7ibrary, over to the 'ia//a 6ene/ia, ast the balcony on which ,ussolini used to stand to make his s eeches, ast the gargantuan 6ictor 4mmanuel ,onument and through the "orum, ast the Colosseum, a grand tour of #ome that "reddie could not a reciate at all. .t was *ust as if "reddie were slee ing beside him, as sometimes eo le did slee when you wanted to show them scenery. The 6ia ! ia !ntica stretched out before him, grey and ancient in the soft lights of its infrequent lam s. 3lack fragments of tombs rose u on either side of the road, silhouetted against the still not quite dark sky. There was more darkness than light. !nd only a single car ahead, coming this way. -ot many eo le chose to take a ride on such a bum y, gloomy road after dark in the month of 5anuary. 41ce t erha s lovers. The a roaching car assed him. Tom began to look around for the right s ot. "reddie ought to have a handsome tomb to lie behind, he thought. There was a s ot ahead with three or four trees near the edge of the road and doubtless a tomb behind them or art of a tomb. Tom ulled off the road by the trees and shut off his lights. He waited a moment, looking at both ends of the straight, em ty road. "reddie was still as lim as a rubber doll. )hat was all this about rigor mortis% He dragged the lim body roughly now, scra ing the face in the dirt, behind the last tree and behind the little remnant of tomb that was only a four(feet(high, *agged arc of wall, but which was robably a remnant of the tomb of a atrician, Tom thought, and quite enough for this ig. Tom cursed his ugly weight and kicked him suddenly in the chin. He was tired, tired to the oint of crying, sick of the sight of "reddie ,iles, and the moment when he could turn his back on him for the last time seemed never to come. There was still the Goddamned coat+ Tom went back on the car to get it. The ground was hard and dry, he noticed as he walked back, and should not leave any traces of his ste s. He flung the coat down beside the body and turned away quickly and walked back to the car on his numb, staggering legs, and turned the car around towards #ome again. !s he drove, he wi ed the outside of the car door with his gloved hand to get the finger rints off, the only lace he had touched the car
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before he ut his gloves on, he thought. &n the street that curved u to the !merican 41 ress, o osite the "lorida nightclub, he arked the car and got out and left it with the keys in the dashboard. He still had "reddie's wallet in his ocket, though he had transferred the .talian money to his own billfold and had burnt a $wiss twenty(franc note and some !ustrian schilling notes in his a artment. -ow he took the wallet out of his ocket, and as he assed a sewer grate he leaned down and dro ed it in. There were only two things wrong, he thought as he walked towards his house8 robbers would logically have taken the olo coat, because it was a good one, and also the ass ort, which was still in the overcoat ocket. 3ut not every robber was logical, he thought, maybe es ecially an .talian robber. !nd not every murderer was logical, either. His mind drifted back to the conversation with "reddie. '... an .talian fellow. 5ust a young kid...' $omebody had followed him home at some time, Tom thought, because he hadn't told anybody where he lived. .t shamed him. ,aybe two or three delivery boys might know where he lived, but a delivery boy wouldn't be sitting in a lace like the CafGH Greco. .t shamed him and made him shrink inside his overcoat. He imagined a dark, anting young face following him home, staring u to see which window had lighted u after he had gone in. Tom hunched in his overcoat and walked faster as if he were fleeing a sick, assionate ursuer.
1D Tom went out before eight in the morning to buy the a ers. There was nothing. They might not find him for days, Tom thought. -obody was likely to walk around an unim ortant tomb like the one he had ut "reddie behind. Tom felt quite confident of his safety, but hysically he felt awful. He had a hangover, the terrible, *um y kind that made him sto halfway in everything he began doing, even sto halfway in brushing his teeth to go and see if his train really left at ten(thirty or at ten(forty(five. .t left at ten(thirty.
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He was com letely ready by nine, dressed and with his overcoat and raincoat out on the bed. He had even s oke to $ignora 3uffi to tell her he would be gone for at least three weeks and ossibly longer. $ignora 3uffi had behaved *ust as usual, Tom thought, and had not mentioned his !merican visitor yesterday. Tom tried to think of something to ask her, something quite normal in view of "reddie's questions yesterday, that would show him what $ignora 3uffi really thought about the questions, but he couldn't think of anything, and decided to let well enough alone. 4verything was fine. Tom tried to reason himself out of the hangover, because he had had only the equivalent of three martinis and three ernods at most. He knew it was a matter of mental suggestion, and that he had a hangover because he had intended to retend that he had been drinking a great deal with "reddie. !nd now when there was no need of it, he was still retending, uncontrollably. The tele hone rang, and Tom icked it u and said ''ronto,' sullenly. '$ignor Greenleaf%' asked the .talian voice. '$i.' 'Pui arla la sta/ionc oli/ia numero ottantatre. 7ei e un amico di un americano chi se chiama "red(derick ,eelays%' '"rederick ,iles% $i,' Tom said. The quick, tense voice stated that the cor se of "red(derick ,eelays had been found that morning on the 6ia ! ia !ntica, and that $ignor ,ee(lays had visited him at some time yesterday, was that not so% '0es, that is so.' '!t what time e1actly%' '"rom about noon to(( erha s five or si1 in the afternoon, . am not quite sure.' ')ould you be kind enough to answer some questions%... -o, it is not necessary that you trouble yourself to come to the station. The interrogator will come to you. )ill eleven o'clock this morning be convenient%' '.'ll be very glad to hel if . can,' Tom said in a ro erly e1cited voice, 'but can't the interrogator come now% .t is necessary for me to leave the house at ten o'clock.' The voice made a little moan and said it was doubtful, but they would try it. .f they could not come before ten o'clock, it was very
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im ortant that he should not leave the house. '6a bene,' Tom said, acquiescently, and hung u . 2amn them+ He'd miss his train and his boat now. !ll he wanted to do was get out, leave #ome and leave his a artment. He started to go over what he would tell the olice. .t was all so sim le, it bored him. .t was the absolute truth. They had had drinks, "reddie had told him about Cortina, they had talked a lot, and then "reddie had left, maybe a little high but in a very good mood. -o, he didn't know where "reddie had been going. He had su osed "reddie had a date for the evening. Tom went into the bedroom and ut a canvas, which he had begun a few days ago, on the easel. The aint on the alette was still moist because he had ke t it under water in a an in the kitchen. He mi1ed some more blue and white and began to add to the greyish( blue sky. The icture was still in 2ickie's bright reddish(browns and clear whites((the roofs and walls of #ome out of his window. The sky was the only de arture, because the winter sky of #ome was so gloomy, even 2ickie would have ainted it greyish(blue instead of blue, Tom thought. Tom frowned, *ust as 2ickie frowned when he ainted. The tele hone rang again. 'God damn it+' Tom muttered, and went to answer it. ''ronto+' ''ronto+ "austo+' the voice said. 'Come sta%' !nd the familiar, bubbling, *uvenile laugh. '&h(h+ "austo+ 3ene, gra/ie+ 41cuse me': Tom continued in .talian in 2ickie's laughing, absent voice. '.'ve been trying to aint((trying.' .t was calculated to be ossibly the voice of 2ickie after having lost a friend like "reddie, and also the voice of 2ickie on an ordinary morning of absorbing work. 'Can you have lunch%' "austo asked. ',y train leaves at four( fifteen for ,ilano.' Tom groaned, like 2ickie. '.'m *ust taking off for -a les. 0es, immediately, in twenty minutes+' .f he could esca e "austo now, he thought, he needn't let "austo know that the olice had called him at all. The news about "reddie wouldn't be in the a ers until noon or later. '3ut .'m here+ .n #oma+ )here's your house% .'m at the railroad station+' "austo said cheerfully, laughing. ')here'd you get my tele hone number%' '!h+ allora, . called u information. They told me you didn't give
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the number out, but . told the girl a long story about a lottery you won in ,ongibello. . don't know if she believed me, but . made it sound very im ortant. ! house and a cow and a well and even a refrigerator+ . had to call her back three times, but finally she gave it to me. !llora, 2eekie, where are you%' 'That's not the oint. .'d have lunch with you if . didn't have this train, but (' '6a bene, .'ll hel you carry your bags+ Tell me where you are and .'ll come over with a ta1i for you+' The time's too short. )hy don't . see you at the railroad station in about half an hour% .t's the ten(thirty train for -a les.' '&kay+' 'How is ,arge%' '!h((inamorata di te,' "austo said, laughing. '!re you going to see her in -a les%' '. don't think so. .'ll see you in a few minutes, "austo. Got to hurry, !rrividerch.' QRS #ividerch, 2eekie+ !ddio+' He hung u . )hen "austo saw the a ers this afternoon, he would understand why he hadn't come to the railroad station, otherwise "austo would *ust think they had missed each other somehow. 3ut "austo robably would see the a ers by noon, Tom thought, because the .talian a ers would lay it u big((the murder of an !merican on the ! ian )ay. !fter the interview with the olice, he would take another train to -a les((after four o'clock, so "austo wouldn't be still around the station((and wait in -a les for the ne1t boat to ,a*orca. He only ho ed that "austo wouldn't worm the address out of information, too, and decide to come over before four o'clock. He ho ed "austo wouldn't land here *ust when the olice were here. Tom shoved a cou le of suitcases under the bed, and carried the other to a closet and shut the door. He didn't want the olice to think he was *ust about to leave town. 3ut what was he so nervous about% They robably hadn't any clues. ,aybe a friend of "reddie's had known that "reddie was going to try to see him yesterday, that was all. Tom icked u a brush and moistened it in the tur entine cu . "or the benefit of the olice, he wanted to look as if he was not too u set by the news of "reddie's death to do a little ainting while he waited for them, though he was dressed to go out, because he had said he intended to go out. He was going to be a friend of "reddie's, but not
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too close a friend. $ignora 3uffi let the olice in at ten(thirty. Tom looked down the stairwell and saw them. They did not sto to ask her any questions. Tom went back into his a artment. The s icy smell of tur entine was in the room. There were two8 an older man in the uniform of an officer, and a younger(man in an ordinary olice uniform. The older man greeted him olitely and asked to see his ass ort. Tom roduced it, and the officer looked shar ly from Tom to the icture of 2ickie, more shar ly than anyone had ever looked at it before, and Tom braced himself for a challenge, but there was none. The officer handed him the ass ort with a little bow and a smile. He was a short, middle(aged man who looked like thousands of other middle(aged .talians, with heavy grey( and(black eyebrows and a short, bushy grey(and(black moustache. He looked neither articularly bright nor stu id. 'How was he killed%' Tom asked. 'He was struck on the head and in the neck by some heavy instrument,' the officer re lied, 'and robbed. )e think he was drunk. )as he drunk when he left your a artment yesterday afternoon%' ')ell((somewhat. )e had both been drinking. )e were drinking martinis and ernod.' The officer wrote it down in his tablet, and also the time that Tom said "reddie had been there, from about twelve until about si1. The younger oliceman, handsome and blank of face, was strolling around the a artment with his hands behind him, bending close to the easel with a rela1ed air as if he were alone in a museum. '2o you know where he was going when he left%' the officer asked. '-o, . don't.' '3ut you thought he was able to drive%' '&h, yes. He was not too drunk to drive or . would have gone with him.' The officer asked another question that Tom retended not quite to gras . The officer asked it a second time, choosing different words, and e1changed a smile with the younger officer. Tom glanced from one to the other of them, a little resentfully. The officer wanted to know what his relationshi to "reddie had been. '! friend,' Tom said. '-ot a very close friend. . had not seen or heard from him in about two months. . was terribly u set to hear about
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the disaster this morning.' Tom let his an1ious e1 ression make u for his rather rimitive vocabulary. He thought it did. He thought the questioning was very erfunctory, and that they were going to leave in another minute or so. '!t e1actly what time was he killed%' Tom asked. The officer was still writing. He raised his bushy eyebrows. '4vidently *ust after the signor left your house, because the doctors believe that he had been dead at least twelve hours, erha s longer.' '!t what time was he found%' '!t dawn this morning. 3y some workmen who were walking along the road.' '2io mio+' Tom murmured. 'He said nothing about making an e1cursion yesterday to the 6ia ! ia when he left your a artment%' '-o,' Tom said. ')hat did you do yesterday after $ignor ,ee(lays left%' '. stayed here,' Tom said, gesturing with o en hands as 2ickie would have done, 'and then . had a little slee , and later . went out for a walk around eight or eight(thirty.' ! man who lived in the house, whose name Tom didn't know, had seen him come in last night at about a quarter to nine, and they had said good evening to each other. '0ou took a walk alone%' '0es.' '!nd $ignor ,ee(lays left here alone% He was not going to meet anybody that you know of%' '-o. He didn't say so.' Tom wondered if "reddie had had friends with him at his hotel, or wherever he had been staying% Tom ho ed that the olice wouldn't confront him with any of "reddie's friends who might know 2ickie. -ow his name (#ichard Greenleaf((would be in the .talian news a ers, Tom thought, and also his address. He'd have to move. .t was hell. He cursed to himself. The olice officer saw him, but it looked like a muttered curse against the sad fate that had befallen "reddie, Tom thought. '$o (' the officer said, smiling, and closed his tablet. '0ou think it was (' Tom tried to think of the word for hoodlum '( violent boys, don't you% !re there any clues%' ')e are searching the car for finger rints now. The murderer may have been somebody he icked u to give a ride to. The car was found this morning in the vicinity of the 'ia//a di $ agna. )e should
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have some clues before tonight. Thank you very much, $ignor Greenleaf.' '2i niente+ .f . can be of any further assistance (' The officer turned at the door. '$hall we be able to reach you here for the ne1t few days, in case there are any more questions%' Tom hesitated. '. was lanning to leave for ,a*orca tomorrow.' '3ut the questions may be, who is such(and(such a erson who is a sus ect,' the officer e1 lained. '0ou may be able to tell us who the erson is in relation to the deceased.' He gestured. '!ll right. 3ut . do not think . knew $ignor ,iles that well. He robably had closer friends in the city.' ')ho%' The officer closed the door and took out his tablet. '. don't know,' Tom said. '. only know he must have had several friends here, eo le who knew him better than . did.' '. am sorry, but we still must e1 ect you to be in reach for the ne1t cou le of days,' he re eated quietly, as if there were no question of Tom's arguing about it, even if he was an !merican. QRS )e shall inform you as soon as you may go. . am sorry if you have made travel lans. 'erha s there is still time to cancel them. Good day, $ignor Greenleaf.' 'Good day.' Tom stood there after they had closed the door. He could move to a hotel, he thought, if he told the olice what hotel it was. He didn't want "reddie's friends or any friends of 2ickie's calling on him after they saw his address in the news a ers. He tried to assess his behaviour from the oli/a's oint of view. They hadn't challenged him on anything. He had not acted horrified at the news of "reddie's death, but that *ibed with the fact that he was not an es ecially close friend of "reddie's either. -o, it wasn't bad, e1ce t that he had to be on ta . The tele hone rang, and Tom didn't answer it, because he had a feeling that it was "austo calling from the railroad station. .t was eleven(five, and the train for -a les would have de arted. )hen the hone sto ed ringing, Tom icked it u and called the .nghilterra. He reserved a room, and said he would be there in about half an hour. Then he called the olice station((he remembered that it was number eighty(three((and after nearly ten minutes of difficulties because he couldn't find anyone who knew or cared who #ichard Greenleaf was, he succeeded in leaving a message that $igner #ichard Greenleaf could be found at the !lbergo .nghilterra, in case the olice wanted to s eak to him.
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He was at the .nghilterra before an hour was u . His three suitcases, two of them 2ickie's and one his own, de ressed him8 he had acked them for such a different ur ose. !nd now this+ He went out at noon to buy the a ers. 4very one of the a ers had it8 !,4#.C!-& ,<#24#42 &- TH4 6.! !''.! !-T.C!... $H&C;.-G ,<#24# &" #.CC.$$.,& !,4#.C!-& "#424#.C; ,.74$ 7!$T -.GHT &- TH4 6.! !''.!... 6.! !''.! ,<#24# &" !,4#.C!-& ).TH&<T C7<4$... Tom read every word. There really were no clues, at least not yet, no tracks, no finger rints, no sus ects. 3ut every a er carried the name Herbert #ichard Greenleaf and gave his address as the lace where "reddie had last been seen by anybody. -ot one of the a ers im lied that Herbert #ichard Greenleaf was under sus icion, however. The a ers said that ,iles had a arently had a few drinks and the drinks, in ty ical .talian *ournalistic style, were all enumerated and ran from americanos through $cotch whisky, brandy, cham agne, even gra a. &nly gin and ernod were omitted. Tom stayed in his hotel room over the lunch hour, walking the floor and feeling de ressed and tra ed. He tele honed the travel office in #ome that had sold him his ticket to 'alma, and tried to cancel it. He could have twenty er cent of his money back, they said. There was not another boat to 'alma for about five days. !round two o'clock his tele hone rang urgently. 'Hello,' Tom said in 2ickie's nervous, irritable tone. 'Hello, 2ick. This is 6an Houston.' '&h(h,' Tom said, as if he knew him, yet the single word conveyed no e1cess of sur rise or warmth. 'How've you been% .t's been a long time, hasn't it%' the hoarse, strained voice asked. 'Certainly has. )here are you%' '!t the Hassler. .'ve been going over "reddie's suitcases with the olice. 7isten, . want to see you. )hat was the matter with "reddie yesterday% . tried to find you all last evening, you know, because "reddie was su osed to be back at the hotel by si1. . didn't have your address. )hat ha ened yesterday%' '. wish . knew+ "reddie left the house around si1. )e both had taken on quite a lot of martinis, but he looked ca able of driving or naturally . wouldn't have let him go off. He said he had his car downstairs. . can't imagine what ha ened, e1ce t that he icked u somebody to give them a lift, and they ulled a gun on him or
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something.' '3ut he wasn't killed by a gun. . agree with you somebody must have forced him to drive out there, or he blotted out, because he'd have had to get clear across town to get to the ! ian )ay. The Hassler's only a few blocks from where you live.' '2id he ever black out before% !t the wheel of a car%', '7isten, 2ickie, can . see you% .'m free now, e1ce t that .'m not su osed to leave the hotel today.' '-either am ..' '&h, come on. 7eave a message where you are and come over.' '. can't, 6an. The olice are coming over in about an hour and .'m su osed to be here. )hy don't you call me later% ,aybe . can see you tonight.' '!ll right. )hat time%' 'Call me around si1.' '#ight. ;ee your chin u , 2ickie.' '0ou too.' '$ee you,' the voice said weakly. Tom hung u . 6an had sounded as if he were about to cry at the last. ''ronto%' Tom said, clicking the tele hone to get the hotel o erator. He left a message that he was not in to anybody e1ce t the olice, and that they were to let nobody u to see him. 'ositively no one. !fter that the tele hone did not ring all afternoon. !t about eight, when it was dark, Tom went downstairs to buy the evening a ers. He looked around the little lobby and into the hotel bar whose door was off the main hall, looking for anybody who might be 6an. He was ready for anything, ready even to see ,arge sitting there waiting for him, but he saw no one who looked even like a olice agent. He bought the evening a ers and sat in a little restaurant a few streets away, reading them. $till no clues. He learned that 6an Houston was a close friend of "reddie's, aged twenty(eight, travelling with him from !ustria to #ome on a holiday that was to have ended in "lorence, where both ,iles and Houston had residences, the a ers said. They had questioned three .talian youths, two of them eighteen and one si1teen, on sus icion of having done the 'horrible deed', but the youths had been later released. Tom was relieved to read that no finger rints that could be considered fresh or usable had been found on ,iles's 'bellissimo "iat 1I?? convertible'.
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Tom ate his costoletta di vitello slowly, si ed his wine, and glanced through every column of the a ers for the last(minute items that were sometimes ut into .talian a ers *ust before they went to ress. He found nothing more on the ,iles case. 3ut on the last age of the last news a er he read8 3!#C! !""&-2!T! C&- ,!CCH.4 2. $!-G<4 T#&6!T -477' !CP<! '&C& "&-2& 6.C.-& $!- #4,& He read it ra idly, with more terror in his heart than he had felt when he had carried "reddie's body down the stairs, or when the olice had come to question him. This was like a nemesis, like a nightmare come true, even the wording of the headline. The boat was described in detail and it brought the scene back to him, 2ickie sitting in the stern at the throttle, 2ickie smiling at him, 2ickie's body sinking through the water with its wake of bubbles. The te1t said that the stains were believed to be bloodstains, not that they were. .t did not say what the olice or anybody else intended to do about them. 3ut the olice would do something, Tom thought. The boatkee er could robably tell the olice the very day the boat was lost. The olice could then check the hotels for that day. The .talian boatkee er might even remember that it was two !mericans who had not come back with the boat. .f the olice bothered to check the hotel registers around that time, the name #ichard Greenleaf would stand out like a red flag. .n which case, of course, it would be Tom #i ley who would be missing, who might have been murdered that day. Tom's imagination went in several directions8 su ose they searched for 2ickie's body and found it% .t would be assumed to be Tom #i ley's now. 2ickie would be sus ected of murder. 4rgo, 2ickie would be sus ected of "reddie's murder, too. 2ickie would become overnight 'a murderous ty e'. &n the other hand, the .talian boatkee er might not remember the day that one of his boats had not been brought back. 4ven if he did remember, the hotels might not be checked. The .talian olice *ust might not be that interested. ,ight, might, might not. Tom folded u his a ers, aid his check, and went out. He asked at the hotel desk if there were any messages for him. '$i, signor. Puesto e questo e questo (' The clerk laid them out on the desk before him like a card layer laying down a winning straight. Two from 6an. &ne from #obert Gilbertson. A)asn't there a #obert Gilbertson in 2ickie's address book% Check on that.B &ne from ,arge. Tom icked it u and read its .talian carefully8 $ignorina $herwood had called at three thirty(five '. ,. and would call again.
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The call was long distance from ,ongibello. Tom nodded, and icked them u . QRS Thanks very much.' He didn't like the looks of the clerk behind the desk. .talians were so damned curious+ '< stairs he sat hunched forward in an armchair, smoking and thinking. He was trying to figure out what would logically ha en if he did nothing, and what he could make ha en by his own actions. ,arge would very likely come u to #ome. $he had evidently called the #ome olice to get his address. .f she came u , he would have to see her as Tom, and try to convince her that 2ickie was out for a while, as he had with "reddie. !nd if he failed((Tom rubbed his alms together nervously. He mustn't see ,arge, that was all. -ot now with the boat affair brewing. 4verything would go haywire if he saw her. .t'd be the end of everything+ 3ut if he could only sit tight, nothing at all would ha en. .t was *ust this moment, he thought, *ust this little crisis with the boat story and the unsolved "reddie ,iles murder((that made things so difficult. 3ut absolutely nothing would ha en to him, if he could kee on doing and saying the right things to everybody. !fterwards it could be smooth sailing again. Greece, or .ndia. Ceylon. $ome lace far, far away, where no old friend could ossibly come knocking on his door. )hat a fool he had been to think he could stay in #ome+ ,ight as well have icked Grand Central $tation, or ut himself on e1hibition in the 7ouvre+ He called the $ta/ione Termini, and asked about the trains for -a les tomorrow. There were four or five. He wrote down the times for all of them. .t would be five days before a boat left from -a les for ,a*orca, and he would sit the time out in -a les, he thought. !ll he needed was a release from the olice, and if nothing ha ened tomorrow he should get it. They couldn't hold a man forever, without even any grounds for sus icion, *ust in order to throw an occasional question at him+ He began to feel he would be released tomorrow, that it was absolutely logical that he should be released. He icked u the tele hone again, and told the clerk that if ,iss ,ar*orie $herwood called again, he would acce t the call. .f she called again, he thought, he could convince her in two minutes that everything was all right, that "reddie's murder didn't concern him at all, that he had moved to a hotel *ust to avoid annoying tele hone calls from total strangers and yet still be within reach of the olice in case they wanted him to identify any sus ects they icked u . He would tell
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her that he was flying to Greece tomorrow or the ne1t day, so there was no use in her coming to #ome. !s a matter of fact, he thought, he could fly to 'alma from #ome. He hadn't even thought of that before. He lay down on the bed, tired, but not ready to undress, because he felt that something else was going to ha en tonight. He tried to concentrate on ,arge. He imagined her at this moment sitting in Giorgio's, or treating herself to a long, slow Tom Collins in the ,iramare bar, and debating whether to call him u again. He could see her troubled eyebrows, her tousled hair as she sat brooding about what might be ha ening in #ome. $he would be alone at the table, not talking to anyone. He saw her getting u and going home, taking a suitcase and catching the noon bus tomorrow. He was there on the road in front of the ost office, shouting to her not to go, trying to sto the bus, but it ulled away... The scene dissolved in swirling yellow(greyness, the colour of the sand in ,ongibello. Tom saw 2ickie smiling at him, dressed in the corduroy suit that he had worn in $an #emo. The suit was soaking wet, the tie a dri ing string. 2ickie bent over him, shaking him. '. swam+' he said. 'Tom, wake u + .'m all right+ . swam+ .'m alive+' Tom squirmed away from his touch. He heard 2ickie laugh at him, 2ickie's ha y, dee laugh. 'Tom+' The timbre of the voice was dee er, richer, better than Tom had even been able to make it in his imitations. Tom ushed himself u . His body felt leaden and slow, as if he were trying to raise himself out of dee water. '. swam+' 2ickie's voice shouted, ringing and ringing in Tom's ears as if he heard it through a long tunnel. Tom looked around the room, looking for 2ickie in the yellow light under the bridge lam , in the dark corner by the tall wardrobe. Tom felt his own eyes stretched wide, terrified, and though he knew his fear was senseless, he ke t looking everywhere for 2ickie, below the half( drawn shades at the window, and on the floor on the other side of the bed. He hauled himself u from the bed, staggered across the room, and o ened a window. Then the other window. He felt drugged. $omebody ut something in my wine, he thought suddenly. He knelt below the window, breathing the cold air in, fighting the grogginess as if it were something that was going to overcome him if he didn't e1ert himself to the utmost. "inally he went into the bathroom and wet his face at the basin. The grogginess was going away. He knew he hadn't been drugged. He had let his imagination run away with him. He had
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been out of control. He drew himself u and calmly took off his tie. He moved as 2ickie would have done, undressed himself, bathed, ut his y*amas on and lay down in bed. He tried to think about what 2ickie would be thinking about. His mother. Her last letter had enclosed a cou le of sna shots of herself and ,r Greenleaf sitting in the living( room over coffee, the scene he remembered from the evening he had had coffee with them after dinner. ,rs Greenleaf had said that Herbert had taken the ictures himself by squee/ing a bulb. Tom began to com ose his ne1t letter to them. They were leased that he was writing more often. He must set their minds at rest about the "reddie affair, because they knew of "reddie. ,rs Greenleaf had asked about "reddie ,iles in one of her letters. 3ut Tom was listening for the tele hone while he tried to com ose the letter, and he couldn't really concentrate.
1E The first thing he thought of when he woke u was ,arge. He reached for the tele hone and asked if she had called during the night. $he had not. He had a horrible remonition that she was coming u to #ome. .t shot him out of bed, and then as he moved in his routine of shaving and bathing, his feeling changed. )hy should he worry so much about ,arge% He had always been able to handle her. $he couldn't be here before five or si1, anyway, because the first bus left ,ongibello at noon, and she wasn't likely to take a ta1i to -a les. ,aybe he would be able to leave #ome this morning. !t ten o'clock he would call the olice and find out. He ordered caffe latte and rolls sent u to his room, and also the morning a ers. 6ery strangely, there was not a thing in any of the a ers about either the ,iles case or the $an #emo boat. .t made him feel odd and frightened, with the same fear he had had last night when he had imagined 2ickie standing in the room. He threw the news a ers away from him into a chair. The tele hone rang and he *um ed for it obediently. .t was either
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,arge or the olice. ''ronto%' ''ronto. There are two signori of the olice downstairs to see you, signor.' '6ery well. )ill you tell them to come u %' ! minute later he heard their footste s in the car eted hall. .t was the same older officer as yesterday, with a different younger oliceman. '3uon' giorno,' said the officer olitely, with his little bow. '3uon' giorno,' Tom said. 'Have you found anything new%' '-o,' said the officer on a questioning note. He took the chair that Tom offered him, and o ened his brown leather briefcase. '!nother matter has come u . 0ou are also a friend of the !merican Thomas #ee ley%' '0es,' Tom said. '2o you know where he is%' '. think he went back to !merica about a month ago.' The officer consulted his a er. '. see. That will have to be confirmed by the <nited $tates .mmigration 2e artment. 0ou see, we are trying to find Thomas #ee ley. )e think he may be dead.' '2ead% )hy%' The officer's li s under his bushy iron(grey moustache com ressed softly between each statement so that they seemed to be smiling. The smile had thrown Tom off a little yesterday, too. '0ou were with him on a tri to $an #emo in -ovember, were you not%' They had checked the hotels. '0es.' ')here did you last see him% .n $an #cmo%' '-o. . saw him again in #ome.' Tom remembered that ,arge knew he had gone back to #ome after ,ongibello, because he had said he was going to hel 2ickie get settled in #ome. ')hen did you last see him%' '. don't know if . can give you the e1act date. $omething like two months ago, . think. . think . had a ostcard from((from Genoa from him, saying that he was going to go back to !merica.' '0ou think%' '. know . had,' Tom said. ')hy do you think he is dead%' The officer looked at his form a er dubiously. Tom glanced at the younger oliceman, who was leaning against the bureau with his arms folded, staring im ersonally at him. '2id you take a boat ride with Thomas #ee ley in $an #emo%'
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'! boat ride% )here%' '.n a little boat% !round the ort%' the officer asked quietly, looking at Tom. '. think we did. 0es, . remember. )hy%' '3ecause a little boat has been found sunken with some kind of stains on it that may be blood. .t was lost on -ovember twenty(fifth. That is, it was not returned to the dock from which it was rented. -ovember twenty(fifth was the day you were in $an #emo with $ignor #ee ley.' The officers' eyes rested on him without moving. The very mildness of the look offended Tom. .t was dishonest, he felt. 3ut Tom made a tremendous effort to behave in the ro er way. He saw himself as if he were standing a art from himself and watching the scene. He corrected even his stance, and made it more rela1ed by resting a hand on the end ost of the bed. '3ut nothing ha ened to us on that boat ride. There was no accident.' '2id you bring the boat back%' '&f course.' The officer continued to eye him. ')e cannot find $ignor #ee ley registered in any hotel after -ovember twenty(fifth.' '#eally%((How long have you been looking%' '-ot long enough to search every little village in .taly, but we have checked the hotels in the ma*or cities. )e find you registered at the Hassler on -ovember twenty(eighth to thirtieth, and then (' 'Tom didn't stay with me in #ome(($ignor #i ley. He went to ,ongibello around that time and stayed for a cou le of days.' ')here did he stay when he came u to #ome%' '!t some small hotel. . don't remember which it was. . didn't visit him.' '!nd where were you%' ')hen%' '&n -ovember twenty(si1th and twenty(seventh. That is, *ust after $an #emo.' '.n "orte dei ,armi,' Tom re lied. '. sto ed off there on the way down. . stayed at a ension.' ')hich one%' Tom shook his head. '. don't recall the name. ! very small lace.' !fter all, he thought, through ,arge he could rove that Tom was in ,ongibello, alive, after $an #emo, so why should the olice investigate what ension 2ickie Greenleaf had stayed at on the twenty(si1th and
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twenty(seventh% Tom sat down on the side of his bed. '. do not understand yet why you think Tom #i ley is dead.' ')e think somebody is dead,' the officer re lied, 'in $an #emo. $omebody was killed in that boat. That was why the boat was sunk((to hide the bloodstains.' Tom frowned. They are sure they are bloodstains%' The officer shrugged. Tom shrugged, too. 'There must have been a cou le of hundred eo le renting boats that day in $an #emo.' '-ot so many. !bout thirty. .t's quite true, it could have been any one of the thirty (or any air of the fifteen,' he added with a smile. ')e don't even know all their names. 3ut we are beginning to think Thomas #ee ley is missing.' -ow he looked off at a corner of the room, and he might have been thinking of something else, Tom thought, *udging from his e1 ression. &r was he en*oying the warmth of the radiator beside his chair% Tom recrossed his legs im atiently. )hat was going on in the .talian's head was obvious8 2ickie Greenleaf had twice been on the scene of a murder, or near enough. The missing Thomas #i ley had taken a boat ride -ovember twenty(fifth with 2ickie Greenleaf. 4rgo(( Tom straightened u , frowning. '!re you saving that you do not believe me when . tell you that . saw Tom #i ley in #ome around the first of 2ecember%' '&h, no, . didn't say that, no indeed+' The officer gestured lacatingly. '. wanted to hear what you would say about your((your travelling with $igner #ee ley after $an #emo, because we cannot find him.' He smiled again, a broad, conciliatory smile that showed yellowish teeth. Tom rela1ed with an e1as erated shrug. &bvious that the .talian olice didn't want to accuse an !merican citi/en outright of murder. '.'m sorry that . can't tell you e1actly where he is right now. )hy don't you try 'aris% &r Genoa% He'd always stay in a small hotel, because he refers them.' 'Have you got the ostcard that he sent you from Genoa%' '-o, . haven't,' Tom said. He ran his fingers through his hair, as 2ickie sometimes did when he was irritated. He felt better, concentrating on being 2ickie Greenleaf for a few seconds, acing the floor once or twice. '2o you know any friends of Thomas #ee ley%'
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Tom shook his head. '-o, . don't even know him very well, at least not for a very long time. . don't know if he has many friends in 4uro e. . think he said he knew someone in "aen/a. !lso in "lorence. 3ut . don't remember their names.' .f the .talian thought he was rotecting Tom's friends from a lot of olice questioning by not giving their names, then let him, Tom thought. '6a bene, we shall inquire,' the officer said. He ut his a ers away. He had made at least a do/en notations on them. '3efore you go,' Tom said in the same nervous, frank tone, '. want to ask when . can leave the city. . was lanning to go to $icily. . should like very much to leave today if it is ossible. . intend to stay at the Hotel 'alma in 'alermo. .t will be very sim le for you to reach me if . am needed.' ''alermo,' the officer re eated. '4bbene, that may be ossible. ,ay . use the tele hone%' Tom lighted an .talian cigarette and listened to the officer asking for Ca itano !ulicino, and then stating quite im assively that $igner Greenleaf did not know where $igner #ee ley was, and that he might have gone back to !merica, or he might be in "lorence or "aen/a in the o inion of $igner Greenleaf. '"aen/a,' he re eated carefully, 'vicino 3ologna.' )hen the man had got that, the officer said $ignor Greenleaf wished to go to 'alermo today. '6a bene. 3enone.' The officer turned to Tom, smiling. '0es, you may go to 'alermo today.' '3enone. Gra/ie.' He walked with the two to the door. '.f you find where Tom #i ley is, . wish you would let me know, too,' he said ingenuously. '&f course+ )e shall kee you informed, signer. 3uon' giorno+' !lone, Tom began to whistle as he re acked the few things he had taken from his suitcase. He felt roud of himself for having ro osed $icily instead of ,a*orca, because $icily was still .taly and ,a*orca wasn't, and naturally the .talian olice would be more willing to let him leave if he stayed in their territory. He had thought of that when it had occurred to him that Tom #i ley's ass ort did not show that he had been to "rance again after the $an #emo(Cannes tri . He remembered he had told ,arge that Tom #i ley had said he was going u to 'aris and from there back to !merica. .f they ever questioned ,arge as to whether Tom #i ley was in ,ongibello after $an #emo, she might also add that he later went to 'aris. !nd if he ever had to become Tom #i ley again, and show his ass ort to the
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olice, they would see that he hadn't been to "rance again after the Cannes tri . He would *ust have to say that he had changed his mind after he told 2ickie that, and had decided to stay in .taly. That wasn't im ortant. Tom straightened u suddenly from a suitcase. Could it all be a trick, really% )ere they *ust letting him have a little more ro e in letting him go to $icily, a arently unsus ected% ! sly little bastard, that officer. He'd said his name once. )hat was it% #avini% #overini% )ell, what could be the advantage of letting him have a little more ro e% He'd told them e1actly where he was going. He had no intention of trying to run away from anything. !ll he wanted was to get out of #ome. He was frantic to get out+ He threw the last items into his suitcase and slammed the lid down and locked it. The hone again+ Tom snatched it u . ''ronto%' '&h, 2ickie+' breathlessly. .t was ,arge and she was downstairs, he could tell from the sound. "lustered, he said in Tom's voice, ')ho's this%' '.s this Tom%' ',arge+ )ell, hello+ )here are you%' '.'m downstairs. .s 2ickie there% Can . come u %' '0ou can come u in about five minutes,' Tom said with a laugh. '.'m not quite dressed yet.' The clerks always sent eo le to a booth downstairs, he thought. The clerks wouldn't be able to overhear them. '.s 2ickie there%' '-ot at the moment. He went out about half an hour ago, but he'll be back any minute. . know where he is, if you want to find him.' ')here%' '!t the eighty(third olice station. -o, e1cuse me, it's the eighty( seventh,' '.s he in any trouble%' '-o, *ust answering questions. He was su osed to be there at ten. )ant me to give you the address%' He wished he hadn't started talking in Tom's voice8 he could so easily have retended to be a servant, some friend of 2ickie's, anybody, and told her that 2ickie was out for hours. ,arge was groaning. '-o(o. .'ll wait for him.' 'Here it is+' Tom said as if he had found it. 'Twenty(one 6ia 'erugia. 2o you know where that is%' Tom didn't, but he was going to send her in the o osite direction from the !merican 41 ress, where he wanted
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to go for his mail before he left town. '. don't want to go,' ,arge said. '.'ll come u and wait with you, if it's all right.' ')ell, it's (' He laughed, his own unmistakable laugh that ,arge knew well. 'The thing is, .'m e1 ecting somebody any minute. .t's a business interview. !bout a *ob. 3elieve it or not, old believe(it(or(not #i ley's trying to ut himself to work.' '&h,' said ,arge, not in the least interested. ')ell, how is 2ickie% )hy does he have to talk to the olice%' '&h, *ust because he had some drinks with "reddie that day. 0ou saw the a ers, didn't you% The a ers make it ten times more im ortant than it was for the sim le reason that the do es haven't got any clues at all about anything.' 'How long has 2ickie been living here%' 'Here% &h, *ust overnight. .'ve been u north. )hen . heard about "reddie, . came down to #ome to see him. .f it hadn't been for the olice, .'d never have found him+' '0ou're telling me+ . went to the olice in des eration+ .'ve been so worried, Tom. He might at least have honed me((at Giorgio's or somewhere (' '.'m awfully glad you're in town, ,arge. 2ickie'll be tickled ink to see you. He's been worried about what you might think of all this in the a ers.' '&h, has he%' ,arge said disbelievingly, but she sounded leased. ')hy don't you wait for me in !ngelo's% .t's that bar right down the street in front of the hotel going towards the 'ia//a di $ agna ste s. .'ll see if . can sneak out and have a drink or a coffee with you in about five minutes, okay%' '&kay. 3ut there's a bar right here in the hotel.' '. don't want to be seen by my future boss in a bar.' '&h, all right. !ngelo's%' '0ou can't miss it. &n the street straight in front of the hotel. 3ye( bye.' He whirled around to finish his acking. He really was finished e1ce t for the coats in the closet. He icked u the tele hone and asked for his bill to be re ared, and for somebody to carry his luggage. Then he ut his luggage in a neat hea for the bellboys and went down via the stairs. He wanted, to see if ,arge was still in the lobby, waiting there for him, or ossibly still there making another
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tele hone call. $he couldn't have been downstairs waiting when the olice were here, Tom thought. !bout five minutes had assed between the time the olice left and ,arge called u . He had ut on a hat to conceal his blonder hair, a raincoat which was new, and he wore Tom #i ley's shy, slightly frightened e1 ression. $he wasn't in the lobby. Tom aid his bill. The clerk handed him another message8 6an Houston had been here. The message was in his own writing, dated ten minutes ago. )aited for you half an hour. 2on't you ever go for a walk% They won't let me u . Call me at the Hassler. 6an ,aybe 6an and ,arge had run into each other, if they knew each other, and were sitting together in !ngelo's now. '.f anybody else asks for me, would you say that .'ve left the city%' Tom said to the clerk. '6a bene, signor.' Tom went out to his waiting ta1i. ')ould you sto at the !merican 41 ress, lease%' he asked the driver. The driver did not take the street that !ngelo's was on. Tom rela1ed and congratulated himself. He congratulated himself above all on the fact that he had been too nervous to stay in his a artment yesterday and had taken a hotel room. He never could have evaded ,arge in his a artment. $he had the address from the news a ers. .f he had tried the same trick, she would have insisted on coming u and waiting for 2ickie in the a artment. 7uck was with him+ He had mail at the !merican 41 ress((three letters, one from ,r Greenleaf. 'How are you today%' asked the young .talian girl who had handed him his mail. $he'd read the a ers, too: Tom thought. He smiled back at her naively curious face. Her name was ,aria. '6ery well, thanks, and you%' !s he turned away, it crossed his mind that he could never use the #ome !merican 41 ress as an address for Tom #i ley. Two or three of the clerks knew him by sight. He was using the -a les !merican 41 ress for Tom #i ley's mail now, though he hadn't claimed anything there or written them to forward anything, because he wasn't
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e1 ecting anything im ortant for Tom #i ley, not even another blast from ,r Greenleaf. )hen things cooled off a little, he would *ust walk into the -a les !merican 41 ress some day and claim it with Tom #i ley's ass ort, he thought. He couldn't use the #ome !merican 41 ress as Tom #i ley, but he had to kee Tom #i ley with him, his ass ort and his clothes in order for emergencies like ,arge's tele hone call this morning. ,arge had come damned close to being right in the room with him. !s long as the innocence of 2ickie Greenleaf was debatable in the o inion of the olice, it was suicidal to think of leaving the country as 2ickie, because if he had to switch suddenly to Tom #i ley, #i ley's ass ort would not show that he had left .taly. .f he wanted to leave .taly((to take 2ickie Greenleaf entirely away from the olice((he would have to leave as Tom #i ley, and re(enter later as Tom #i ley and become 2ickie again once the olice investigations were over. That was a ossibility. .t seemed sim le and safe. !ll he had to do was weather the ne1t few days.
1O The boat a roached 'alermo harbour slowly and tentatively, nosing its white row gently through the floating orange eels, the straw and the ieces of broken fruit crates. .t was the way Tom felt, too, a roaching 'alermo. He had s ent two days in -a les, and there had been nothing of any interest in the a ers about the ,iles case and nothing at all about the $an #emo boat, and the olice had made no attem t to reach him that he knew of. 3ut maybe they had *ust not bothered to look for him in -a les, he thought, and were waiting for him in 'alermo at the hotel. There were no olice waiting for him on the dock, anyway. Tom looked for them. He bought a cou le of news a ers, then took a ta1i with his luggage to the Hotel 'alma. There were no olice in the hotel lobby, either. .t was an ornate old lobby with great marble su orting columns and big ots of alms standing around. ! clerk told him the
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number of his reserved room, and handed a bellboy the key. Tom felt so much relieved that he went over to the mail counter and asked boldly if there was any message for $igner #ichard Greenleaf. The clerk told him there was not. Then he began to rela1. That meant there was not even a message from ,arge. ,arge would undoubtedly have gone to the olice by now to find out where 2ickie was. Tom had imagined horrible things during the boat tri 8 ,arge beating him to 'alermo by lane, ,arge leaving a message for him at the Hotel 'alma that she would arrive on the ne1t boat. He had even looked for ,arge on the boat when he got aboard in -a les. -ow he began to think that erha s ,arge had given 2ickie u after this e isode. ,aybe she'd caught on to the idea that 2ickie was running away from her and that he wanted to be with Tom, alone. ,aybe that had even enetrated her thick skull. Tom debated sending her a letter to that effect as he sat in his dee warn bath that evening, s reading soa suds lu1uriously u and down his arms. Tom #i ley ought to write the letter, he thought. .t was about time. He would say that he'd wanted to be tactful all this while, that he hadn't wanted to come right out with it on the tele hone in #ome, but that by now he had the feeling she understood, anyway. He and 2ickie were very ha y together, and that was that. Tom began to giggle merrily, un(controllably, and squelched himself by sli ing all the way under the water, holding his nose. 2ear ,arge, he would say, .'m writing this because . don't think 2ickie ever will, though .'ve asked him to many times. 0ou're much too fine a erson to be strung along like this for so long... He giggled again, then sobered himself by deliberately concentrating on the little roblem that he hadn't solved yet8 ,arge had also robably told the .talian olice that she had talked to Tom #i ley at the .nghilterra. The olice were going to wonder where the hell he went to. The olice might be looking for him in #ome now. The olice would certainly look for Tom #i ley around 2ickie Greenleaf. .t was an added danger((if they were, for instance, to think that he was Tom #i ley now, *ust from ,arge's descri tion of him, and stri him and search him and find both his and 2ickie's ass orts. 3ut what had he said about risks% #isks were what made the whole thing fun. He burst out singing8 'a a non vuole, ,ama ne meno, Come faremo farF .'amor'%
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He boomed it out in the bathroom as he dried himself. He sang in 2ickie's loud baritone that he had never heard, but he felt sure 2ickie would have been leased with his ringing tone. He dressed, ut on one of his new non(wrinkling travelling suits, and strolled out into the 'alermo dusk. There across the la/a was the great -orman(influenced cathedral he had read about, built by the 4nglish archbisho )alter(of(the(,ill, he remembered from a guidebook. Then there was $iracusa to the south, scene of a mighty naval battle between the 7atins and the Greeks. !nd 2ionysius' 4ar. !nd Taormina. !nd 4tna+ .t was a big island and brand(new to him. $icilia+ $tronghold of Giuliano+ Colonised by the ancient Greeks, invaded by -orman and $aracen+ Tomorrow he would commence his tourism ro erly, but this moment was glorious, he thought as he sto ed to stare at the tall, towered cathedral in front of him. )onderful to look at the dusty arches of its facade and to think of going inside tomorrow, to imagine its musty, sweetish smell, com osed of the uncounted candles and incense(burnings of hundreds and hundreds of years. !ntici ation+ .t occurred to him that his antici ation was more leasant to him than his e1 eriencing. )as it always going to be like that% )hen he s ent evenings alone, handling 2ickie's ossessions, sim ly looking at his rings on his own fingers, or his woollen ties, or his black alligator wallet, was that e1 eriencing or antici ation% 3eyond $icily came Greece. He definitely wanted to see Greece. He wanted to see Greece as 2ickie Greenleaf with 2ickie's money, 2ickie's clothes, 2ickie's way of behaving with strangers. 3ut would it ha en that he couldn't see Greece as 2ickie Greenleaf% )ould one thing after another come u to thwart him((murder, sus icion, eo le% He hadn't wanted to murder, it had been a necessity. The idea of going to Greece, trudging over the !cro olis as Tom #i ley, !merican tourist, held no charm for him at all. He would as soon not go. Tears came in his eyes as he stared u at the cam anile of the cathedral, and then he turned away and began to walk down a new street. There was a letter for him the ne1t morning, a fat letter from ,arge. Tom squee/ed it between his fingers and smiled. .t was what he had e1 ected, he felt sure, otherwise it wouldn't have been so fat. He read it at breakfast. He savoured every line of it along with his fresh warm rolls and his cinnamon(flavoured coffee. .t was all he could have e1 ected, and more. ... .f you really didn't know that . had been by your hotel, that only
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means that Tom didn't tell you, which leaves the same conclusion to be drawn. .t's retty obvious now that you're running out and can't face me. )hy don't you admit that you can't live without your little chum% .'m only sorry, old boy, that you didn't have the courage to tell me this before and outright. )hat do you think . am, a small(town hick who doesn't know about such things% 0ou're the only one who's acting small(town+ !t any rate, . ho e my telling you what you hadn't the courage to tell me relieves your conscience a little bit and lets you hold your head u . There's nothing like being roud of the erson you love, is there+ 2idn't we once talk about this% !ccom lishment -umber Two of my #oman holiday is informing the olice that Tom #i ley is with you. They seemed in a erfect ti//y to find him. A. wonder why% )hat's he done now%B . also informed the olice in my best .talian that you and Tom are inse arable and how they could have found you and still missed Tom, . could not imagine. Changed my boat and .'ll be leaving for the $tates around the end of ,arch, after a short visit to ;ate in ,unich, after which . resume our aths will never cross again. -o hard feelings, 2ickie boy. .'d *ust given you credit for a lot more guts. Thanks for all the wonderful memories. They're like something in a museum already or something reserved in amber, a little unreal, as you must have felt yourself always to me. 3est wishes for the future, ,arge <gh+ That corn at the end+ !h, Clabber Girl+ Tom folded the letter and stuck it into his *acket ocket. He glanced at the two doors of the hotel restaurant, automatically looking for olice. .f the olice thought that 2ickie Greenleaf and Tom #i ley were travelling together, they must have checked the 'alermo hotels already for Tom #i ley, he thought. 3ut he hadn't noticed any olice watching him, or following him. &r maybe they'd given the whole boat scare u , since they were sure Tom #i ley was alive. )hy on earth should they go on with it% ,aybe the sus icion against 2ickie in $an #emo and in the ,iles murder, too, had already blown over. ,aybe. He went u to his room and began a letter to ,r Greenleaf on 2ickie's ortable Hermes. He began by e1 laining the ,iles affair very soberly and logically, because ,r Greenleaf would robably be retty alarmed by now. He said that the olice had finished their questioning and that all they conceivably might want now was for him to try to identify any sus ects they might find, because the sus ect might be a mutual acquaintance of his and "reddie's.
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The tele hone rang while he was ty ing. ! man's voice said that he was a Tenente $omebody of the 'alermo olice force. ')e are looking for Thomas 'hel s #i ley. .s he with you in your hotel%' he asked courteously. '-o, he is not,' Tom re lied. '2o you know where he is%' '. think he is in #ome. . saw him *ust three or four days ago in #ome.' 'He has not been found in #ome. 0ou do not know where he might have been going from #ome%' Tm sorry, . haven't the slightest idea,' Tom said. Teccato,' sighed the voice, with disa ointment. 'Gra/ie tante, signer.' '2i niente.' Tom hung u and went back to his letter. The dull yards of 2ickie's rose came out more fluently now than Tom's own letters ever had. He addressed most of the letter to 2ickie's mother, told her the state of his wardrobe, which was good, and his health, which was also good, and asked if she had received the enamel tri tych he had sent her from an antique store in #ome a cou le of weeks ago. )hile he wrote, he was thinking of what he had to do about Thomas #i ley. The quest was a arently very courteous and lukewarm, but it wouldn't do to take wild chances. He shouldn't have Tom's ass ort lying right in a ocket of his suitcase, even if it was wra ed u in a lot of old income ta1 a ers of 2ickie's so that it wasn't visible to a custom ins ector's eyes. He should hide it in the lining of the new antelo e suitcase, for instance, where it couldn't be seen even if the suitcase were em tied, yet where he could get at it on a few minutes' notice if he had to. 3ecause some day he might have to. There might come a time when it would be more dangerous to be 2ickie Greenleaf than to be Tom #i ley. Tom s ent half the morning on the letter to the Greenleafs. He had a feeling that ,r Greenleaf was getting restless and im atient with 2ickie, not in the same way that he had been im atient when Tom had seen him in -ew 0ork, but in a much more serious way. ,r Greenleaf thought his removal from ,ongibello to #ome had been merely an erratic whim, Tom knew. Tom's attem t to make his ainting and studying in #ome sound constructive had really been a failure. ,r Greenleaf had dismissed it with a withering remark8 something about his being sorry that he was still torturing himself with ainting at all,
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because he should have learned by now that it took more than beautiful scenery or a change of scene to make a ainter. ,r Greenleaf had also not been much im ressed by the interest Tom had shown in the 3urke(Greenleaf folders that ,r Greenleaf had sent him. .t was a far cry from what Tom had e1 ected by this time8 that he would have ,r Greenleaf eating out of his hand, that he would have made u for all 2ickie's negligence and unconcern for his arents in the ast, and that he could ask ,r Greenleaf for some e1tra money and get it. He couldn't ossibly ask ,r Greenleaf for money now. Take care of yourself, moms Jhe wroteK. )atch out for those colds, J$he had said she'd had four colds this winter, and had s ent, Christmas ro ed u in bed, wearing the ink woollen shawl he had sent her as one of his Christmas resents.K .f you'd been wearing a air of those wonderful woollen socks you sent me, you never(would have caught the colds. . haven't had a cold this winter, which is something to boast about in a 4uro ean winter... ,oms, can . send you something from here% . en*oy buying things for you...
9? "ive days assed, calm, solitary but very agreeable days in which he rambled about 'alermo, sto ing here and there to sit for an hour or so in a cafGH or a restaurant and read his guidebooks and the news a ers. He took a carrb//a one gloomy day and rode all the way to ,onte 'elligrino to visit the fantastic tomb of $anta #osalia, the atron saint of 'alermo, de icted in a famous statue, which Tom had seen ictures of in #ome, in one of those states of fro/en ecstasy that are given other names by sychiatrists. Tom found the tomb vastly amusing. He could hardly kee from giggling when he saw the statue8 the lush, reclining female body, the gro ing hands, the da/ed eyes, the arted li s. .t was all there but the actual sound of the anting. He thought of ,arge. He visited a 3y/antine alace, the 'alermo library with its aintings and old cracked manuscri ts in glass cases, and studied the formation of the harbour, which was carefully diagrammed
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in his guidebook. He made a sketch of a ainting by Guido #eni, for no articular ur ose, and memorised a long inscri tion by Tasso on one of the ublic buildings. He wrote letters to 3ob 2elancey and to Cleo in -ew 0ork, a long letter to Cleo describing his travels, his leasures, and his multifarious acquaintances with the convincing ardour of ,arco 'olo describing China. 3ut he was lonely. .t was not like the sensation in 'aris of being alone yet not alone. He had imagined himself acquiring a bright new circle of friends with whom he would start a new life with new attitudes, standards, and habits that would be far better and clearer than those he had had all his life. -ow he realised that it couldn't be. He would have to kee a distance from eo le, always. He might acquire the different standards and habits, but he could never acquire the circle of friends((not unless he went to .stanbul or Ceylon, and what was the use of acquiring the kind of eo le he would meet in those laces% He was alone, and it was a lonely game he was laying. The friends he might make were most of the danger, of course. .f he had to drift about the world entirely alone, so much the better8 there was that much less chance that he would be found out. That was one cheerful as ect of it, anyway, and he felt better having thought of it. He altered his behaviour slightly, to accord with the role of a more detached observer of life. He was still courteous and smiling to everyone, to eo le who wanted to borrow his news a er in restaurants and to clerks he s oke to in the hotel, but he carried his head even higher and he s oke a little less when he s oke. There was a faint air of sadness about him now. He en*oyed the change. He imagined that he looked like a young man who had had an unha y love affair or some kind of emotional disaster, and was trying to recu erate in a civilised way, by visiting some of the more beautiful laces on the earth. That reminded him of Ca ri. The weather was still bad, but Ca ri was .taly. That glim se he had had of Ca ri with 2ickie had only whetted his a etite. Christ, had 2ickie been a bore that day+ ,aybe he should hold out until summer, he thought, hold the olice off until then. 3ut even more than Greece and the !cro olis, he wanted one ha y holiday in Ca ri, and to hell with culture for a while. He had read about Ca ri in winter((wind, rain, and solitude. 3ut still Ca ri+ There was Tiberius' 7ea and the 3lue Grotto, the la/a without eo le but still the la/a, and not a cobblestone changed. He might even go
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today. He quickened his ste s towards his hotel. The lack of tourists hadn't detracted from the CGYte d'!/ur. ,aybe he could fly to Ca ri. He had heard of a sea lane service from -a les to Ca ri. .f the sea lane wasn't running in "ebruary, he could charter it. )hat was money for% '3uon' giorno+ Come sta%' He greeted the clerk behind the desk with a smile. '! letter for you, signor. <rgentissimo,' the clerk said, smiling, too. .t was from 2ickie's bank in -a les. .nside the envelo e was another envelo e from 2ickie's trust com any in -ew 0ork. Tom read the letter from the -a les bank first. 1? "eb 1O(( ,ost esteemed signor8 .t has been called to our attention by the )endell Trust Com any of -ew 0ork, that there e1ists a doubt whether your signature of recei t of your remittance of five hundred dollars of 5anuary last is actually your own. )e hasten to inform you so that we may take the necessary action. )e have already deemed it ro er to inform the olice, but we await your confirmation of the o inion of our .ns ector of $ignatures and of the .ns ector of $ignatures of the )endell Trust Com any of -ew 0ork. !ny information you may be able to give us will be most a reciated, and we urge you to communicate with us at your earliest ossible convenience. (( ,ost res ectfully and obediently yours, 4milio di 3ragan/i $egretario Generale della 3anca di -a oli '.$. .n the case that your signature is in fact valid, we urge you des ite this to visit our offices in -a les as soon as ossible in order to sign your name again for our ermanent records. )e enclose a letter to you sent in our care from the )endell Trust Com any. Tom ri ed o en the trust com any's letter.
> "eb 1O((

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2ear ,r Greenleaf8 &ur 2e artment of $ignatures has re orted to us that in its o inion your signature of 5anuary on your regular monthly remittance, -o .EDID, is invalid. 3elieving this may for some reason have esca ed your notice, we are hastening to inform you, so that you may confirm the signing of the said cheque or confirm our o inion that the said cheque has been forged. )e have called this to the attention of the 3ank of -a les also. 4nclosed is a card for our ermanent signature file which we request you to sign and return to us. 'lease let us hear from you as soon as ossible. $incerely, 4dward T. Cavanach $ecretary Tom wet his li s. He'd write to both banks that he was not missing any money at all. 3ut would that hold them off for long% He had signed three remittances, beginning in 2ecember. )ere they going to go back and check on all his signatures now% )ould an e1 ert be able to tell that all three signatures were forged% Tom went u stairs and immediately sat down at the ty ewriter. He ut a sheet of hotel stationary into the roller and sat there for a moment, staring at it. They wouldn't rest with this, he thought. .f they had a board of e1 erts looking at the signatures with magnifying glasses and all that, they robably would be able to tell that the three signatures were forgeries. 3ut they were such damned good forgeries, Tom knew. He'd signed the 5anuary remittance a little fast, he remembered, but it wasn't a bad *ob or he never would have sent it off. He would have told the bank he lost the remittance and would have had them send him another. ,ost forgeries took months to be discovered, he thought. )hy had they s otted this one in four weeks% )asn't it because they were checking on him in every de artment of his life, since the "reddie ,iles murder and the $an #emo boat story% They wanted to see him ersonally in the -a les bank. ,aybe some of the men there knew 2ickie by sight. ! terrible, tingling anic went over his shoulders and down his legs. "or a moment he felt weak and hel less, too weak to move. He saw himself confronted by a do/en
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olicemen, .talian and !merican, asking him where 2ickie Greenleaf was, and being unable to roduce 2ickie Greenleaf or tell them where he was or rove that he e1isted. He imagined himself trying to sign H. #ichard Greenleaf under the eyes of a do/en handwriting e1 erts, and going to ieces suddenly and not being able to write at all. He brought his hands u to the ty ewriter keys and forced himself to begin. He addressed the letter to the )endell Trust Com any of -ew 0ork. 19 "eb, 1O(( 2ear $irs8 .n regard to your letter concerning my 5anuary remittance8 . signed the cheque in question myself and received the money in . full. .f . had missed the cheque, . should of course have informed you at once. . am enclosing the card with my signature for your ermanent record as you requested. $incerely, H. #ichard Greenleaf He signed 2ickie's signature several times on the back of the trust com any's envelo e before he signed his letter and then the card. Then he wrote a similar letter to the -a les bank, and romised to call at the bank within the ne1t few days and sign his name again for their ermanent record. He marked both envelo es '<rgentissimo', went downstairs and bought stam s from the orter and osted them. Then he went out for a walk. His desire to go to Ca ri had vanished. .t was four(fifteen in the afternoon. He ke t walking, aimlessly. "inally, he sto ed in front of an antique sho window and stared for several minutes at a gloomy oil ainting of two bearded saints descending a dark hill in moonlight. He went into the sho and bought it for the first rice the man quoted to him. .t was not even framed, and he carried it rolled u under his arm back to his hotel.
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91 EC $ta/ione 'oli/ia #oma 1I "eb, 1O(( ,ost esteemed $ignor Greenleaf8 0ou are urgently requested to come to #ome to answer some im ortant questions concerning Thomas #i ley. 0our resence would be most a reciated and would greatly e1 edite our investigations. "ailure to resent yourself within a week will cause us to take certain measures which will be inconvenient both to us and to you. ,ost res ectfully yours, Ca . 4nrico "arrara $o they were still looking for Tom. 3ut maybe it meant that something had ha ened on the ,iles case, too, Tom thought. The .talians didn't summon an !merican in words like these. That last aragra h was a lain threat. !nd of course they knew about the forged cheque by now. He stood with the letter in his hand, looking blankly around the room. He caught sight of himself in the mirror, the corners of his mouth turned down, his eyes an1ious and scared. He looked as if he were trying to convey the emotions of fear and shock by his osture and his e1 ression, and because the way he looked was involuntary and real, he became suddenly twice as frightened. He folded the letter and ocketed it, then took it out of his ocket and tore it to bits. He began to ack ra idly, snatching his robe and y*amas from the bathroom door, throwing his toilet articles into the leather kit with 2ickie's initials that ,arge had given him for Christmas. He sto ed suddenly. He had to get rid of 2ickie's belongings, all of them. Here% -ow% $hould he throw them over board on the way back to -a les% The question didn't answer itself, but he suddenly knew what he had to do, what he was going to do when he got back to .taly. He
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would not go anywhere near #ome. He could go straight u to ,ilan or Turin, or maybe somewhere near 6enice, and buy a car, second( hand, with a lot of mileage on it. He'd say he'd been roaming around .taly for the last two or three months. He hadn't heard anything about the search for Thomas #i ley. Thomas #ee ley. He went on acking. This was the end of 2ickie Greenleaf, he knew. He hated becoming Thomas #i ley again, hated being nobody, hated utting on his old set of habits again, and feeling that eo le looked down on him and were bored with him unless he ut on an act for them like a clown, feeling incom etent and inca able of doing anything with himself e1ce t entertaining eo le for minutes at a time. He hated going back to himself as he would have hated utting on a shabby suit of clothes, a grease(s otted, un ressed suit of clothes that had not been very good even when it was new. His tears fell on 2ickie's blue(and(white(stri ed shirt that lay u ermost in the suitcase, starched and clean and still as new(looking as when he had first taken it out of 2ickie's drawer in ,ongibello. 3ut it had 2ickie's initials on the ocket in little red letters. !s he acked he began to reckon u defiantly the things of 2ickie's that he could still kee because they had no initials, or because no one would remember that they were 2ickie's and not his own. 41ce t maybe ,arge would remember a few, like the new blue leather address book that 2ickie had written only a cou le of addresses in, and that ,arge had very likely given to him. 3ut he wasn't lanning to see ,arge again. Tom aid his bill at the 'alma, but he had to wait until the ne1t day for a boat to the mainland. He reserved the boat ticket in the name of Greenleaf, thinking that this was the last time he would ever reserve a ticket in the name of Greenleaf, but that maybe it wouldn't be, either. He couldn't give u the idea that it might all blow over. 5ust might. !nd for that reason it was senseless to be des ondent. .t was senseless to be des ondent, anyway, even as Tom #i ley. Tom #i ley had never really been des ondent, though he had often looked it. Hadn't he learned something from these last months% .f you wanted to be cheerful, or melancholic, or wistful, or thoughtful, or courteous, you sim ly had to act those things with every gesture. ! very cheerful thought came to him when he awoke on the last morning in 'alermo8 he could check all 2ickie's clothes at the !merican 41 ress in 6enice under a different name and reclaim them at some future time, if he wanted to or had to, or else never claim
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them at all. .t made him feel much better to know that 2ickie's good shirts, his studbo1 with all the cufflinks and the identification bracelet and his wrist(watch would be safely in storage somewhere, instead of at the bottom of the Tyrrhenian $ea or in some ashcan in $icily. $o, after scra ing the initials off 2ickie's two suitcases, he sent them, locked, from -a les to the !merican 41 ress Com any, 6enice, together with two canvases he had begun ainting in 'alermo, in the name of #obert $. "anshaw, to be stored until called for. The only things, the only revealing things, he ke t with him were 2ickie's rings, which he ut into the bottom of an ugly little brown leather bo1 belonging to Thomas #i ley, that he had somehow ke t with him for years everywhere he travelled or moved to, and which was otherwise filled with his own interesting collection of cuff(links, collar ins, odd buttons, a cou le of fountain( en oints, and a s ool of white thread with a needle stuck in it. Tom took a train from -a les u through #ome, "lorence, 3ologna, and 6erona, where he got out and went by bus to the town of Trento about forty miles away. He did not want to buy a car in a town as big as 6erona, because the olice might notice his name when he a lied for his licence lates, he thought. .n Trento he bought a second(hand cream(coloured 7ancia for the equivalent of about eight hundred dollars. He bought it in the name of Thomas #i ley, as his ass ort read, and took a hotel room in that name to wait the twenty(four hours until his licence lates should be ready. $i1 hours later nothing had ha ened. Tom had been afraid that even this small hotel might recognise his name, that the office that took care of the a lications for lates might also notice his name, but by noon the ne1t day he had his lates on his car and nothing had ha ened. -either was there anything in the a ers about the quest for Thomas #i ley, or the ,iles case or the $an #emo boat affair. .t made him feel rather strange, rather safe and ha y, and as if erha s all of it were unreal. He began to feel ha y even in his dreary role as Thomas #i ley. He took a leasure in it, overdoing almost the old Tom #i ley reticence with strangers, the inferiority in every duck of his head and wistful, sidelong glance. !fter all, would anyone, anyone, believe that such a character had ever done a murder% !nd the only murder he could ossibly be sus ected of was 2ickie's in $an #emo, and they didn't seem to be getting very far on that. 3eing Tom #i ley had one com ensation, at least8 it relieved his mind of guilt for the stu id,
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unnecessary murder of "reddie ,iles. He wanted to go straight to 6enice, but he thought he should s end one night doing what he intended to tell the olice he had been doing for several months8 slee ing in his car on a country road. He s ent one night in the back seat of the 7ancia, cram ed and miserable, somewhere in the neighbourhood of 3rescia. He crawled into the front seat at dawn with such a ainful crick in his neck he could hardly turn his head sufficiently to drive, but that made it authentic, he thought, that would make him tell the story better. He bought a guidebook of -orthern .taly, marked it u a ro riately with dates, turned down corners of its ages, ste ed on its covers and broke its binding so that it fell o en at 'isa. The ne1t night he s ent in 6enice. .n a childish way Tom had avoided 6enice sim ly because he e1 ected to be disa ointed in it. He had thought only sentimentalists and !merican tourists raved over 6enice, and that at best it was only a town for honeymooners who en*oyed the inconvenience of not being able to go anywhere e1ce t by a gondola moving at two miles an hour. He found 6enice much bigger than he had su osed, full of .talians who looked like .talians anywhere else. He found he could walk across the entire city via the narrow streets and bridges without setting foot in a gondola, and that the ma*or canals had a trans ortation system of motor launches *ust as fast and efficient as the subway system, and that the canals did not smell bad, either. There was a tremendous choice of hotels, from the Gritti and the 2anieli, which he had heard of, down to crummy little hotels and ensions in back alleys so off the beaten track, so removed from the world of olice and !merican tourists, that Tom could imagine living in one of them for months without being noticed by anyone. He chose a hotel called the Costan/a, very near the #ialto bridge, which struck the middle between the famous lu1ury hotels and the obscure little hostelries on the back streets. .t was clean, ine1 ensive, and convenient to oints of interest. .t was *ust the hotel for Tom #i ley. Tom s ent a cou le of hours ottering around in his room, slowly un acking his old familiar clothes, and dreaming out of the window at the dusk falling over the Canale Grande. He imagined the conversation he was going to have with the olice before long... )hy, . haven't any idea. . saw him in #ome. .f you've any doubt of that, you can verify it with ,iss ,ar*orie $herwood... &f course .'m Tom #i ley+
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AHe would give a laugh.B . can't understand what all the fuss is about+... $an #emo% 0es, . remember. )e brought the boat back after an hour... 0es, . came back to #ome after ,ongibello, but . didn't stay more than a cou le of nights. .'ve been roaming around the north of .taly... .'m afraid . haven't any idea where he is, but . saw him about three weeks ago... Tom got u from the windowsill smiling, changed his shirt and tie for the evening, and went out to find a leasant restaurant for dinner. ! good restaurant, he thought. Tom #i ley could treat himself to something e1 ensive for once. His billfold was so full of long ten(and twenty(thousand(lire notes it wouldn't bend. He had cashed a thousand dollars' worth of travellers' cheques in 2ickie's name before he left 'alermo. He bought two evening news a ers, tucked them under his arm and walked on, over a little arched bridge, through a long street hardly si1 feet wide full of leather sho s and men's shirt sho s, ast windows glittering with *ewelled bo1es that s illed out necklaces and rings like the bo1es Tom had always imagined that treasures s illed out of in fairy tales. He liked the fact that 6enice had no cars. .t made the city human. The streets were like veins, he thought, and the eo le were the blood, circulating everywhere. He took another street back and crossed the great quadrangle of $an ,arco's for the second time. 'igeons everywhere, in the air, in the light of sho s((even at night, igeons walking along under eo le's feet like sightseers themselves in their own home town+ The chairs and tables of the cafGHs s read across the arcade into the la/a itself, so that eo le and igeons had to look for little aisles through them to get by. "rom either end of the la/a blaring honogra hs layed in disharmony. Tom tried to imagine the lace in summer, in sunlight, full of eo le tossing handfuls of grain u into the air for the igeons that fluttered down for it. He entered another little lighted tunnel of a street. .t was full of restaurants, and he chose a very substantial and res ectable(looking lace with white tablecloths and brown wooden walls, the kind of restaurants which e1 erience had taught him by now concentrated on food and not the assing tourist. He took a table and o ened one of his news a ers. !nd there it was, a little item on the second age8 '&7.C4 $4!#CH "&# ,.$$.-G !,4#.C!- 2ickie Greenleaf, "riend of the ,urdered "reddie ,iles, ,issing !fter $icilian Holiday Tom bent close over the a er, giving it his full attention, yet he was conscious of a
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certain sense of annoyance as he read it, because in a strange way it seemed silly, silly of the olice to be so stu id and ineffectual, and silly of the news a er to waste s ace rinting it. The te1t stated that H. #ichard A'2ickie'B Greenleaf, a close friend of the late "rederick ,iles, the !merican murdered three weeks ago in #ome, had disa eared after resumably taking a boat from 'alermo to -a les. 3oth the $icilian and #oman olice had been alerted and were kee ing a vigilantissimo watch for him. ! final aragra h said that Greenleaf had *ust been requested by the #ome olice to answer questions concerning the disa earance of Thomas #i ley, also a close friend of Greenleaf. #i ley had been missing for about three months, the a er said. Tom ut the a er down, unconsciously feigning so well the astonishment that anybody might feel on reading in a news a er that he was 'missing', that he didn't notice the waiter trying to hand him the menu until the menu touched his hand. This was the time, he thought, when he ought to go straight to the olice and resent himself. .f they had nothing against him((and what could they have against Tom #i ley%((they wouldn't likely check as to when he had bought the car. The news a er item was quite a relief to him, because it meant that the olice really had not icked u his name at the bureau of automobile registration in Trento. He ate his meal slowly and with leasure, ordered an es resso afterwards, and smoked a cou le of cigarettes as he thumbed through his guidebook on -orthern .taly. 3y then he had had some different thoughts. "or e1am le, why should he have seen an item this small in the news a er% !nd it was in only one news a er. -o, he oughtn't to resent himself until he had seen two or three such items, or one big one that would logically catch his attention. They robably would come out with a big item before long8 when a few days assed and 2ickie Greenleaf still had not a eared, they would begin to sus ect that he was hiding away because he had killed "reddie ,iles and ossibly Tom #i ley, too. ,arge might have told the olice she s oke with Tom #i ley two weeks ago in #ome, but the olice hadn't seen him yet. He leafed through the guidebook, letting his eyes run over the colourless rose and statistics while he did some more thinking. He thought of ,arge, who was robably winding u her house in ,ongibello now, acking for !merica. $he'd see in the a ers about
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2ickie's being missing, and ,arge would blame him, Tom knew. $he'd write to 2ickie's father and say that Tom #i ley was a vile influence, at very least. ,r Greenleaf might decide to come over. )hat a ity he couldn't resent himself as Tom #i ley and quiet them down about that, then resent himself as 2ickie Greenleaf, hale and hearty, and clear u that little mystery, too+ He might lay u Tom a little more, he thought. He could stoo a little more, he could be shyer than ever, he could even wear horn( rimmed glasses and hold his mouth in an even sadder, droo ier manner to contrast with 2ickie's tenseness. 3ecause some of the olice he might talk to might be the ones who had seen him as 2ickie Greenleaf. )hat was the name of that one in #ome% #ovassini% Tom decided to rinse his hair again in a stronger solution of henna, so that it would be even darker than his normal hair. He looked through all the a ers a third time for anything about the ,iles case. -othing.
99 TH4 ne1t morning there was a long account in the most im ortant news a er, saying in only a small aragra h that Thomas #i ley was missing, but saying very boldly that #ichard Greenleaf was 'e1 osing himself to sus icion of artici ation' in the murder of ,iles, and that he must be considered as evading the ' roblem', unless he re resented himself to be cleared of sus icion. The a er also mentioned the forged cheques. .t said that the last communication from #ichard Greenleaf had been his letter to the 3ank of -a les, attesting that no forgeries had been committed against him. 3ut two e1 erts out of three in -a les said that they believed $ignor Greenleaf's 5anuary and "ebruary cheques were forgeries, concurring with the o inion of $ignor Greenleaf's !merican bank, which had sent hotostats of his signatures back to -a les. The news a er ended on a slightly facetious note8 'Can anybody commit a forgery against himself% &r is the wealthy !merican shielding one of his friends%'
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To hell with them, Tom thought. 2ickie's own handwriting changed often enough8 he had seen it on an insurance olicy among 2ickie's a ers, and he had seen it in ,ongibello, right in front of his eyes. 7et them drag out everything he had signed in the last three months, and see where it got them+ They a arently hadn't noticed that the signature on his letters from 'alermo was a forgery, too. The only thing that really interested him was whether the olice had found anything that actually incriminated 2ickie in the murder of "reddie ,iles. !nd he could hardly say that that really interested him, ersonally. He bought &ggi and 4 oca at a news stand in the corner of $an ,arco's. They were tabloid(si/ed weeklies full of hotogra hs, full of anything from murder to flag ole(sitting, anything s ectacular that was ha ening anywhere. There was nothing in them yet about the missing 2ickie Greenleaf. ,aybe ne1t week, he thought. 3ut they wouldn't have any hotogra hs of him in them, anyway. ,arge had taken ictures of 2ickie in ,ongibello, but she had never taken one of him. &n his ramble around the city that morning he bought some rimmed glasses at a sho that sold toys and gadgets for ractical *okers. The lenses were of lain glass. He visited $an ,arco's cathedral and looked all around inside it without seeing anything, but it was not the fault of the glasses. He was thinking that he had to identify himself, immediately. .t would look worse for him, whatever ha ened, the longer he ut it off. )hen he left the cathedral he inquired of a oliceman where the nearest olice station was. He asked it sadly. He felt sad. He was not afraid, but he felt that identifying himself as Thomas 'hel s #i ley was going to be one of the saddest things he had ever done in his life. '0ou are Thomas #ee ley%' the ca tain of olice asked, with no more interest than if Tom had been a dog that had been lost and was now found. ',ay . see your ass ort%' Tom handed it to him. '. don't know what the trouble is, but when . saw in the a ers that . am believed missing (' .t was all dreary, dreary, *ust as he had antici ated. 'olicemen standing around blank(faced, staring at him. ')hat ha ens now%' Tom asked the officer. '. shall tele hone to #ome,' the officer answered calmly, and icked u the tele hone on his desk. There was a few minutes' wait for the #ome line, and then, in an im ersonal voice, the officer announced to someone in #ome that the
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!merican, Thomas #ee ley, was in 6enice. ,ore inconsequential e1changes, then the officer said to Tom, 'They would like to see you in #ome. Can you go to #ome today%' Tom frowned. '. wasn't lanning to go to #ome.' '. shall tell them,' the officer said mildly, and s oke into the tele hone again. -ow he was arranging for the #ome olice to come to him. 3eing an !merican citi/en still commanded certain rivileges, Tom su osed. '!t what hotel are you staying%' the officer asked. '!t the Costan/a.' The officer gave this iece of information to #ome. Then he hung u and informed Tom olitely that a re resentative of the #ome olice would be in 6enice that evening after eight o'clock to s eak to him. 'Thank you,' Tom said, and turned his back on the dismal figure of the officer writing on his form sheet. .t had been a very boring little scene. Tom s ent the rest of the day in his room, quietly thinking, reading, and making further small alterations in his a earance. He thought it quite ossible that they would send the same man who had s oken to him in #ome, Tenente #ovassini or whatever his name was. He made his eyebrows a trifle darker with a lead encil. He lay around all afternoon in his brown tweed suit, and even ulled a button off the *acket. 2ickie had been rather on the neat side, so Tom #i ley was going to be notably slo y by contrast. He ate no lunch, not that he wanted any, anyway, but he wanted to continue losing the few ounds he had added for the role of 2ickie Greenleaf. He would make himself thinner than he had ever been before as Tom #i ley. His weight on his own ass ort was one hundred and fifty(five. 2ickie's was a hundred and si1ty(eight, though they were the same height, si1 feet one and one half. !t eight(thirty that evening his tele hone rang, and the switchboard o erator announced that Tenente #overini was downstairs. ')ould you have him come u , lease%' Tom said. Tom went to the chair that he intended to sit in, and drew it still farther back from the circle of light cast by the standing lam . The room was arranged to look as if he had been reading and killing time for the last few hours((the standing lam and a tiny reading lam were on, the counter ane was not smooth, a cou le of books lay o en
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face down, and he had even begun a letter on the writing table, a letter to !unt 2ottie. The tenente knocked. Tom o ened the door in a languid way. '3uona sera[' '3uona sera. Tenente #overini della 'oli/ia #omana.' The tenente's homely, smiling face did not look the least sur rised or sus icious. 3ehind him came another tall, silent young olice officer((not another, Tom realised suddenly, but the one who had been with the tenente when Tom had first met #overini in the a artment in #ome. The officer sat down in the chair Tom offered him, under the light. '0ou are a friend of $igner #ichard Grcenleaf%' he asked. '0es.' Tom sat down in the other chair, an armchair that he could slouch in. ')hen did you last see him and where%' '. saw him briefly in #ome, *ust before he went to $icily.' '!nd did you hear from him when he was in $icily%' The tenente was writing it all down in the notebook that he had taken from his brown briefcase. '-o, . didn't hear from him.' '!h(hah,' the tenente said. He was s ending more time looking at his a ers than at Tom. "inally, he looked u with a friendly, interested e1 ression. '0ou did not know when you were in #ome that the olice wanted to see you%' '-o. . did not know that. . cannot understand why . am said to be missing.' He ad*usted his glasses, and eered at the man. '. shall e1 lain later. $igner Greenleaf did not tell you in #ome that the olice wanted to s eak to you%' '-o.' '$trange,' he remarked quietly, making another notation. '$igner Greenleaf knew that we wanted to s eak to you. $igner Greenleaf is not very coo erative.' He smiled at Tom. Tom ke t his face serious and attentive. '$igner #ee ley, where have you been since the end oMN -ovember%' '. have been travelling. . have been mostly in the north of .taly.' Tom made his .talian clumsy, with a mistake here and there, and with quite a different rhythm from 2ickie's .talian. ')here%' The tencnte gri ed his en again. ',ilano, Torino, "aen/a(('isa ('
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')e have inquired at the hotels in ,ilano and "acn/a, for e1am le. 2id you stay all the time with friends%' '-o, .((sle t quite often in my car.' .t was obvious that he hadn't a great deal of money, Tom thought, and also that he was the kind of young man who would refer to rough it with a guidebook and a volume of $ilone or 2ante, than to stay in a fancy hotel. '. am sorry that . did not renew my ermisso di soggiorno,' Tom said contritely. '. did not know that it was such a serious matter.' 3ut he knew that tourists in .taly almost never took the trouble to renew their soggiorno, and stayed for months after stating on entering the country that they intended to be there for only a few weeks. ''ermesso di soggiorno,' the tenete said in a tone of gentle, almost aternal correction. 'Gra/ie.' ',ay . see your ass ort%' Tom roduced it from his inside *acket ocket. The tenente studied the icture closely, while Tom assumed the faintly an1ious e1 ression, the firmly arted li s, of the ass ort hotogra h. The glasses were missing from the hotogra h, but his hair was arted in the same manner, and his tie was tied in the same loose, triangular knot. The tenente glanced at the few stam ed entries that only artially filled the first two ages of the ass ort. '0ou have been in .taly since &ctober second, e1ce t for the short tri to "rance with $ignor Greenleaf%' '0es.' The tenente smiled, a leasant .talian smile now, and leaned forward on his knees. '4bbene, this settles one im ortant matter((the mystery of $an #emo boat.' Tom frowned. ')hat is that%' '! boat was found sunken there with some stains that were believed to be bloodstains. -aturally, when you were missing so far as we knew, immediately after $an #emo (' He threw his hands out and laughed. ')e thought it might have been advisable to ask $ignor Greenleaf what had ha ened to you. )hich we did. The boat was missed the same day that you two were in $an #emo+' He laughed again. Tom retended not to see the *oke. '3ut did not $ignor Greenleaf tell you that . went to ,ongibello after $an #emo% . did some (' he gro ed for a word '( little labours for him.' '3enone+' Tenente #overini said, smiling. He loosened his brass(
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buttoned overcoat comfortably, and rubbed a finger back and forth across the cris , bushy moustache. '2id you also know "red(derick ,ee(lays%' he asked. Tom gave an involuntary\sigh, because the boat incident was a arently closed. '-o. . only met him once when he was getting off the bus in ,ongibello. . never saw him again.' '!h(hah,' said the tenente, taking this in. He was silent a minute, as if he had run out of questions, then he smiled. '!h ,ongibello+ ! beautiful village, is it not% ,y wife comes from ,ongibello.' '!h, indeed+' Tom said leasantly. '$i. ,y wife and . went there on our honeymoon.' '! most beautiful village,' Tom said. 'Gra/ie.' He acce ted the -a/ionale that the tenente offered him. Tom felt that this was erha s a olite .talian interlude, a rest between rounds. They were surely going to get into 2ickie's rivate life, the forged cheques and all the rest. Tom said seriously in his lodding .talian. '. have read in a news a er that the olice think that $igner Greenleaf may be guilty of the murder of "reddie ,iles, if he does not resent himself. .t is true that they think he is guilty%' '!h, no, no, no+' the tenente rotested. '3ut it is im erative that he resent himself+ )hy is he hiding from us%' '. don't know. !s you say((he is not very coo erative,' Tom commented solemnly. 'He was not enough coo erative to tell me in #ome that the olice wanted to s eak with me. 3ut at the same time((. cannot believe it is ossible that he killed "reddie ,iles.' '3ut((you see, a man has said in #ome that he saw two men standing beside the car of $ignor ,ee(lays across the street from the house of $ignor Greenleaf, and that they were both drunk or'((he aused for effect, looking at Tom '( erha s one man was dead, because the other was holding him u beside the car+ &f course, we cannot say that the man who was being su orted was $ignor ,ee( lays or $ignor Greenleaf,' he added, 'but if we could find $ignor Greenleaf, we could at least ask him if he was so drunk that $ignor ,ee(lays had to hold him u .' He laughed. '.t is a very serious matter.' '0es, . can see that.' '0ou have absolutely no idea where $ignor Greenleaf might be at this moment%' '-o. !bsolutely no.' The tenente mused. '$ignor Greenleaf and $ignor ,ee(lays had
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no quarrel that you know of%' '-o, but (' '3ut%' Tom continued slowly, doing it *ust right. '. know that 2ickie did not go to a ski arty that "reddie ,iles had invited him to. . remember that . was sur rised that he had not gone. He did not tell me why.' '. know about the ski arty. .n Cortina d'!m e//o. !re you sure there was no woman involved%' Tom's sense of humour tugged at him, but he retended to think this one over carefully. '. do not think so.' ')hat about the girl, ,ar*orie $herwood%' '. su ose it is ossible,' Tom said, 'but . do not think so. . am erha s not the erson to answer questions about $igner Greenleaf's ersonal life.' '$igner Greenleaf never talked to you about his affairs of the heart%' the tenente asked with a 7atin astonishment. He could lead them on indefinitely, Tom thought. ,arge would back it u , *ust by the emotional way she would react to questions about 2ickie, and the .talian olice could never get to the bottom of $igner Greenleaf's emotional involvements. He hadn't been able to himself+ '-o,' Tom said. '. cannot say that 2ickie ever talked to me about his most ersonal life. . know he is very fond of ,ar*orie.' He added, '$he also knew "reddie ,iles.' 'How well did she know him%' ')ell (' Tom acted as if he might say more if he chose. The tenente leaned forward. '$ince you lived for a time with $igner Greenleaf in ,ongibello, you are erha s in a osition to tell us about $igner Greenleaf's attachments in general. They are most im ortant.' ')hy don't you s eak to $ignorina $herwood%' Tom suggested. ')e have s oken to her in #ome((before $igner Greenlcaf disa eared. . have arranged to s eak to her again when she comes to Genoa to embark for !merica. $he is now in ,unich.' Tom waited, silent. The tenente was waiting for him to contribute something more. Tom felt quite comfortable now. .t was going *ust as he had ho ed in his most o timistic moments8 the olice held nothing against him at all, and they sus ected him of nothing. Tom felt suddenly innocent and strong, as free of guilt as his old suitcase from which he had carefully scrubbed the 2e onimento sticker from the
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'alermo baggage(room. He said in his earnest, careful, #i ley(like way, '. remember that ,ar*orie said for a while in ,ongibello that she would not go to Cortina, and later she changed her mind. 3ut . do not know why. .f that could mean anything (' '3ut she never went to Cortina.' '-o, but only because $ignor Greenleaf did not go, . think. !t least, $ignorina $herwood likes him so much that she would not go alone on a holiday after she e1 ected to go on the holiday with him.' '2o you think they had a quarrel, $igners ,ee(lays and Greenleaf, about $ignerina $herwood%' '. cannot say. .t is ossible. . know that $ignor ,iles was very fond of her, too.' '!h(hah.' The tenente frowned, trying to figure all that out. He glanced u at the younger oliceman, who was evidently listening, though, from his immobile face, he had nothing to contribute. )hat he had said gave a icture of 2ickie as a sulking lover, Tom thought, unwilling to let ,arge go to Cortina to have some fun, because she liked "reddie ,iles too much. The idea of anybody, ,arge es ecially, liking that wall(eyed o1 in reference to 2ickie made Tom smile. He turned the smile into an e1 ression of non( com rehension. '2o you actually think 2ickie is running away from something, or do you think it is an accident that you cannot find him%' '&h, no. This is too much. "irst, the matter of the cheques. 0ou erha s know about that from the news a ers.' '. do not com letely understand about the cheques.' The officer e1 lained. He knew the dates of the cheques and the number of eo le who believed they were forged. He e1 lained that $ignor Greenleaf had denied the forgeries. '3ut when the bank wishes to see him again about a forgery against himself, and also the olice in #ome wish to see him again about the murder of his friend, and he suddenly vanishes (' The tenente threw out his hands. 'That can only mean that he is running away from us.' '0ou don't think someone may have murdered him%' Tom said softly. The officer shrugged, holding his shoulders u under his ears for at least a quarter of a minute. '. do not think so. The facts are not like that. -ot quite. 4bbene((we have checked by radio every boat of any si/e with assengers which has left from .taly. He has either taken a small boat, and it must have been as small as a fishing boat, or else he is
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hiding in .taly. &r of course, anywhere else in 4uro e, because we do not ordinarily take the names of eo le leaving our country, and $ignor Greenleaf had several days in which to leave. .n any case, he is hiding. .n any case, he acts guilty. $omething is the matter.' Tom stared gravely at the man. '2id you ever see $ignor Greenleaf sign any of those remittances% .n articular, the remittances of 5anuary and "ebruary%' '. saw him sign one of them,' Tom said. '3ut . am afraid it was in 2ecember. . was not with him in 5anuary and "ebruary.((2o you seriously sus ect that he might have killed $ignor ,iles%' Tom asked again, incredulously. 'He has no actual alibi,' the officer re lied. 'He says he was taking a walk after $ignor ,ee(lays de arted, but nobody saw him taking the walk.' He ointed a finger at Tom suddenly. '!nd((we have learned from the friend of $ignor ,ee(lays, $ignor 6an Houston, that $ignor ,ee(lays had a difficult time finding $ignor Greenleaf in #ome((as if $ignor Greenleaf were trying to hide from him. $ignor Greenleaf might have been angry with $ignor ,ee(lays, though, according to $ignor 6an Houston, $ignor ,ee(lays was not at all angry with $ignor Greenleaf+' '. see,' Tom said. '4cco,' the tenente said conclusively. He was staring at Tom's hands. &r at least Tom imagined that he was staring at his hands. Tom had his own ring on again, but did the tenente ossibly notice some resemblance% Tom boldly thrust this hand forward to the ashtray and ut out his cigarette. '4bbene,' the tenente said, standing u . 'Thank you so much for your hel , $ignor #ee ley. 0ou are one of the very few eo le from whom we can find out about $ignor Greenleaf's ersonal life. .n ,ongibello, the eo le he knew are e1tremely quiet. !n .talian trait, alas+ 0ou know, afraid of the olice.' He chuckled. '. ho e we can reach you more easily the ne1t time we have questions to ask you. $tay in the cities a little more and in the country a little less. <nless, of course, you are addicted to our countryside.' '. am+' Tom said heartily. '.n my o inion, .taly is the most beautiful country of 4uro e. 3ut if you like, . shall kee in touch with you in #ome so you will always know where . am. . am as much interested as you in finding my friend.' He said it as if his innocent mind had already
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forgotten the ossibility that 2ickie could be a murderer. The tenente handed him a card with his name and the address of his headquarters in #ome. He bowed. 'Gra/ie tante, $ignor #ee ley. 3uona sera+' '3uona sera,' Tom said. The younger oliceman saluted him as he went out, and Tom gave him a nod and closed the door. He could have flown((like a bird, out of the window, with s read arms+ The idiots+ !ll around the thing and never guessing it+ -ever guessing that 2ickie was running from the forgery questions because he wasn't 2ickie Greenleaf in the first lace+ The one thing they were bright about was that 2ickie Greenleaf might have killed "reddie ,iles. 3ut 2ickie Greenleaf was dead, dead, deader than a doornail and he, Tom #i ley, was safe+ He icked u the tele hone. ')ould you give me the Grand Hotel, lease,' he said in Tom #i ley's .talian. '.. ristorante, er iacere.(()ould you reserve a table for one for nine thirty% Thank you. The name is #i ley. #(i( (l(e(y.' Tonight he was going to have a dinner. !nd look out at the moonlight on the Grand Canal. !nd watch the gondolas drifting as la/ily as they ever drifted for any honeymooner, with the gondoliers and their oars silhouetted against the moonlit water. He was suddenly ravenous. He was going to have something luscious and e1 ensive to eat((whatever the Grand Hotel's s eciality was, breast of heasant or etto di olio, and erha s cannelloni to begin with, creamy sauce over delicate asta and a good val olicella to si while he dreamed about his future and lanned where he went from here. He had a bright idea while he was changing his clothes8 he ought to have an envelo e in his ossession, on which should be written that it was not to be o ened for several months to come. .nside it should be a will signed by 2ickie, bequeathing him his money and his income. -ow that was an idea.
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6enice 9E "eb, 1O(( 2ear ,r Greenleaf8 . thought under the circumstances you would not take it amiss if . wrote you whatever ersonal information . have in regard to #ichard((. being one of the last eo le, it seems, who saw him. . saw him in #ome around 9 "ebruary at the .nghilterra Hotel. !s you know, this was only two or three days after the death of "reddie ,iles. . found 2ickie u set and nervous. He said he was going to 'alermo as soon as the olice finished their questioning him in regard to "reddie's death, and he seemed eager to get away, which was understandable, but . wanted to tell you that there was a certain de ression underlying all this that troubled me much more than his obvious nervousness. . had the feeling he would try to do something violent(( erha s to himself. . knew also that he didn't want to see his friend ,ar*orie $herwood again, and he said he would try to avoid her if she came u from ,ongibello to see him because of the ,iles affair. . tried to ersuade him to see her. . don't know if he did. ,arge has a soothing effect on eo le, as erha s you know. )hat . am trying to say is that . feel #ichard may have killed himself. !t the time of writing he has not been found. . certainly ho e he will be before this reaches you. .t goes without saying that . am sure #ichard had nothing to do, directly or indirectly, with "reddie's death, but . think the shock of it and the questioning that followed did do something to u set his equilibrium. This is a de ressing message to send to you and . regret it. .t may be all com letely unnecessary and 2ickie may be Aagain understandably, according to his tem eramentB sim ly in hiding until these un leasantness blow over. 3ut as the time goes on, . begin to feel more uneasy myself. . thought it my duty to write you this, sim ly by way of letting you know... ,unich ,arch, 1O((( 2ear Tom8 Thanks for your letter. .t was very kind of you. .'ve answered the
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olice in writing, and one came u to see me. . won't be coming by 6enice, but thanks for your invitation. . am going to #ome day after tomorrow to meet 2ickie's father, who is flying over. 0es, . agree with you that it was a good idea for you to write to him. . am so bowled over by all this, . have come down with something resembling undulant fever, or maybe what the Germans call "oehn, but with some kind of virus thrown in. 7iterally unable to get out of bed for four days, otherwise .'d have gone to #ome before now. $o lease e1cuse this dis*ointed and robably feeble(minded letter which is such a bad answer to your very nice one. 3ut . did want to say . don't agree with you at all that 2ickie might have committed suicide. He *ust isn't the ty e, though . know all you're going to say about eo le never acting like they're going to do it, etc. -o, anything else but this for 2ickie. He might have been murdered in some back alley of -a les((or even #ome, because who knows whether he got u to #ome or not after he left $icily% . can also imagine him running out on obligations to such an e1tent that he'd be hiding now. . think that's what he's doing. .'m glad you think the forgeries are a mistake. &f the bank, . mean. $o do .. 2ickie has changed so much since -ovember, it could easily have changed his handwriting, too. 7et's ho e something's ha ened by the time you get this. Had a wire from ,r Greenleaf about #ome((so must save all my energy for that. -ice to know your address finally. Thanks again for your letter, your advice, and invitations. 3est, ,arge '.$. . didn't tell you my good news. .'ve got a ublisher interested in ',ongibello'+ $ays he wants to see the whole thing before he can give me a contract, but it really sounds ho eful . -ow if . can only finish the damn thing+ $he had decided to be on good terms with him, Tom su osed. $he'd robably changed her tune about him to the olice, too. 2ickie's disa earance was stirring u a great deal of e1citement in the .talian ress. ,arge, or somebody, had rovided the re orters
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with hotogra hs. There were ictures in 4 oca of 2ickie sailing his boat in ,ongibello, ictures of 2ickie in &ggi sitting on the beach in ,ongibello and also on Giorgio's terrace, and a icture of 2ickie and ,arge(('girl friend of both il s arito 2ickie and il assassinate "reddie'(( smiling, with their arms around each other's shoulders, and there was even a businesslike ortrait of Herbert Greenleaf, $r. Tom had gotten ,arge's ,unich address right out of a news a er. &ggi had been running a life story of 2ickie for the ast two weeks, describing his school years as 'rebellious' and embroidering his social life in !merica and his flight to 4uro e for the sake of his art to such an e1tent that he emerged as a combination of 4rrol "lynn and 'aul Gauguin. The illustrated weeklies always gave the latest olice re orts, which were ractically nil, added with whatever theorising the writers ha ened to feel like concocting that week. ! favourite theory was that he had run off with another girl((a girl who might have been signing his remittances((and was having a good time, incognito, in Tahiti or $outh !merica or ,e1ico. The olice were still combing #ome and -a les and 'aris, that was all. -o clues as to "reddie ,iles's killer, and nothing about 2ickie Greenleaf's having been seen carrying "reddie ,iles, or vice versa, in front of 2ickie's house. Tom wondered why they were holding that back from the news a ers. 'robably because they couldn't write it u without sub*ecting themselves to charges of libel by 2ickie. Tom was gratified to find himself described as 'a loyal friend' of the missing 2ickie Greenleaf, who had volunteered everything he knew as to 2ickie's character and habits, and who was as bewildered by his disa earance as anybody else. '$ignor #i ley, one of the young well(to(do !merican visitors in .taly,' said &ggi, 'now lives in a ala//o overlooking $an ,arco in 6enice.' That leased Tom most of all. He cut out that write(u . Tom had not thought of it as a ' alace' before, but of course it was what the .talians called a ala//o((a two(storey house of formal design more than two hundred years old, with a main entrance on the Grand Canal a roachable only by gondola, with broad stone ste s descending into the water, and iron doors that had to be o ened by an eight(inch(long key, besides the regular doors behind the iron doors which also took an enormous key. Tom used the less formal 'back door' usually, which was on the 6iale $an $ iridione, e1ce t when he wanted to im ress his guests by bringing them to his home in a gondola. The back door((itself fourteen feet high like the stone wall
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that enclosed the house from the street((led into a garden that was somewhat neglected but still green, and which boasted two gnarled olive trees and a birdbath made of an ancient(looking statue of a naked boy holding a wide shallow bowl. .t was *ust the garden for a 6enetian alace, slightly run down, in need of some restoration which it was not going to get, but indelibly beautiful because it had s rung into the world so beautiful more than two hundred years ago. The inside of the house was Tom's ideal of what a civilised bachelor's home should look like, in 6enice, at least8 a checkerboard black(and(white marble floor downstairs e1tending from the formal foyer into each room, ink(and(white marble floor u stairs, furniture that did not resemble furniture at all but an embodiment of cinquecento music layed on hautboys, recorders, and violas da gamba. He had his servants((!nna and <go, a young .talian cou le who had worked for an !merican in 6enice before, so that they knew the difference between a 3loody ,ary and a crGHme de menthe fra GH(( olish the carved fronts of the armoires and chests and chairs until they seemed alive with dim lustrous lights that moved as one moved around them. The only thing faintly modern was the bathroom. .n Tom's bedroom stood a gargantuan bed, broader than it was long. Tom decorated his bedroom with a series of anoramic ictures of -a les from 1>I? to about 1EE?, which he found at an antique store. He had given his undivided attention to decorating his house for more than a week. There was a sureness in his taste now that he had not felt in #ome, and that his #ome a artment had not hinted at. He felt surer of himself now in every way. His self(confidence had even ins ired him to write to !unt 2ottie in a calm, affectionate and forbearing tone that he had never wanted to use before, or had never before been able to use. He had inquired about her flamboyant health, about her little circle of vicious friends in 3oston, and had e1 lained to her why he liked 4uro e and intended to live here for a while, e1 lained so eloquently that he had co ied that section of his letter and ut it into his desk. He had written this ins ired letter one morning after breakfast, sitting in his bedroom in a new silk dressing(gown made to order for him in 6enice, ga/ing out of the window now and then at the Grand Canal and the Clock Tower of the 'ia//a $an ,arco across the water. !fter he had finished the letter he had made some more cotree and on 2ickie's own Hermes he had written 2ickie's will, bequeathing him his income and the money
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he had in various banks, and had signed it Herbert #ichard Greenleaf, 5r. Tom thought it better not to add a witness, lest the banks or ,r Greenleaf challenge him to the e1tent of demanding to know who the witness was, though Tom had thought of making u an .talian name, resumably someone 2ickie might have called into his a artment in #ome for the ur ose of witnessing the will. He would *ust have to take his chances on an unwitnessed will, he thought, but 2ickie's ty ewriter was so in need of re air that its quirks were as recognisable as a articular handwriting, and he had heard that hologra h wills required no witness. 3ut the signature was erfect, e1actly like the slim, tangled signature on 2ickie's ass ort. Tom ractised for half an hour before he signed the will, rela1ed his hands, then signed a iece of scra a er, then the will, in ra id succession. !nd he would defy anybody to rove that the signature on the will wasn't 2ickie's. Tom ut an envelo e into the ty ewriter and addressed it To )hom .t ,ay Concern, with a notation that it was not to be o ened until 5une of this year. He tucked it into a side ocket of his suitcase, as if he had been carrying it there for some time and hadn't bothered un acking it when he moved into the house. Then he took the Hermes 3aby in its case downstairs and dro ed it into the little inlet of the canal, too narrow for a boat, which ran from the front corner of his house to the garden wall. He was glad to be rid of the ty ewriter, though he had been unwilling to art with it until now. He must have known, subconsciously, he thought, that he was going to write the will or something else of great im ortance on it, and that was the reason why he had ke t it. Tom followed the .talian news a ers and the 'aris edition of the Herald(Tribune on the Greenleaf and ,iles cases with the an1ious concern befitting a friend of both 2ickie and "reddie. The a ers were suggesting by the end of ,arch that 2ickie might be dead, murdered by the same man or men who had been rofiting by forging his signature. ! #ome a er said that one man in -a les now held that the signature on the letter from 'alermo, stating that no forgeries had been committed against him, was also a forgery. &thers, however, did not concur. $ome man on the olice force, not #overini, thought that the cul rit or cul rits had been 'intimo' with Greenleaf, that they had had access to the bank's letter and had had the audacity to re ly to it themselves. 'The mystery is,' the officer was quoted, 'not only who the forger was but how he gained access to the letter, because the orter of the hotel remembers utting the registered bank letter into
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Greenleaf's hands. The hotel orter also recalls that Greenleaf was always alone in 'alermo...' ,ore hitting around the answer without ever hitting it. 3ut Tom was shaken for several minutes after he read it. There remained only one more ste for them to take, and wasn't somebody going to take it today or tomorrow or the ne1t day% &r did they really already know the answer, and were they *ust trying to ut him off guard((Tenente #overini sending him ersonal messages every few days to kee him abreast of what was ha ening in the search for 2ickie((and were they going to ounce on him one day soon with every bit of evidence they needed% .t gave Tom the feeling that he was being followed, es ecially when he walked through the long, narrow street to his house door. The 6iale $an $ iridione was nothing but a functional slit between vertical walls of houses, without a sho in it and with hardly enough light for him to see where he was going, nothing but unbroken house(fronts and the tall, firmly locked doors of the .talian house gates that were flush with the walls. -owhere to run to if he were attacked, no house door to duck into. Tom did not know who would attack him, if he were attacked. He did not imagine olice, necessarily. He was afraid of nameless, formless things that haunted his brain like the "uries. He could go through $an $ iridione comfortably only when a few cocktails had knocked out his fear. Then he walked through swaggering and whistling. He had his ick of cocktail arties, though in his first two weeks in his house he went to only two. He had his choice of eo le because of a little incident that had ha ened the first day he had started looking for a house. ! rental agent, armed with three huge keys, had taken him to see a certain house in $an $tefano arish, thinking it would be vacant. .t had not only been occu ied but a cocktail arty had been in rogress, and the hostess had insisted on Tom and the rental agent, too, having a cocktail by way of making amends for their inconvenience and her remissness. $he had ut the house u for rent a month ago, had changed her mind about leaving, and had neglected to inform the rental agency. Tom stayed for a drink, acted his reserved, courteous self, and met all her guests, who he su osed were most of the winter colony of 6enice and rather hungry for new blood, *udging from the way they welcomed him and offered their assistance in finding a house. They recognised his name, of course,
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and the fact that he knew 2ickie Greenleaf raised his social value to a degree that sur rised even Tom. &bviously they were going to invite him everywhere and qui/ him and drain him of every last little detail to add some s ice to their dull lives. Tom behaved in a reserved but friendly manner a ro riate for a young man in his osition((a sensitive young man, unused to garish ublicity, whose rimary emotion in regard to 2ickie was an1iety as to what had ha ened to him. He left that first arty with the addresses of three other houses he might look at Aone being the one he tookB and invitations to two other arties. He went to the arty whose hostess had a title, the Condessa #oberta ATitiB della 7atta(Cacciaguerra. He was not at all in the mood for arties. He seemed to see eo le through a mist, and communication was slow and difficult. He often asked eo le to re eat what they had said. He was terribly bored. 3ut he could use them, he thought, to ractise on. The naive questions they asked him A'2id 2ickie drink a lot%' and '3ut he was in love with ,arge, wasn't he%' and ')here do you really think he went%'B were good ractice for the more s ecific questions ,r Greenleaf was going to ask him when he saw him, if he ever saw him. Tom began to be uneasy about ten days after ,arge's letter, because ,r Greenleaf had not written or tele honed him from #ome. .n certain frightened moments, Tom imagined that the olice had told ,r Greenleaf that they were laying a game with Tom #i ley, and had asked ,r Greenleaf not to talk to him. 4ach day he looked eagerly in his mailbo1 for a letter from ,arge or ,r Greenleaf. His house was ready for their arrival. His answers to their questions were ready in his head. .t was like waiting interminably for a show to begin, for a curtain to rise. &r maybe ,r Greenleaf was so resentful of him Anot to mention ossibly being actually sus iciousB that he was going to ignore him entirely. ,aybe ,arge was abetting him in that. !t any rate, he couldn't take a tri until something ha ened. Tom wanted to take a tri , the famous tri to Greece. He had bought a guidebook of Greece, and he had already lanned his itinerary over the islands. Then, on the morning of ! ril fourth, he got a tele hone call from ,arge. $he was in 6enice, at the railroad station. '.'ll come and ick you u +' Tom said cheerfully. '.s ,r Greenleaf with you%F '-o, he's in #ome. .'m alone. 0ou don't have to ick me u . .'ve only got an overnight bag.'
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'-onsense+' Tom said, dying to do something. '0ou'll never find the house by yourself.' '0es, . will. .t's ne1t to della $alute, isn't it% . take the motoscafo to $an ,arco's, then take a gondola across.' $he knew, all right. ')ell, if you insist.' He had *ust thought that he had better take one more good look around the house before she got here. 'Have you had lunch%' '-o.' 'Good+ )e'll lunch together somewhere. )atch your ste on the motoscafo+' They hung u . He walked soberly and slowly through the house, into both large rooms u stairs, down the stairs and through his living( room. -othing, anywhere, that belonged to 2ickie. He ho ed the house didn't look too lush. He took a silver cigarette bo1, which he had bought only two days ago and had had initialled, from the living( room table and ut it in the bottom drawer of a chest in the dining( room. !nna was in the kitchen, re aring lunch. '!nna, there'll be one more for lunch,' Tom said. '! young lady.' !nna's face broke into a smile at the ros ect of a guest. '! young !merican lady%' '0es. !n old friend. )hen the lunch is ready, you and <go can have the rest of the afternoon off. )e can serve ourselves.' '6a bene,' !nna said. !nna and <go came at ten and stayed until two, ordinarily. Tom didn't want them here when he talked with ,arge. They understood a little 4nglish, not enough to follow a conversation erfectly, but he knew both of them would have their ears out if he and ,arge talked about 2ickie, and it irritated him. Tom made a batch of martinis, and arranged the glasses and a late of cana GHs on a tray in the living(room. )hen he heard the door knocker, he went to the door and swung it o en. ',arge+ Good to see you+ Come in+' He took the suitcase from her hand. 'How are you, Tom% ,y+((.s all this yours%' $he looked around her, and u at the high coffered ceiling. '. rented it. "or a song,' Tom said modestly. 'Come and have a drink. Tell me what's new. 0ou've been talking to the olice in #ome%' He carried her to coat and her trans arent raincoat to a chair.
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'0es, and to ,r Greenleaf. He's very u set((naturally.' $he sat down on the sofa. Tom seated himself in a chair o osite her. 'Have they found anything new% &ne of the olice officers there has been kee ing me osted, but he hasn't told me anything that really matters.' ')ell, they found out that 2ickie cashed over a thousand dollars' worth of traveller's cheques before he left 'alermo, 5ust before. $o he must have gone off somewhere with it, like Greece or !frica. He couldn't have gone off to kill himself after *ust cashing a thousand dollars, anyway.' '-o,' Tom agreed. ')ell, that sounds ho eful. . didn't see that in the a ers.' '. don't think they ut it in.' '-o. 5ust a lot of nonsense about what 2ickie used to eat for breakfast in ,ongibello,' Tom said as he oured the martinis. '.sn't it awful+ .t's getting a little better now, but when ,r Greenleaf arrived, the a ers were at their worst. &h, thanks+' $he acce ted the martini gratefully. 'How is he%' ,arge shook her head. '. feel so sorry for him. He kee s saying the !merican olice could do a better *ob and all that, and he doesn't know any .talian, so that makes it twice as bad.' ')hat's he doing in #ome%' ')aiting. )hat can any of us do% .'ve ost oned my boat again.((,r Greenleaf and . went to ,ongibello, and . questioned everyone there, mostly for ,r Greenleaf's benefit, of course, but they can't tell us anything. 2ickie hasn't been back there since -ovember.' '-o.' Tom si ed his martini thoughtfully. ,arge was o timistic, he could see that. 4ven now she had that energetic buoyancy that made Tom think of the ty ical Girl $cout, that look of taking u a lot of s ace, of ossibly knocking something over with a wild movement, of rugged health and vague untidiness. $he irritated him intensely suddenly, but he ut on a big act, got u and atted her on the shoulder, and gave her an affectionate eck on the cheek. ',aybe he's sitting in Tangiers or somewhere living the life of #iley and waiting for all this to blow over.' ')ell, it's damned inconsiderate of him if he is+' ,arge said, laughing. '. certainly didn't mean to alarm anybody when . said what . did
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about his de ression. . felt it was a kind of duty to tell you and ,r Greenleaf.' '. understand. -o, . think you were right to tell us. . *ust don't think it's true.' $he smiled her broad smile, her eyes glowing with an o timism that struck Tom as com letely insane. He began asking her sensible, ractical questions about the o inions of the #ome olice, about the leads that they had Athey had none worth mentioningB, and what she had heard on the ,iles case. There was nothing new on the ,iles case, either, but ,arge did know about "reddie and 2ickie's having been seen in front of 2ickie's house around eight o'clock that night. $he thought the story was e1aggerated ,aybe "reddie was drunk, or maybe 2ickie *ust had an arm around him. How could anybody tell in the dark% 2on't tell me 2ickie murdered him+' 'Have they any concrete clues at all that would make them think 2ickie killed him%' '&f course not+' 'Then why don't the so(and(so's get down to the business of finding out who really did kill him% !nd also where 2ickie is%' '4cco+' ,arge said em hatically. '!nyway, the olice are sure now that 2ickie at least got from 'alermo to -a les. ! steward remembers carrying his bags from his cabin to the -a les dock.' '#eally,' Tom said. He remembered the steward, too, a clumsy little oaf who had dro ed his canvas suitcase, trying to carry it under one arm. ')asn't "reddie killed hours after he left 2ickie's house%' Tom asked suddenly. '-o. The doctors can't say e1actly. !nd it seems 2ickie didn't have an alibi, of course, because he was undoubtedly alone. 5ust more of 2ickie's bad luck.' 'They don't actually believe 2ickie killed him, do they%' 'They don't say it, no. .t's *ust in the air. -aturally, they can't make rash statements right and left about an !merican citi/en, but as long as they haven't any sus ects and 2ickie's disa eared((Then also his landlady in #ome said that "reddie came down to ask her who was living in 2ickie's a artment or something like that. $he said "reddie looked angry, as if they'd been quarrelling. $he said he asked if 2ickie was living alone.' Tom frowned. '. wonder why%' '. can't imagine. "reddie's .talian wasn't the best in the world, and
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maybe the landlady got it wrong. !nyway, the mere fact that "reddie was angry about something looks bad for 2ickie.' Tom raised his eyebrows. '.'d say it looked bad for "reddie. ,aybe 2ickie wasn't angry at all.' He felt erfectly calm, because he could see that ,arge hadn't smelled out anything about it. '. wouldn't worry about that unless something concrete comes tout of it. $ounds like nothing at all to me.' He refilled her glass. '$ eaking of !frica, have they inquired around Tangiers yet% 2ickie used to talk about going to Tangiers.' '. think they've alerted the olice everywhere. . think they ought to get the "rench olice down here. The "rench are terribly good at things like this. 3ut of course they can't. This is .taly,' she said with the first nervous tremor in her voice. '$hall we have lunch here%' Tom asked. 'The maid is functioning over the lunch hour and we might as well take advantage of it.' He said it *ust as !nna was coming in to announce that the lunch was ready. ')onderful+' ,arge said. '.t's raining a little, anyway.' ''ronto la colla/ione, signor,' !nna said with a smile, staring at ,arge. !nna recognised her from the news a er ictures, Tom saw. '0ou and <go can go now if you like, !nna. Thanks.' !nna went back into the kitchen((there was a door from the kitchen to a little alley at the side of the house, which the servants used((but Tom heard her ottering around with the coffee maker, stalling for another glim se, no doubt. '!nd <go%' ,arge said. 'Two servants, no less%' '&h, they come in cou les around here. 0ou may not believe it, but . got this lace for fifty dollars a month, not counting heat.' '. don't believe it+ That's ractically like ,ongibello rates+' '.t's true. The heating's fantastic, of course, but .'m not going to heat any room e1ce t my bedroom.' '.t's certainly comfortable here.' '&h, . o ened the whole furnace for your benefit,' Tom said, smiling. ')hat ha ened% 2id one of your aunts die and leave you a fortune%' ,arge asked, still retending to be da//led. '-o, *ust a decision of my own. .'m going to en*oy what .'ve got as long as it lasts. . told you that *ob . was after in #ome didn't an out,
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and here . was in 4uro e with only about two thousand dollars to my name, so . decided to live it u and go home((broke((and start over again.' Tom had e1 lained to her in his letter that the *ob he had a lied for had been selling hearing aids in 4uro e for an !merican com any, and he hadn't been able to face it, and the man who had interviewed him, he said, hadn't thought him the right ty e, either. Tom had also told her that the man had a eared one minute after he s oke to her, which was why he had been unable to kee his a ointment with her in !ngelo's that day in #ome. 'Two thousand dollars won't last you long at this rate.' $he was robing to see if 2ickie had given him anything, Tom knew. '.t will last till summer,' Tom said matter(of(factly. '!nyway, . feel . deserve it. . s ent most of the winter going around .taly like a gy sy on ractically no money, and .'ve had about enough of that.' ')here were you this winter%' ')ell, not with Tom, . mean, not with 2ickie,' he said laughing, flustered at his sli of the tongue. '. know you robably thought so. . saw about as much of 2ickie as you did.' '&h, come on now,' ,arge drawled. $he sounded as if she were feeling her drinks. Tom made two or three more martinis in the itcher. '41ce t for the tri to Cannes and the two days in #ome in "ebruary, . haven't seen 2ickie at all.' .t wasn't quite true, because he had written her that 'Tom was staying' with 2ickie in #ome for several days after the Cannes tri , but now that he was face to face with ,arge he found he was ashamed of her knowing, or thinking, that he had s ent so much time with 2ickie, and that he and 2ickie might be guilty of what she had accused 2ickie of in her letter. He bit his tongue as he oured their drinks, hating himself for his cowardice. 2uring lunch((Tom regretted very much that the main dish was cold roast beef, a fabulously e1 ensive item on the .talian market(( ,arge qui//ed him more acutely than any olice officer on 2ickie's state of mind while he was in #ome. Tom was inned down to ten days s ent in #ome with 2ickie after the Cannes tri , and was questioned about everything from 2i ,assimo, the ainter 2ickie had worked with, to 2ickie's a etite and the hour he got u in the morning. 'How do you think he felt about me% Tell me honestly. . can take it.' '. think he was worried about you,' Tom said earnestly. '. think((well,
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it was one of those situations that turn u quite often, a man who's terrified of marriage to begin with (' '3ut . never asked him to marry me+' ,arge rotested. '. know, but (' Tom forced himself to go on, though the sub*ect was like vinegar in his mouth. '7et's say he couldn't face the res onsibility of your caring so much about him. . think he wanted a more casual relationshi with you.' That told her everything and nothing. ,arge stared at him in that old, lost way for a moment, then rallied bravely and said, ')ell, all that's water under the bridge by now. .'m only interested in what 2ickie might have done with himself.' Her fury at his a arently having been with 2ickie all winter was water under the bridge, too, Tom thought, because she hadn't wanted to believe it in the first lace, and now she didn't have to. Tom asked carefully, 'He didn't ha en to write to you when he was in 'alermo%' ,arge shook her head. '-o. )hy%' '. wanted to know what kind of state you thought he was in then. 2id you write to him%' $he hesitated. '0es((matter of fact, . did.' ')hat kind of a letter% . only ask because an unfriendly letter might have had a bad effect on him *ust then.' '&h((it's hard to say what kind. ! fairly friendly letter. . told him . was going back to the $tates.' $he looked at him with wide eyes. Tom en*oyed watching her face, watching somebody else squirm as they lied. That had been the filthy letter in which she said she had told the olice that he and 2ickie were always together. '. don't su ose it matters then,' Tom said, with sweet gentleness, sitting back. They were silent a few moments, then Tom asked her about her book, who the ublisher was, and how much more work she had to do. ,arge answered everything enthusiastically. Tom had the feeling that if she had 2ickie back and her book ublished by ne1t winter, she would robably *ust e1 lode with ha iness, make a loud, attractive loo and that would be the end of her. '2o you think . should offer to talk to ,r Greenleaf, too%' Tom asked. '.'d be glad to go to #ome (' &nly he wouldn't be so glad, he remembered, because #ome had sim ly too many eo le in it who had seen him as 2ickie Greenleaf. '&r do you think he would like to come here% . could ut him u . )here's he staying in #ome%'
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'He's staying with some !merican friends who have a big a artment. $omebody called -orthu in 6ia Puattro -ovembre. . think it'd be nice if you called him. .'ll write the address down for you.' That's a good idea. He doesn't like me, does he%' ,arge smiled a little. ')ell, frankly, no. . think he's a little hard on you, considering. He robably thinks you s onged off 2ickie.' ')ell, . didn't. .'m sorry the idea didn't work out about my getting 2ickie back home, but . e1 lained all that. . wrote him the nicest letter . could about 2ickie when . heard he was missing. 2idn't that hel any%' '. think it did, but((&h, .'m terribly sorry, Tom+ !ll over this wonderful tablecloth+' ,arge had turned her martini over. $he daubed at the crocheted tablecloth awkwardly with her na kin. Tom came running back from the kitchen with a wet cloth, ''erfectly all right,' he said, watching the wood of the table turn white in s ite of his wi ing. .t wasn't the tablecloth he cared about, it was the beautiful table. '.'m so sorry,' ,arge went on rotesting. Tom hated her. He suddenly remembered her bra hanging over the windowsill in ,ongibello. Her underwear would be dra ed over his chairs tonight, if he invited her to stay here. The idea re elled him. He deliberately hurled a smile across the table at her. '. ho e you'll honour me by acce ting a bed for the night. -ot mine,' he added, laughing, 'but .'ve got two rooms u stairs and you're welcome to one of them.' Thanks a lot. !ll right, . will.' $he beamed at him. Tom installed her in his own room((the bed in the other room being only an outsi/ed couch and not so comfortable as his double bed((and ,arge closed her door to take a na after lunch. Tom wandered restlessly through the rest of the house, wondering whether there was anything in his room that he ought to remove. 2ickie's ass ort had been in the lining of a suitcase which was now in his closet, he recalled, but the ass ort was with the rest of 2ickie's ossessions in 6enice now. He couldn't think of anything incriminating in the room, and he tried to ut his an1ieties out of his mind. 7ater he showed ,arge all around the house, showed her the shelf of leather(bound books in the room ne1t to his bedroom, books that he said had come with the house, though they were his own, bought in #ome and 'alermo and 6enice. He realised that he had had about ten of them in #ome, and that one of the young olice officers with #overini had bent close to them, a arently studying their
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tides. 3ut it was nothing really to worry about, he thought, even if the same olice officer were to come back. He showed ,arge the front entrance of the house, with its broad stone ste s. The tide was low and four ste s were bared now, the lower two covered with thick wet moss. The moss was a sli ery, long(filament variety, and hung over the edges of the ste s like messy dark(green hair. The ste s were re ellent to Tom, but ,arge thought them very romantic. $he bent over them, staring at the dee water of the canal. Tom had an im ulse to ush her in. 'Can we take a gondola and come in this way tonight%' she asked. '&h sure.' They were going out to dinner tonight, of course. Tom dreaded the long .talian evening ahead of them, because they wouldn't eat until ten, and then she'd robably want to sit in $an ,arco's over es ressos until two in the morning. Tom looked u at the ha/y, sunless 6enetian sky, and watched a gull glide down and settle on somebody else's front ste s across the canal. He was trying to decide which of his new 6enetian friends he would tele hone and ask if he could bring ,arge over for a drink around five o'clock. They would all be delighted to meet her, of course. He decided on the 4nglishman 'eter $mith(;ingsley. 'eter had an !fghan, a iano, and a well(equi ed bar. Tom thought 'eter would be best because 'eter never wanted anybody to leave. They could stay there until it was time for them to go to dinner.
9I Tom called ,r Greenleaf from 'eter $mith ;ingsley's house at about seven o'clock. ,r Greenleaf sounded friendlier than Tom had e1 ected, and sounded itifully hungry for the little crumbs Tom gave him about 2ickie. 'eter and ,arge and the "ranchettis((an attractive air of brothers from Trieste whom Tom had recently met((were in the ne1t room and able to hear almost every word he said, so Tom did it better than he would have done it com letely alone, he felt.
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'.'ve told ,arge all . know,' he said, 'so she'll be able to tell you anything .'ve forgotten. .'m only sorry that . can't contribute anything of real im ortance for the olice to work on.' 'These olice+' ,r Greenleaf said gruffly. '.'m beginning to think #ichard is dead. "or some reason the .talians arc reluctant to admit he might be. They act like amateurs((or old ladies laying at being detectives.F Tom was shocked at ,r Greenleaf s bluntness. about 2ickie's ossibly being dead. '2o you think 2ickie might have killed himself, ,r Greenleaf%' Tom asked quietly. ,r Greenleaf sighed. '. don't know. . think it's ossible, yes. -ever thought much of my son's stability, Tom.' '.'m afraid . agree with you,' Tom said. ')ould you like to talk to ,arge% $he's in the ne1t room.' '-o, no, thanks. )hen's she coming back%' '. think she said she'd be going back to #ome tomorrow. .f you'd ossibly like to come to 6enice, *ust for a slight rest, ,r Greenleaf, you're very welcome to stay at my house.' 3ut ,r Greenleaf declined the invitation. .t wasn't necessary to bend over backwards, Tom realised. .t was as if he were really inviting trouble, and couldn't sto himself. ,r Greenleaf thanked him for his tele hone call and said a very courteous good night. Tom went back into the other room. 'There's no more news from #ome,' he said de*ectedly to the grou . '&h,' 'eter looked disa ointed. 'Here's for the hone call, 'eter,' Tom said, laying twelve hundred lire on to of 'eter's iano. 'Thanks very much.' '. have an idea,' 'ietro "ranchetti began in his 4nglish(accented 4nglish. '2ickie Greenleaf has traded ass orts with a -ea olitan fisherman or maybe a #oman cigarette eddler, so that he can lead the quiet life he always wanted to. .t so ha ens that the bearer of the 2ickie Greenleaf ass ort is not so good a forger as he thought he was, and he had to disa ear suddenly. The olice should find a man who can't roduce his ro er carta d'identitGV, find out who he is, then look for a man with his name, who will turn out to be 2ickie Greenleaf. 4verybody laughed, and Tom loudest of all. The trouble with that idea,' Tom said, 'is that lots of eo le who knew 2ickie saw him in 5anuary and "ebruary (' ')ho%' 'ietro interru ted with that irritating .talian belligerence in
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conversation that was doubly irritating in 4nglish. ')ell, . did, for one. !nyway, as . was going to say, the forgeries now date from 2ecember, according to the bank.' '$till, it's an idea,' ,arge chirru ed, feeling very good on her third drink, lolling back on 'eter's big chaise(longue. '! very 2ickie(like idea. He robably would have done it right after 'alermo, when he had the bank forgery business on to of everything else. . don't believe those forgeries for one minute. . think 2ickie'd changed so much that his handwriting changed.' '. think so, too,' Tom said. 'The bank isn't unanimous, anyway, in saying they're all forged. !merica's divided about it, and -a les fell right in with !merica. -a les never would have noticed a forgery if the <. $. hadn't told them about it.' '. wonder what's in the a ers tonight%' 'eter asked brightly, ulling on a sli er( like shoe that he had half taken off because it robably hurt. '$hall . go out and get them%[ 3ut one of the "ranchettis volunteered to go, and dashed out of the room. 7oren/o "ranchetti was wearing a ink embroidered waistcoat, all inglese, and an 4nglish(made suit and heavy(soled 4nglish shoes, and his brother was dressed in much the same way. 'eter, on the other hand, was dressed in .talian clothes from head to foot. Tom had noticed, at arties and at the theatre, that if a man was dressed in 4nglish clothes he was bound to be an .talian, and vice versa. $ome more eo le arrived *ust as 7oren/o came back with the a ers((two .talians and two !mericans. The a ers were assed around. ,ore discussion, more e1changes of stu id s eculation, more e1citement over today's news8 2ickie's house in ,ongibello had been sold to an !merican for twice the rice he originally asked for it. The money was going to be held by a -a les bank until Greenleaf claimed it. The same a er had a cartoon of a man on his knees, looking under his bureau. His wife asked, 'Collar button%' !nd his answer was, '-o, .'m looking for 2ickie Greenleaf.' Tom had heard that the #ome music halls were taking off the search in skits, too. &ne of the !mericans who had *ust come in, whose name was #udy something, invited Tom and ,arge to a cocktail arty at his hotel the following day. Tom started to decline, but ,arge said she would
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be delighted to come. Tom hadn't thought she would be here tomorrow, because she had said something at lunch about leaving. The arty would be deadly, Tom thought. #udy was a loudmouthed, crude man in flashy clothes who said he was an antique dealer. Tom manoeuvred himself and ,arge out of the house before she acce ted any more invitations that might be further into the future. ,arge was in a giddy mood that irritated Tom throughout their long five(course dinner, but he made the su reme effort and res onded in kind((like a hel less frog twitching from an electric needle, he thought((and when she dro ed the ball, he kicked it u and dribbled it a while. He said things like, ',aybe 2ickie's suddenly found himself in his ainting, and he's gone away like Gauguin to one of the $outh $ea .slands.' .t made him ill. Then ,arge would s in a fantasy about 2ickie and the $outh $ea .slands, making la/y gestures with her hands. The worst was yet to come, Tom thought8 the gondola ride. .f she dangled those hands in the water, he ho ed a shark bit them off. He ordered a dessert that he hadn't room for, but ,arge ate it. ,arge wanted a rivate gondola, of course, not the regular ferry( service gondola that took eo le over ten at a time from $an ,arco's to the ste s of $anta ,aria della $alute, so they engaged a rivate gondola. .t was one(thirty in the morning. Tom had a dark(brown taste in his mouth from too many es ressos, his heart was fluttering like bird wings, and he did not e1 ect to be able to slee until dawn. He felt e1hausted and lay back in the gondola's seat about as languidly as ,arge, careful to kee his thigh from touching hers. ,arge was still in ebullient s irits, entertaining herself now with a monologue about the sunrise in 6enice, which she had a arently seen on some other visit. The gentle rocking of the boat and the rhythmic thrusts of the gondolier's oar made Tom feel slightly sickish. The e1 anse of water between the $an ,arco boat sto and his ste s seemed interminable. The ste s were covered now e1ce t for the u er two, and the water swe t *ust over the surface of the third ste , stirring its moss in a disgusting way. Tom aid the gondolier mechanically, and was standing in front of the big doors when he realised he hadn't brought the keys. He glanced around to see if he could climb in anywhere, but he couldn't even reach a window ledge from the ste s. 3efore he even said anything, ,arge burst out laughing. '0ou didn't bring the key+ &f all things, stuck on the door ste with
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the raging waters around us, and no key+' Tom tried to smile. )hy the hell should he have thought to bring two keys nearly a foot long that weighed as much as a cou le of revolvers% He turned and yelled to the gondolier to come back. '!h+' the gondolier chuckled across the water. ',i dis lace, signer+ 2eb' ritornare a $an ,arco+ Ho un a untamento+' He ke t on rowing. ')e have no keys+' Tom yelled in .talian. ',i dis iace, signer+' re lied the gondolier. ',andarGY un altro gondoliere+' ,arge laughed again. '&h, some other gondolier'll ick us u . .sn't it beautiful%' $he stood on ti toe. .t was not at all a beautiful night. .t was chilly, and a slimy little rain had started falling. He might get the ferry gondola to come over, Tom thought, but he didn't see it. The only boat he saw was the motoscafo a roaching the $an ,arco ier. There was hardly a chance that the motoscafo would trouble to ick them u , but Tom yelled to it, anyway. The motoscafo, full of lights and eo le, went blindly on and nosed in at the wooden ier across the canal. ,arge was sitting on the to ste with her arms around her knees, doing nothing. "inally, a low(slung motor(boat that looked like a fishing boat of some sort slowed down, and someone yelled in .talian8 '7ocked out%' ')e forgot the keys+' ,arge e1 lained cheerfully. 3ut she didn't want to get into the boat. $he said she would wait on the ste s while Tom went around and o ened the street door. Tom said it might take fifteen minutes or more, and she would robably catch a cold there, so she finally got in. The .talian took them to the nearest landing at the ste s of the $anta ,aria della $alute church. He refused to take any money for his trouble, but he acce ted the rest of Tom's acket of !merican cigarettes. Tom did not know why, but he felt more frightened that night, walking through $an $ iridione with ,arge, than if he had been alone. ,arge, of course, was not affected at all by the street, and talked the whole way.
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Tom was awakened very early the ne1t morning by the banging of his door knocker. He grabbed his robe and went down. .t was a telegram, and he had to run back u stairs to get a ti for the man. He stood in the cold living(room and read it. CH!-G42 ,0 ,.-2. )&<72 7.;4 T& $44 04. !##.6.-G 11(I> !.,. (H. G#44-74!" Tom shivered. )ell, he had e1 ected it, he thought. 3ut he hadn't, really. He dreaded it. &r was it *ust the hour% .t was barely dawn. The living(room looked grey and horrible. That '04' gave the telegram such a cree y, archaic touch. Generally .talian telegrams had much funnier ty ogra hical errors. !nd what if they'd ut '#.' or '2.' instead of the 'H.'% How would he be feeling then% He ran u stairs and got back into his warm bed to try to catch some more slee . He ke t wondering if ,arge would come in or knock on his door because she had heard that loud knocker, but he finally decided she had sle t through it. He imagined greeting ,r Greenleaf at the door, shaking his hand firmly, and he tried to imagine his questions, but his mind blurred tiredly and it made him feel frightened and uncomfortable. He was too slee y to form s ecific questions and answers, and too tense to get to slee . He wanted to make coffee and wake ,arge u , so he would have someone to talk to, but he couldn't face going into that room and seeing the underwear and garter belts strewn all over the lace, he absolutely couldn't. .t was ,arge who woke him u , and she had already made coffee downstairs, she said. ')hat do you think%' Tom said with a big smile. '. got a telegram from ,r Greenleaf this morning and he's coming at noon.' 'He is% )hen did you get the telegram%' 'This morning early. .f . wasn't dreaming.' Tom looked for it. 'Here it is.' ,arge read it. 'F)ould like to see ye,F' she said, laughing a little. ')ell, that's nice. .t'll do him good, . ho e. !re you coming down or shall . bring the coffee u %' '.'ll come down,' Tom. said, utting on his robe.
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,arge was already dressed in slacks and a sweater, black corduroy slacks, well(cut and made to order, Tom su osed, because they fitted her gourd(like figure as well as ants ossibly could. They rolonged their coffee drinking until !nna and <go arrived at ten with milk and rolls and the morning a ers. Then they made more coffee and hot milk and sat in the living(room. .t was one of the mornings when there was nothing in the a ers about 2ickie or the ,iles case. $ome mornings were like that, and then the evening a ers would have something about them again, even if there was no real news to re ort, *ust by way of reminding eo le that 2ickie was still missing and the ,iles murder was still unsolved. ,arge and Tom went to the railroad station to meet ,r Greenleaf at eleven forty(five. .t was raining again, and so windy and cold that the rain felt like sleet on their faces. They stood in the shelter of the railroad station, watching the eo le come through the gate, and finally there was ,r Greenleaf, solemn and ashen. ,arge rushed forward to kiss him on the cheek, and he smiled at her. 'Hello, Tom+' he said heartily, e1tending his hand. 'How're you%' '6ery well, sir. !nd you%' ,r Greenleaf had only a small suitcase, but a orter was carrying it and the orter rode with them on the motoscafo, though Tom said he could easily carry the suitcase himself. Tom suggested they go straight to his house, but ,r Greenleaf wanted to install himself in a hotel first. He insisted. '.'ll come over as soon as . register. . thought .'d try the 'Gritti. .s that anywhere near your lace%' ,r Greenleaf asked. '-ot too close, but you can walk to $an ,arco's and take a gondola over,' Tom said. QRS )e'll come with you, if you *ust want to check in. . thought we might all have lunch together((unless you'd rather see ,arge by yourself for a while.' He was the old self(effacing #i ley again. 'Came here rimarily to talk to you+' ,r Greenleaf said. QRS .s there any news%' ,arge asked. ,r Greenleaf shook his head. He was casting nervous, absent( minded glances out the windows of the motoscafo, as if the strangeness of the city com elled him to look at it, though nothing of it was registering. He had not answered Tom's question about lunch. Tom folded his arms, ut a leasant e1 ression on his face, and did not try to talk any more. The boat's motor made quite a roar, anyway. ,r
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Greenleaf and ,arge were talking very casually about some eo le they knew in #ome. Tom gathered that ,arge and ,r Greenleaf got along very well, though ,arge had said she had not know him before she met him in #ome. They went to lunch at a modest restaurant between the Gritti and the #ialto, which s ecialised in seafoods that were always dis layed raw on a long counter inside. &ne of the lates held varieties of the little ur le octo uses that 2ickie had liked so much, and Tom said to ,arge, nodding towards the lates as they assed, 'Too bad 2ickie isn't here to en*oy some of those.' ,arge smiled gaily. $he was always in a good mood when they were about to eat. ,r Greenleaf talked a little more at lunch, but his face ke t its stony e1 ression, and he still glanced around as he s oke, as if he ho ed that 2ickie would come walking in at any moment8 -o, the olice hadn't found a blessed thing that could be called a clue, he said, and he had *ust arranged for an !merican rivate detective to come over and try to clear the mystery u . .t made Tom swallow thoughtfully((he, too, must have a lurking sus icion, or illusion, erha s, that !merican detectives were better than the .talian((but then the evident futility of it struck him as it was a arently striking ,arge, because her face had gone long and blank suddenly. 'That may be a very good idea,' Tom said. '2o you think much of the .talian olice%' ,r Greenleaf asked him. ')ell((actually, . do,' Tom re lied. 'There's also the advantage that they s eak .talian and they can get around everywhere and investigate all kinds of sus ects. . su ose the man you sent for s eaks .talian%' '. really don't know. . don't know,' ,r Greenleaf said in a flustered way, as if he realised he should have demanded that, and hadn't. 'The man's name is ,cCarron. He's said to be very good.' He robably didn't s eak .talian, Tom thought. ')hen is he arriving%' 'Tomorrow or the ne1t day. .'ll be in #ome tomorrow to meet him if he's there.' ,r Greenleaf had finished his vitello alia armigiana. He had not eaten much. 'Tom has the most beautiful house+' ,arge said, starting in on her
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seven layer rum cake. Tom turned his glare at her into a faint smile. The qui//ing, Tom thought, would come at the house, robably when he and ,r Greenleaf were alone. He knew ,r Greenleaf wanted to talk to him alone, and therefore he ro osed coffee at the restaurant where they were before ,arge could suggest having it at home. ,arge liked the coffee that his filter ot made. 4ven so, ,arge sat around with them in the living(room for half an hour after they got home. ,arge was inca able of sensing anything, Tom thought. "inally Tom frowned at her facetiously and glanced at the stairs, and she got the hint, cla ed her hand over her mouth and announced that she was going u to have a wee na . $he was in her usual invincibly merry mood, and she had been talking to ,r Greenleaf all during lunch as if of course 2ickie wasn't dead, and he mustn't, mustn't worry so much because it wasn't good for his digestion. !s if she still had ho es of being his daughter(in(law one day, Tom thought. ,r Greenleaf stood u and aced the floor with his hands in his *acket ockets, like an e1ecutive about to dictate a letter to his stenogra her. He hadn't commented on the lushness of the house, or even much looked at it, Tom noticed. ')ell, Tom,' he began with a sigh, 'this is a strange end, isn't it%' '4nd%' ')ell, you living in 4uro e now, and #ichard (' '-one of us has suggested yet that he might have gone back to !merica,' Tom said leasantly. '-o. That couldn't be. The immigration authorities in !merica are much too well alerted for that.' ,r Greenleaf continued to ace, not looking at him. ')hat's your real o inion as to where he may be%' ')ell, sir, he could be hiding out in .taly((very easily if he doesn't use a hotel where he has to register.' '!re there any hotels in .taly where one doesn't have to register%' '-o, not officially. 3ut anyone who knows .talian as well as 2ickie might get away with it. ,atter of fact, if he bribed some little innkee er in the south of .taly not to say anything, he could stay there even if the man knew his name was #ichard Greenleaf.' '!nd is that your idea of what he may be doing%' ,r Greenleaf looked at him suddenly, and Tom saw that itiful e1 ression he had noticed the first evening he had met him. '-o, .((.t's ossible. That's all . can say about it.' He aused. '.'m
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sorry to say it ,r Greenleaf, but . think there's a ossibility that 2ickie is dead.' ,r Greenleaf's e1 ression did not change. '3ecause of that de ression you mentioned in #ome% )hat e1actly did he say to you%' '.t was his general mood.' Tom frowned. 'The ,iles thing had obviously shaken him. He's the sort of man((He really does hate ublicity of any kind, violence of any kind.' Tom licked his li s. His agony in trying to e1 ress himself was genuine. 'He did say if one more thing ha ened, he would blow his to ((or he didn't know what he would do. !lso for the first time, . felt he wasn't interested in his ainting. ,aybe it was only tem orary, but u until then .'d always thought 2ickie had his ainting to go to, whatever ha ened to him.' '2oes he really take his ainting so seriously%' '0es, he does,' Tom said firmly. ,r Greenleaf looked off at the ceiling again, his hands behind him. '! ity we can't find this 2i ,assimo. He might know something. . understand #ichard and he were going to go together to $icily.' '. didn't know that,' Tom said. ,r Greenleaf had got that from ,arge, he knew. '2i ,assimo's disa eared, too, if he ever e1isted. .'m inclined to think #ichard made him u to try to convince me he was ainting. The olice can't find a ainter called 2i ,assimo on their((their identity lists or whatever it is.' '. never met him,' Tom said. '2ickie mentioned him a cou le of times. . never doubted his identity((or his actuality.' He laughed a little. ')hat did you say before about QRS if one more thing ha ened to himF% )hat else had ha ened to him%' ')ell, . didn't know then, in #ome, but . think . know what he meant now. They'd questioned him about the sunken boat in $an #emo. 2id they tell you about that%' '-o.' 'They found a boat in $an #emo, scuttled. .t seems the boat was missed on the day or around the day 2ickie and . were there, and we'd taken a ride in the same kind of boat. They were the little motor( boats eo le rented there. !t any rate, the boat was scuttled, and there were stains on it that they thought were bloodstains. They ha ened to find the boat *ust after the ,iles murder, and they couldn't find me at that time, because . was travelling around the country, so they asked 2ickie where . was. . think for a while, 2ickie
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must have thought they sus ected him of having murdered me+' Tom laughed. 'Good lord+' '. only know this, because a olice ins ector questioned me about it in 6enice *ust a few weeks ago. He said he'd questioned 2ickie about it before. The strange thing is that . didn't know . was being looked for((not very seriously, but still being looked for((until . saw it in the news a er in 6enice. . went to the olice station here and resented myself.' Tom was still smiling. He had decided days ago that he had better narrate all this to ,r Greenleaf, if he ever saw him, whether ,r Greenleaf had heard about the $an #emo boat incident or not. .t was better than having ,r Greenleaf learn about it from the olice, and be told that he had been in #ome with 2ickie at a time when he should have known that the olice were looking for him. 3esides, it fitted in with what he was saying about 2ickie's de ressed mood at that time. '. don't quite understand all this,' ,r Greenleaf said. He was sitting on the sofa, listening attentively. '.t's blown over now, since 2ickie and . are both alive. The reason . mention it at all is that 2ickie knew . was being looked for by the olice, because they had asked him where . was. He may not have known e1actly where . was at the first interview with the olice, but he did know at least that . was still in the country. 3ut even when . came to #ome and saw him, he didn't tell the olice he'd seen me. He wasn't going to be that co(o erative, he wasn't in the mood. . know this because at the very time ,arge talked to me in #ome at the hotel, 2ickie was out talking to the olice. His attitude was, let the olice find me themselves, he wasn't going to tell them where . was.' ,r Greenleaf shook his head, a kind of fatherly, mildly im atient shake of the head, as if he could easily believe it of 2ickie. '. think that was the night he said, if one more thing ha ened to him((.t caused me a little embarrassment when . was in 6enice. The olice robably thought . was a moron for not knowing before that . was being looked for, but the fact remains . didn't.' 'Hm(m,' ,r Greenleaf said uninterestedly. Tom got u to get some brandy. Tm afraid . don't agree with you that #ichard committed suicide,' ,r Greenleaf said. ')ell, neither does ,arge. . *ust said it's a ossibility. . don't even
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think it's the most likely thing that's ha ened.' '0ou don't% )hat do you think is%' 'That he's hiding,' Tom said. ',ay . offer you some brandy, sir% . imagine this house feels retty chilly after !merica.' '.t does, frankly.' ,r Greenleaf acce ted his glass. '0ou know, he could be in several other countries besides .taly, too,' Tom said. 'He could have gone to Greece or "rance or anywhere else after he got back to -a les, because no one was looking for him until days later.' '. know, . know,' ,r Greenleaf said tiredly.
9@ Tom had ho ed ,arge would forget about the cocktail arty invitation of the antique dealer at the 2anieli, but she didn't. ,r Greenleaf had gone back to his hotel to rest around four o'clock, and as soon as he had gone ,arge reminded Tom of the arty at five o'clock. '2o you really want to go%' Tom asked. '. can't even remember the man's name.' ',aloof. ,(a(l(o(o(f,' ,arge said. '.'d like to go. )e don't have to stay long.' $o that was that. )hat Tom hated about it was the s ectacle they made of themselves, not one but two of the rinci als in the Greenleaf case, cons icuous as a cou le of s otlighted acrobats at a circus. He felt((he knew((they were nothing but a air of names that ,r ,aloof had bagged, guests of honour that had actually turned u , because certainly ,r ,aloof would have told everybody today that ,arge $herwood and Tom #i ley were attending his arty. .t was unbecoming, Tom felt. !nd ,arge couldn't e1cuse her giddiness sim ly by saying that she wasn't worried a bit about 2ickie being missing. .t even seemed to Tom that ,arge gu//led the martinis because they were free, as if she couldn't get all she wanted at his house, or as if he wasn't going to buy her several more when they met
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,r Greenleaf for dinner. Tom si ed one drink slowly and managed to stay on the other side of the room from ,arge. He was the friend of 2ickie Greenleaf, when anybody began a conversation by asking him if he was, but he knew ,arge only slightly. ',iss $herwood is my house guest,' he said with a troubled smile. ')here's ,r Greenleaf% Too bad you didn't bring him,' ,r ,aloof said, sidling u like an ele hant with a huge ,anhattan in a cham agne glass. He wore a checked suit of loud 4nglish tweed, the kind of attern, Tom su osed, the 4nglish made, reluctantly, es ecially for such !mericans as #udy ,aloof. '. think ,r Greenleaf is resting,' Tom said. ')e're going to see him later for dinner.' '&h,' said ,r ,aloof. '2id you see the a ers tonight%' This last olitely, with a res ectfully solemn face. '0es, . did,' Tom re lied. ,r ,aloof nodded, without saying anything more. Tom wondered what inconsequential item he could have been going to re ort if he had said he hadn't read the a ers. The a ers tonight said that ,r Greenleaf had arrived in 6enice and was staying at the Gritti 'alace. There was no mention of a rivate detective from !merica arriving in #ome today, or that one was coming at all, which made Tom question ,r Greenleaf's story about the rivate detective. .t was like one of those stories told by someone else, or one of his own imaginary fears, which were never based on the least fragment of fact and which, a cou le of weeks later, he was ashamed that he could have believed. $uch as that ,arge and 2ickie were having an affair in ,ongibello, or were even on the brink of having an affair. &r that the forgery scare in "ebruary was going to ruin him and e1 ose him if he continued in the role of 2ickie Greenleaf. The forgery scare had blown over, actually. The latest was that seven out of ten e1 erts in !merica had said that they did not believe the cheques were forged. He could have signed another remittance from the !merican bank, and gone on forever as 2ickie Greenleaf, if he hadn't let his imaginary fears get the better of him. Tom set his *aw. He was still listening with a fraction of his brain to ,r ,aloof, who was trying to sound intelligent and serious by describing his e1 edition to the islands of ,urano and 3urano that morning. Tom set his *aw, frowning, listening, and concentrating doggedly on his own life. 'erha s he should believe ,r Greenleaf's
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story about the rivate detective coming over, until it was dis roven, but he would not let it rattle him or cause him to betray fear by so much as the blink of an eye, Tom made an absent(minded re ly to something ,r ,aloof had said, and ,r ,aloof laughed with inane good cheer and drifted off. Tom followed his broad back scornfully with his eyes, realising that he had been rude, was being rude, and that he ought to ull himself together, because behaving courteously even to this handful of second(rate antique dealers and bric(a(brac and ash(tray buyers((Tom had seen the sam les of their wares s read out on the bed in the room where they had ut their coats((was art of the business of being a gentleman. 3ut they reminded him too much of the eo le he had said good(bye to in -ew 0ork, he thought, that was why they got under his skin like an itch and made him want to run. ,arge was the reason he was here, after all, the only reason. He blamed her. Tom took a si of his martini, looked u at the ceiling, and thought that in another few months his nerves, his atience, would be able to bear even eo le like this, if he ever found himself with eo le like this again. He had im roved, at least, since he left -ew 0ork, and he would im rove still more. He stared u at the ceiling and thought of sailing to Greece, down the !driatic from 6enice, into the .onian $ea to Crete. That was what he would do this summer. 5une. 5une. How sweet and soft the word was, clear and la/y and full of sunshine+ His reverie lasted only a few seconds, however. The loud, grating !merican voices forced their way into his ears again, and sank like claws into the nerves of his shoulders and his back. He moved involuntarily from where he stood, moved towards ,arge. There were only two other women in the room, the horrible wives of a cou le of the horrible businessmen, and ,arge, he had to admit, was better(looking than either of them, but her voice, he thought, was worse, like theirs only worse. He had something on the ti of his tongue to say about their leaving, but, since it was unthinkable for a man to ro ose leaving, he said nothing at all, only *oined ,arge's grou and smiled. $omebody refilled his glass. ,arge was talking about ,ongibello, telling them about her book, and the three grey(tem led, seamy(faced, bald( headed men seemed to be entranced with her. )hen ,arge herself ro osed leaving a few minutes later, they had a ghastly time getting clear of ,aloof and his cohorts, who were a little drunker now and insistent that they all get together for dinner,
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and ,r Greenleaf, too. 'That's what 6enice is for((a good time+' ,r ,aloof ke t saying idiotically, taking the o ortunity to ut his arm around ,arge and maul her a little as he tried to make her stay, and Tom thought it was a good thing that he hadn't eaten yet because he would have lost it right then. ')hat's ,r Greenleaf's number% 7et's call him u +' ,r ,aloof weaved his way to the tele hone. '. think we'd better get out of here+' Tom said grimly into ,arge's ear. He took a hard, functional gri on her elbow and steered her towards the door, both of them nodding and smiling good(bye as they went. ')hat's the matter%F ,arge asked when they were in the corridor. '-othing. . *ust thought the arty was getting out of hand,' Tom said, trying to make light of it with a smile. ,arge was a little high, but not too high to see that something was the matter with him. He was ers iring. .t showed on his forehead, and he wi ed it. ''eo le like that get me down,' he said, 'talking about 2ickie all the time, and we don't even know them and . don't want to. They make me ill.' '"unny. -ot a soul talked to me about 2ickie or even mentioned his name. . thought it was much better than yesterday at 'eter's house.' Tom lifted his head as he walked and said nothing. .t was the class of eo le he des ised, and why say that to ,arge, who was of the same class% They called for ,r Greenleaf at his hotel. .t was still early for dinner, so they had a eritifs at a cafGH in a street near the Gritti. Tom tried to make u for his e1 losion at the arty by being leasant and talkative during dinner. ,r Greenleaf was in a good mood, because he had *ust tele honed his wife and found her in very good s irits and feeling much better. Her doctor had been trying a new system of in*ections for the ast ten days, ,r Greenleaf said, and she seemed to be res onding better than to anything he had tried before. .t was a quiet dinner. Tom told a clean, mildly funny *oke, and ,arge laughed hilariously. ,r Greenleaf insisted on aying for the dinner, and then said he was going back to his hotel because he didn't feel quite u to ar. "rom the fact that he carefully chose a asta dish and ate no salad, Tom thought that he might be suffering from the tourist's com laint, and he wanted to suggest an e1cellent
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remedy, obtainable in every drugstore, but ,r Greenleaf was not quite the erson one could say a thing like that to, even if they had been alone. ,r Greenleaf said he was going back to #ome tomorrow, and Tom romised to give him a ring around nine o'clock the ne1t morning to find out which train he had decided on. ,arge was going back to #ome with ,r Greenleaf, and she was agreeable to either train. They walked back to the Gritti((,r Greenleaf with his taut face(of(an( industrialist under his grey homburg looking like a iece of ,adison !venue walking through the narrow, /ig/agging streets((and they said good night. '.'m terribly sorry . didn't get to s end more time with you,' Tom said. '$o am ., my boy. ,aybe some other time,' ,r Greenleaf atted his shoulder. Tom walked back home with ,arge in a kind of glow. .t had all gone awfully well, Tom thought. ,arge chattered to him as they walked, giggling because she had broken a stra of her bra and had to hold it u with one hand, she said. Tom was thinking of the letter he had received from 3ob 2elancey this afternoon, the first word he'd gotten from 3ob e1ce t one ostcard ages ago, in which 3ob had said that the olice had questioned everybody in his house about an income ta1 fraud of a few months ago. The defrauder, it seemed, had used the address of 3ob's house to receive his cheques, and had gotten the cheques by the sim le means of taking the letters down from the letterbo1 edge where the ostman had stuck them. The ostman had been questioned, too, 3ob had said, and remembered the name George ,c!l in on the letters. 3ob seemed to think it was rather funny. He described the reactions of some of the eo le in the house when they were questioned by the olice. The mystery was, who took the letters addressed to George ,c!l in% .t was very reassuring. That income ta1 e isode had been hanging over his head in a vague way, because he had known there would be an investigation at some time. He was glad it had gone this far and no further. He couldn't imagine how the olice would ever, could ever, connect Tom #i ley with George ,c!l in. 3esides, as 3ob had remarked, the defrauder had not even tried to cash the cheques. He sat down in the living(room to read 3ob's letter again when he got home. ,arge had gone u stairs to ack her things and to go to
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bed. Tom was tired too, but the antici ation of freedom tomorrow, when ,arge and ,r Greenleaf would be gone, was so leasant to relish he would not have minded staying u all night. He took his shoes off so he could ut his feet u on the sofa, lay back on a illow, and continued reading 3ob's letter. 'The olice think it's some outsider who dro ed by occasionally to ick u his mail, because none of the do es in this house look like criminal ty es...' .t was strange to read about the eo le he knew in -ew 0ork, 4d and 7orraine, the newt( brained girl who had tried to stow herself away in his cabin the day he sailed from -ew 0ork. .t was strange and not at all attractive. )hat a dismal life they led, cree ing around -ew 0ork, in and out of subways, standing in some dingy bar on Third !venue for their entertainment, watching television, or even if they had enough money for a ,adison !venue bar or a good restaurant now and then, how dull it all was com ared to the worst little trattoria in 6enice with its tables of green salads, trays of wonderful cheeses, and its friendly waiters bringing you the best wine in the world+ '. certainly do envy you sitting there in 6enice in an old ala//o+' 3ob wrote. '2o you take a lot of gondola rides% How are the girls% !re you getting so cultured you won't s eak to any of us when you come back% How long are you staying, anyway%' "orever, Tom thought. ,aybe he'd never go back to the $tates. .t was not so much 4uro e itself as the evenings he had s ent alone, here and in #ome, that made him feel that way. 4venings by himself sim ly looking at ma s, or lying around on sofas thumbing through guidebooks. 4venings looking at his clothes((his clothes and 2ickie's(( and feeling 2ickie's rings between his alms, and running his fingers over the antelo e suitcase he had bought at Gucci's. He had olished the suitcase with a s ecial 4nglish leather dressing, not that it needed olishing because he took such good care of it, but for its rotection. He loved ossessions, not masses of them, but a select few that he did not art with. They gave a man self(res ect. -ot ostentation but quality, and the love that cherished the quality. 'ossessions reminded him that he e1isted, and made him en*oy his e1istence. .t was as sim le as that. !nd wasn't that worth something% He e1isted. -ot many eo le in the world knew how to, even if they had the money. .t really didn't take money, masses of money, it took a certain security. He had been on the road to it, even with ,arc 'riminger. He had a reciated ,arc's ossessions, and they were what had attracted him to the
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house, but they were not his own, and it had been im ossible to make a beginning at acquiring anything of his own on forty dollars a week. .t would have taken him the best years of his life, even if he had economised stringently, to buy the things he wanted. 2ickie's money had given him only an added momentum on the road he had been travelling. The money gave him the leisure to see Greece, to collect 4truscan ottery if he wanted Ahe had recently read an interesting book on that sub*ect by an !merican living in #omeB, to *oin art societies if he cared to and to donate to their work. .t gave him the leisure, for instance, to read his ,alrau1 tonight as late as he leased, because he did not have to go to a *ob in the morning. He had *ust bought a two(volume edition of ,alrau1's 'sychologic de .'art which he was now reading, with great leasure, in "rench with the aid of a dictionary. He thought he might na for a while, then read some of it, whatever the hour. He felt cosy and drowsy, in s ite of the es resso. The curve of the sofa fitted his shoulders like somebody's arm, or rather fitted it better than somebody's arm. He decided he would s end the night here. .t was more comfortable than the sofa u stairs. .n a few minutes he might go u and get a blanket. 'Tom%' He o ened his eyes. ,arge was coming down the stairs, barefoot. Tom sat u . $he had his brown leather bo1 in her hand. '. *ust found 2ickie's rings in here,' she said rather breathlessly. '&h. He gave them to me. To take care of.' Tom stood u . ')hen%' '.n #ome, . think.' He took a ste back, struck one of his shoes and icked it u , mostly in an effort to seem calm. ')hat was he going to do% )hy'd he give them to you%' $he'd been looking for a thread to sew her bra, Tom thought. )hy in hell hadn't he ut the rings somewhere else, like in the lining of that suitcase% '. don't really know,' Tom said. '! whim or something. 0ou know how he is. He said if anything ever ha ened to him, he wanted me to have his rings.' ,arge looked u//led. ')here was he going%' 'To 'alermo. $icily.' He was holding the shoe in both hands in a osition to use the wooden heel of it as a wea on. !nd how he would do it went quickly through his head8 hit her with the shoe, then haul her out by the front door and dro her into the canal. He'd say she'd fallen, sli ed on the moss. !nd she was such a good swimmer, he'd
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thought she could kee afloat. ,arge stared down at the bo1. 'Then he was going to kill himself.' '0es((if you want to look at it that way, the rings((They make it look more likely that he did.' ')hy didn't you say anything about it before%' '. think . absolutely forgot them. . ut them away so they wouldn't get lost and . never thought of looking at them since the day he gave them to me.' 'He either killed himself or changed his identity((didn't he%' '0es.' Tom said it sadly and firmly. '0ou'd better tell ,r Greenleaf.' '0es, . will. ,r Greenleaf and the olice.' 'This ractically settles it,' ,arge said. Tom was wringing the shoe in his hands like a air of gloves now, yet still kee ing the shoe in osition, because ,arge was staring at him in a funny way. $he was still thinking. )as she kidding him% 2id she know now% ,arge said earnestly, '. *ust can't imagine 2ickie ever being without his rings,' and Tom knew then that she hadn't guessed the answer, that her mind was miles u some other road. He rela1ed then, lim ly, sank down on the sofa and retended to busy himself with utting on his shoes. '-o,' he agreed, automatically. '.f it weren't so late, .'d call ,r Greenleaf now. He's robably in bed, and he wouldn't slee all night if . told him, . know.' Tom tried to ush a foot into the second shoe. 4ven his fingers were lim , without strengths He racked his brain for something sensible to say. '.'m sorry . didn't mention it sooner,' he brought out in a dee voice. '.t was *ust one of those (' '0es, it makes it kind of silly at this oint for ,r Greenleaf to bring a rivate detective over, doesn't it%' Her voice shook. Tom looked at her. $he was about to cry. This was the very first moment, Tom realised, that she was admitting to herself that 2ickie could be dead, that he robably was dead. Tom went towards her slowly. Tm sorry, ,arge. .'m sorry above all that . didn't tell you sooner about the rings.' He ut his arm around her. He fairly had to, because she was leaning against him. He smelled her erfume. The $tradivari, robably. 'That's one of the reasons . felt sure he'd killed himself (at least that he might have.' '0es,' she said in a miserable, wailing tone. $he was not crying,
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actually, only leaning against him with her head rigidly bent down. 7ike someone who has *ust heard the news of a death, Tom thought. )hich she had. 'How about a brandy%' he said tenderly. '-o.' 'Come over and sit on the sofa.' He led her towards it. $he sat down, and he crossed the room to get the brandy, oured brandy into two inhalers. )hen he turned around, she was gone. He had *ust time to see the edge of her robe and her bare feet disa ear at the to of the stairs. $he referred to be by herself, he thought. He started to take a brandy u to her, then decided against it. $he was robably beyond the hel of brandy. He knew how she felt. He carried the brandies solemnly back to the liquor cabinet. He had meant to our only one back, but he oured them both back, and then let it go and re laced the bottle among the other bottles. He sank down on the sofa again, stretched a leg out with his foot dangling, too e1hausted now even to remove his shoes. !s tired as after he had killed "reddie ,iles, he thought suddenly, or as after 2ickie in $an #etno. He had come so close+ He remembered his cool thoughts of beating her senseless with his shoe heel, yet not roughly enough to break the skin anywhere, of dragging her through the front hall and out of the doors with the lights turned off so that no one would see them, and his quickly invented story, that she had evidently sli ed, and thinking she could surely swim back to the ste s, he hadn't *um ed in or shouted for hel until((.n a way, he had even imagined the e1act words that he and ,r Greenleaf would say to each other afterwards, ,r Greenleaf shocked and astounded, and he himself *ust as a arently shaken, but only a arently. <nderneath he would be as calm and sure of himself as he had been after "reddie's murder, because his story would be unassailable. 7ike the $an #emo story. His stories were good because he imagined them intensely, so intensely that he came to believe them. "or a moment he heard his own voice saying8 '... . stood there on the ste s calling to her, thinking she'd come u any second, or even that she might be laying a trick on me... 3ut . wasn't sure she'd hurt herself, and she'd been in such good humour standing there a moment before...' He tensed himself. .t was like a honogra h laying in his head, a little drama taking lace right in the living(room that he was unable to sto . He could see himself with the .talian olice and ,r
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Greenleaf by the big doors that o ened to the front hall. He could see and hear himself talking earnestly. !nd being believed. 3ut what seemed to terrify him was not the dialogue or his hallucinatory belief that he had done it Ahe knew he hadn'tB, but the memory of himself standing in front of ,arge with the shoe in his hand, imagining all this in a cool, methodical way. !nd the fact that he had done it twice before. Those two other times were facts, not imagination. He could say he hadn't wanted to do them, but he had done them. He didn't want to be a murderer. $ometimes he could absolutely forget that he had murdered, he realised. 3ut sometimes(( like now((he couldn't. He had surely forgotten for a while tonight, when he had been thinking about the meaning of ossessions, and why he liked to live in 4uro e. He twisted on to his side, his feet drawn u on the sofa. He was sweating and shaking. )hat was ha ening to him% )hat had ha ened% )as he going to blurt out a lot of nonsense tomorrow when he saw ,r Greenleaf, about ,arge falling into the canal, and his screaming for hel and *um ing in and not finding her% 4ven with ,arge standing there with them, would he go beserk and s ill the story out and betray himself as a maniac% He had to face ,r Greenleaf with the rings tomorrow. He would have to re eat the story he had told to ,arge. He would have to give it details to make it better. He began to invent. His mind steadied. He was imagining a #oman hotel room, 2ickie and he standing there talking, and 2ickie taking off both his rings and handing them to him. 2ickie said8 '.t's *ust as well you don't tell anybody about this...'
9D ,arge called ,r Greenleaf at eight(thirty the ne1t morning to ask how soon they could come over to his hotel, she had told Tom. 3ut ,r Greenleaf must have noticed that she was u set. Tom heard her starting to tell him the story of the rings. ,arge used the same words that Tom had used to her about the rings (evidently ,arge had
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believed him((but Tom could not tell what ,r Greenleaf's reaction was. He was afraid this iece of news might be *ust the one that would bring the whole icture into focus, and that when they saw ,r Greenleaf this morning he might be in the com any of a oliceman ready to arrest Tom #i ley. This ossibility rather offset the advantage of his not being on the scene when ,r Greenleaf heard about the rings. ')hat did he say%' Tom asked when ,arge had hung u . ,arge sat down tiredly on a chair across the room. 'He seems to feel the way . do. He said it himself. .t looks as if 2ickie meant to kill himself.' 3ut ,r Greenleaf would have a little time to think about it before they got there, Tom thought. ')hat time are we due%' Tom asked. '. told him about nine(thirty or before. !s soon as we've had some coffee. The coffee's on now.' ,arge got u and went into be kitchen. $he was already dressed. $he had on the travelling suit that she had worn when she arrived. Tom sat u indecisively on the edge of the sofa and loosened his tie. He had sle t in his clothes on the sofa, and ,arge had awakened him when she had come down a few minutes ago. How he had ossibly sle t all night in the chilly room he didn't know. .t embarrassed him. ,arge had been ama/ed to find him there. There was a crick in his neck, his back, and his right shoulder. He felt wretched. He stood u suddenly. '.'m going u stairs to wash,' he called to ,arge. He glanced into his room u stairs and saw that ,arge had acked her suitcase. .t was lying in the middle of the floor, closed. Tom ho ed that she and ,r Greenleaf were still leaving on one of the morning trains. 'robably they would, because ,r Greenleaf was su osed to meet the !merican detective in #ome today. Tom undressed in the room ne1t to ,arge's, then went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. !fter a look at himself in the mirror he decided to shave first, and he went back to the room to get his electric ra/or which he had removed from the bathroom, for no articular reason, when ,arge arrived. &n the way back he heard the tele hone ring. !nd ,arge answered it. Tom leaned over the stairwell, listening. '&h, that's fine,' she said. '&h, that doesn't matter if we don't... 0es, .'ll tell him... !ll right, we'll hurry. Tom's *ust washing u ... &h, less than an hour. 3ye(bye.' He heard her walking towards the stairs, and he ste ed back because he was naked.
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'Tom%' she yelled u . 'The detective from !merica *ust got here+ He *ust called ,r Greenleaf and he's coming from the air ort+' '"ine+' Tom called back, and angrily went into the bedroom. He turned the shower off, and lugged his ra/or into the wall outlet. $u ose he'd been under the shower% ,arge would have yelled u , anyway, sim ly assuming that he would be able to hear her. He would be glad when she was gone, and he ho ed she left this morning. <nless she and ,r Greenleaf decided to stay to see what the detective was going to do with him. Tom knew that the detective had come to 6enice es ecially to see him, otherwise he would have waited to see ,r Greenleaf in #ome. Tom wondered if ,arge realised that too. 'robably she didn't. That took a minimum of deduction. Tom ut on a quiet suit and tie, and went down to have coffee with ,arge. He had taken his shower as hot as he could bear it, and he felt much better. ,arge said nothing during the coffee e1ce t that the rings should make a great difference both to ,r Greenleaf and the detective, and she meant that it should look to the detective, too, as if 2ickie had killed himself. Tom ho ed she was right. 4verything de ended on what kind of man the detective would be. 4verything de ended on the first im ression he made on the detective. .t was another grey, clammy day, not quite raining at nine o'clock, but it had rained, and it would rain again, robably towards noon. Tom and ,arge caught the gondola from the church ste s to $an ,arco, and walked from there to the Gritti. They tele honed u to ,r Greenleaf's room. ,r Greenleaf said that ,r ,cCarron was there, and asked them to come u . ,r Greenleaf o ened his door for them. 'Good morning,' he said. He ressed ,arge's arm in a fatherly way. 'Tom (' Tom came in behind ,arge. The detective was standing by the window, a short chunky man of about thirty(five. His face looked friendly and alert. ,oderately bright, but only moderately, was Tom's first im ression. 'This is !lvin ,cCarron,' ,r Greenleaf said. ',iss $herwood and ,r #i ley.' They all said, 'How do you do%' Tom noticed a brand(new briefcase on the bed with some a ers and hotogra hs lying around it. ,cCarron was looking him over. '. understand you're a friend of #ichard's%' he asked. ')e both
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are,' Tom said. They were interru ted for a minute while ,r Greenleaf saw that they were all seated. .t was a good(si/ed, heavily furnished room with windows on the canal. Tom sat down in an armless chair u holstered in red. ,cCarron had installed himself on the bed, and was looking through his sheaf of a ers. There were a few hotostated a ers, Tom saw, that looked like ictures of 2ickie's cheques. There were also several loose hotogra hs of 2ickie. '2o you have the rings%' ,cCarron asked, looking from Tom to ,arge. '0es,' ,arge said solemnly, getting u . $he took the rings from her handbag and gave them to ,cCarron. ,cCarron held them out in his alm to ,r Greenleaf 'These are his rings%' he asked, and ,r Greenleaf nodded after only a glance at them, while ,arge's face took on a slightly affronted e1 ression as if she were about to say, '. know his rings *ust as well as ,r Greenleaf and robably better.' ,cCarron turned to Tom. ')hen did he give them to you%' he asked. '.n #ome. !s nearly as . can remember, around "ebruary third, *ust a few days after the murder of "reddie ,iles,' Tom answered. The detective was studying him with his inquisitive, mild brown eyes. His lifted eyebrows ut a cou le of wrinkles in the thick(looking skin of his forehead. He had wavy brown hair, cut very short on the sides, with a high curl above his forehead, in a rather cute college(boy style. &ne couldn't tell a thing from that face, Tom thought8 it was trained. ')hat did he say when he gave them to you%' 'He said that if anything ha ened to him he wanted me to have them. . asked him what he thought was going to ha en to him. He said he didn't know, but something might.' Tom aused deliberately. 'He didn't seem more de ressed at that articular moment than a lot of other times. .'d talked to him, so it didn't cross my mind that he was going to kill himself. . knew he intended to go away, that was all.' ')here%' asked the detective. 'To 'alermo,' he said. Tom looked at ,arge. 'He must have given them to me the day you s oke to me in #ome((at the .nghilterra. That day or the day before. 2o you remember the date%' '"ebruary second,' ,arge said in a subdued voice. ,cCarron was making notes. ')hat else%' he asked Tom ')hat time of day was it% Had he been drinking%'
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'-o. He drinks very little. . think it was early afternoon. He said it would be *ust as well if . didn't mention the rings to anybody, and of course . agreed. . ut the rings away and com letely forgot about them, as . told ,iss $herwood((. su osed because .'d so im ressed on myself that he didn't want me to say anything about them.' Tom s oke straightforwardly, stammering a little, inadvertently, *ust as anybody might stammer under the circumstances, Tom thought. ')hat did you do with the rings%' '. ut them in an old bo1 that . have((*ust a little bo1 . kee odd buttons in.' ,cCarron regarded him for a moment in silence, and Tom took the moment to brace himself. &ut of that lacid yet alert .rish face could come anything, a challenging question, a flat statement that he was lying. Tom clung harder in his mind to his own facts, determined to defend them unto death. .n the silence, Tom could almost hear ,arge's breathing, and a cough from ,r Greenleaf made him start. ,r Greenleaf looked remarkably calm, almost bored. Tom wondered if he had fi1ed u some scheme with ,cCarron against him, based on the rings story% '.s he the kind of man to lend you the rings for luck for a short time% Had he ever done anything else like that%' ,cCarron asked. '-o,' ,arge said before Tom could answer., Tom began to breathe more easily. He could see that ,cCarron didn't know yet what he should make out of it. ,cCarron was waiting for him to answer. 'He had lent me certain things before,' Tom said. 'He'd told me to hel myself to his ties and *ackets now and then. 3ut that's quite a different matter from the rings, of course.' He had felt a com ulsion to say that, because ,arge undoubtedly knew about the time 2ickie had found him in his clothes. '. can't imagine 2ickie without his rings,' ,arge said to ,cCarron. 'He took the green one off when he went swimming, but he always ut it right on again. They were *ust like art of his dressing. That's why . think he was either intending to kill himself or he meant to change his identity.' ,cCarron nodded. 'Had he any enemies that you know of%' '!bsolutely none,' Tom said. '.'ve thought of that.' '!ny reason you can think of why he might have wanted to disguise himself, or assume another identity%' Tom said carefully, twisting his aching neck, ''ossibly((but it's ne1t
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to im ossible in 4uro e. He'd have had to have a different ass ort. !ny country he'd have entered, he would have had to have a ass ort. He'd have had to have a ass ort even to get into a hotel.' '0ou told me he might not have had to have a ass ort,' ,r Greenleaf said. '0es, . said that about small hotels in .taly. .t's a remote ossibility, of course. 3ut after all this ublicity about his disa earance, . don't see how he could still be kee ing it u ,' Tom said. '$omebody would surely have betrayed him by this time.' ')ell, he left with his ass ort, obviously,' ,cCarron said, 'because he got into $icily with it and registered at a big hotel.' '0es,' Tom said. ,cCarron made notes for a moment, then looked u at Tom. ')ell, how do you see it, ,r #i ley%' ,cCarron wasn't nearly finished, Tom thought. ,cCarron was going to see him alone later. Tm afraid . agree with ,iss $herwood that it looks as if he's killed himself, and it looks as if he intended to all along. .'ve said that before to ,r Greenleaf.' ,cCarron looked at ,r Greenleaf, but ,r Greenleaf said nothing, only looked e1 ectantly at ,cCarron. Tom had the feeling that ,cCarron was now inclined to think that 2ickie was dead, too, and that it was a waste of time and money for him to have come over. '. *ust want to check these facts again,' ,cCarron said, still lodding on, going back to his a ers. 'The last time #ichard was seen by anybody is "ebruary fifteenth, when he got off the boat in -a les, coming from 'alermo.' 'That's correct,' ,r Greenleaf said. '! steward remembers seeing him.' '3ut no sign of him at any hotel after that, and no communications from him since.' ,cCarron looked from ,r Greenleaf to Tom. '-o,' Tom said. ,cCarron looked at ,arge. '-o,' ,arge said. '!nd when was the last time you saw him, ,iss $herwood%' '&n -ovember twenty(third, when he left for $an #emo,' ,arge said rom tly. '0ou were then in ,ongibello%' ,cCarron asked, ronouncing the town's name with a hard 'g', as if he had no knowledge of .talian.
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'0es,' ,arge said. '. *ust missed seeing him in #ome in "ebruary, but the last time . saw him was in ,ongibello.' Good old ,arge+ Tom felt almost affectionate towards her(( underneath everything. He had begun to feel affectionate this morning, even though she had irritated him. 'He was trying to avoid everyone in #ome,' Tom ut in. 'That's why, when he first gave me the rings, . thought he was on some tack of getting away from everyone he had known, living in another city, and *ust vanishing for a while.' ')hy, do you think%' Tom elaborated, mentioning the murder of his friend "reddie ,iles, and its effect on 2ickie. '2o you think #ichard knew who killed "reddie ,iles%' '-o. . certainly don't.' ,cCarron waited for ,arge's o inion. '-o,' ,arge said, shaking her head. 'Think a minute,' ,cCarron said to Tom. '2o you think that might have e1 lained his behaviour% 2o you think he's avoiding answering the olice by hiding out now%' Tom thought for a minute. 'He didn't give me a single clue in that direction.' '2o you think 2ickie was afraid of something%' '. can't imagine of what,' Tom said. ,cCarron asked Tom how close a friend 2ickie had been of "reddie ,iles, whom else he knew who was a friend of both 2ickie and "reddie, if he knew of any debts between them, any girl friends(('&nly ,arge that . know of,' Tom re lied, and ,arge rotested that she wasn't a girl friend of "reddie's, so there couldn't ossibly have been any rivalry over her((and could Tom say that he was 2ickie's best friend in 4uro e% '. wouldn't say that,' Tom answered. '. think ,arge $herwood is. . hardly know any of 2ickie's friends in 4uro e.' ,cCarron studied Tom's face again. ')hat's your o inion about these forgeries%' '!re they forgeries% . didn't think anybody was sure.' '. don't think they are,' ,arge said. '& inion seems to be divided,' ,cCarron said. 'The e1 erts don't think the letter he wrote to the bank in -a les is a forgery, which can only mean that if there is a forgery somewhere, he's covering u for someone. !ssuming there is a forgery, do you have any idea who he
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might be trying to cover u for%' Tom hesitated a moment, and ,arge said, ';nowing him, . can't imagine him covering u for anyone. )hy should he%' ,cCarron was staring at Tom, but whether he was debating his honesty or mulling over all they had said to him, Tom couldn't tell. ,cCarron looked like a ty ical !merican automobile salesman, or any other kind of salesman, Tom thought (cheerful, resentable, average in intellect, able to talk baseball with a man or ay a stu id com liment to a woman. Tom didn't think too much of him, but, on the other hand, it was not wise to underestimate one's o onent. ,cCarron's small, soft mouth o ened as Tom watched him, and he said, ')ould you mind coming downstairs with me for a few minutes, ,r #i ley, if you've still got a few minutes%' 'Certainly,' Tom said, standing u . ')e won't be long,' ,cCarron said to ,r Greenleaf and ,arge. Tom looked back from the door, because ,r Greenleaf had gotten u and was starting to say something, though Tom didn't listen. Tom was suddenly aware that it was raining, that thin, grey sheets of rain were sla ing against the window( anes. .t was like a last glim se, blurred and hasty((,arge's figure looking small and huddled across the big room, ,r Greenleaf doddering forward like an old man, rotesting. 3ut the comfortable room was the thing, and the view across the canal to where his house stood((invisible now because of the rain(( which he might never see again. ,r Greenleaf was asking, '!re you((you are coming back in a few minutes%' '&h, yes,' ,cCarron answered with the im ersonal firmness of an e1ecutioner. They walked towards the elevator. )as this the way they did it% Tom wondered. ! quiet word in the lobby. He would be handed over to the .talian olice, and then ,cCarron would return to the room *ust as he had romised. ,cCarron had brought a cou le of the a ers from his briefcase with him. Tom stared at an ornamental vertical moulding beside the floor number anel in the elevator8 an egg( sha ed design framed by four raised dots, egg(sha e, dots, all the way down. Think of some sensible, ordinary remark to make about ,r Greenleaf, for instance, Tom said to himself. He ground his teeth. .f he only wouldn't start sweating now. He hadn't started yet, but maybe it would break out all over his face when they reached the lobby.
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,cCarron was hardly as tall as his shoulder. Tom turned to him *ust as the elevator sto ed, and said grimly, baring his teeth in a smile, '.s this your first tri to 6enice%' '0es,' said ,cCarron. He was crossing the lobby. '$hall we go in here%' He indicated the coffee bar. His tone was olite. '!ll right,' Tom said agreeably. The bar was not crowded, but there was not a single table that would be out of earshot of some other table. )ould ,cCarron accuse him in a lace like this, quietly laying down fact after fact on the table% He took the chair that ,cCarron ulled out for him. ,cCarron sat with his back to the wall. ! waiter came u . '$ignori%' 'Coffee,' ,cCarron said. 'Ca uccino,' Tom said. ')ould you like ca uccino or an es resso%' ')hich is the one with milk% Ca uccino%' '0es.' '.'ll have that.' Tom gave the order. ,cCarron looked at him. His small mouth smiled on one side. Tom imagined three or four different beginnings8 '0ou killed #ichard, didn't you% The rings are *ust too much, aren't they%' &r 'Tell me about the $an #emo boat, ,r #i ley, in detail.' &r sim ly, leading u quietly, ')here were you on "ebruary fifteenth, when #ichard landed in... -a les% !ll right, but where were you living then% )here were you living in 5anuary, for instance%... Can you rove it%' ,cCarron was saying nothing at all, only looking down at his lum hands now, and smiling faintly. !s if it had been so absurdly sim le for him to unravel, Tom thought, that he could hardly force himself to ut it into words. !t a table ne1t to them four .talian men were babbling away like a madhouse, screeching with wild laughter. Tom wanted to edge away from them. He sat motionless. Tom braced himself until his body felt like iron, until sheer tension created defiance. He heard himself asking, in an incredibly calm voice, '2id you have time to s eak to Tenente #overini when you came through #ome%' and at the same time he asked it, he realised that he had even an ob*ective in the question8 to find out if ,cCarron had heard about the $an #emo boat. '-o, . didn't,' ,cCarron said. 'There was a message for me that ,r
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Greenleaf would be in #ome today, but .'d landed in #ome so early, . thought .'d fly over and catch him((and also talk to you.' ,cCarron looked down at his a ers. ')hat kind of a man is #ichard% How would you describe him as far as his ersonality goes%' )as ,cCarron going to lead u to it like this% 'ick out more little clues from the words he chose to describe him% &r did he only want the ob*ective o inion that he couldn't get from 2ickie's arents% 'He wanted to be a ainter,' Tom began, 'but he knew he'd never be a very good ainter. He tried to act as if he didn't care, and as if he were erfectly ha y and leading e1actly the kind of life he wanted to lead over here in 4uro e.' Tom moistened his li s. '3ut . think the life was beginning to get him down. His father disa roved, as you robably know. !nd 2ickie had got himself into an awkward s ot with ,arge.' 'How do you mean%' ',arge was in love with him, and he wasn't with her, and at the same time he was seeing her so much in ,ongibello, she ke t on ho ing (' Tom began to feel on safer ground, but he retended to have difficulty in e1 ressing himself. 'He never actually discussed it with me. He always s oke very highly of ,arge. He was very fond of her, but it was obvious to everybody((,arge too((that he never would marry her. 3ut ,arge never quite gave u . . think that's the main reason 2ickie left ,ongibello.' ,cCarron listened atiently and sym athetically, Tom thought. ')hat do you mean never gave u % )hat did she do%' Tom waited until the waiter had set down the two frothy cu s of ca uccino and stuck the tab between them under the sugar bowl. '$he ke t writing to him, wanting to see him, and at the same time being very tactful, .'m sure, about not intruding on him when he wanted to be by himself. He told me all this in #ome when . saw him. He said, after the ,iles murder, that he certainly wasn't in the mood to see ,arge, and he was afraid that she'd come u to #ome from ,ongibello when she heard of all the trouble he was in.' ')hy do you think he was nervous after the ,iles murder%' ,cCarron took a si of the coffee, winced from the heat or the bitterness, and stirred it with the s oon. Tom e1 lained. They'd been quite good friends, and "reddie had been killed *ust a few minutes after leaving his house. '2o you think #ichard might have killed "reddie%' ,cCarron asked
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quietly. '-o, . don't.' ')hy%' '3ecause there was no reason for him to kill him((at least no reason that . ha en to know of.' ''eo le usually say, because so(and(so wasn't the ty e to kill anybody,' ,cCarron said. '2o you think #ichard was the ty e who could have killed anyone%' Tom hesitated, seeking earnestly for the truth. '. never thought of it. . don't know what kind of eo le are a t to kill somebody. .'ve seen him angry (' ')hen%' Tom described the two days in #ome, when 2ickie, he said, had been angry and frustrated because of the olice questioning, and had actually moved out of his a artment to avoid hone calls from friends and strangers. Tom tied this in with a growing frustration in 2ickie, because he had not been rogressing as he had wanted to in his ainting. He de icted 2ickie as a stubborn, roud young man, in awe of his father and therefore determined to defy his father's wishes, a rather erratic fellow who was generous to strangers as well as to his friends, but who was sub*ect to changes of mood((from sociability to sullen withdrawal. He summed it u by saying that 2ickie was a very ordinary young man who liked to think he was e1traordinary. '.f he killed himself,' Tom concluded, '. think it was because he realised certain failures in himself((inadequacies. .t's much easier for me to imagine him a suicide than a murderer.' '3ut .'m not so sure that he didn't kill "reddie ,iles. !re you%' ,cCarron was erfectly sincere. Tom was sure of that. ,cCarron was even e1 ecting him to defend 2ickie now, because they had been friends. Tom felt some of his terror leaving him, but only some of it, like something melting very slowly inside him. '.'m not sure,' Tom said, 'but . *ust don't believe that he did.' '.'m not sure either. 3ut it would e1 lain a lot, wouldn't it%' '0es,' Tom said. '4verything.' ')ell, this is only the first day of work,' ,cCarron said with an o timistic smile. '. haven't even looked over the re ort in #ome. .'ll robably want to talk to you again after .'ve been to #ome.' Tom stared at him. .t seemed to be over. '2o you s eak .talian%' '-o, not very well, but . can read it. . do better in "rench, but .'ll
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get along,' ,cCarron said, as if it were not a matter of much im ortance. .t was very im ortant, Tom thought. He couldn't imagine ,cCarron e1tracting everything that #overini knew about the Greenleaf case solely through an inter reter. -either would ,cCarron be able to get around and chat with eo le like 2ickie, Greenleaf's landlady in #ome. .t was most im ortant. '. talked with #overini here in 6enice a few weeks ago,' Tom said. 'Give him my regards.' '.'ll do that.' ,cCarron finished his coffee. ';nowing 2ickie, what laces do you think he would be likely to go if he wanted to hide out%' Tom squirmed back a little on his cbair. This was getting down to the bottom of the barrel, he thought. ')ell, . know he likes .taly best. . wouldn't bet on "rance. He also likes Greece. He talked about going to ,a*orca at some time. !ll of $ ain is a ossibility, . su ose.' '. see,' ,cCarron said, sighing. '!re you going back to #ome today%' ,cCarron raised his eyebrows. '. imagine so, if . can catch a few hours' slee here. . haven't been to bed in two days.' He held u very well, Tom thought. '. think ,r Greenleaf was wondering about the trains. There are two this morning and robably some more in the afternoon. He was lanning to leave today.' ')e can leave today.' ,cCarron reached for the check. 'Thanks very much for your hel , ,r #i ley. . have your address and hone number, in case . have to see you again.' They stood u . ',ind if . go u and say good(bye to ,arge and ,r Greenleaf%' ,cCarron didn't mind. They rode u in the elevator again. Tom had to check himself from whistling. 'a a non vuole was going around in his head. Tom looked closely at ,arge as they went in, looking for signs of enmity. ,arge only looked a little tragic, he thought. !s if she had recently been made a widow. '.'d like to ask you a few questions alone, too, ,iss $herwood,' ,cCarron said. '.f you don't mind,' he said to ,r Greenleaf. 'Certainly not. . was *ust going down to the lobby to buy some news a ers,' ,r Greenleaf said. ,cCarron was carrying on. Tom said good(bye to ,arge and to ,r Greenleaf, in case they were going to #ome today and he did not see them again. He said to ,cCarron, '.'d be very glad to come to
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#ome at any time, if . can be of any hel . . e1 ect to be here until the end of ,ay, anyway.' ')e'll have something before then,' ,cCarron said with his confident .rish smile. Tom went down to the lobby with ,r Greenleaf. 'He asked me the same questions all over again,' Tom told ,r Greenleaf, 'and also my o inion of #ichard's character.' ')ell, what is your o inion%' ,r Greenleaf asked in a ho eless tone. )hether he was a suicide or had run away to hide himself would be conduct equally re rehensible in ,r Greenleaf's eyes, Tom knew. '. told him what . think is the truth,' Tom said, 'that he's ca able of running away and also ca able of committing suicide.' ,r Greenleaf made no comment, only atted Tom's arm. 'Good( bye, Tom.' 'Good(bye,' Tom said. '7et me hear from you.' 4verything was all right between him and ,r Greenleaf, Tom thought. !nd everything would be all right with ,arge, too. $he had swallowed the suicide e1 lanation, and that was the direction her mind would run in from now on, he knew. Tom s ent the afternoon at home, e1 ecting a tele hone call, one tele hone call at least from ,cCarron, even if it was not about anything im ortant, but none came. There was only a call from Titi, the resident countess, inviting him for cocktails that afternoon. Tom acce ted. )hy should he e1 ect any trouble from ,arge, he thought. $he never had given him any. The suicide was an idGHe fi1e, and she would arrange everything in her dull imagination to fit it.
9E ,cCarron called Tom the ne1t day from #ome, wanting the names of everyone 2ickie had known in ,ongibello. That was a arently all that ,cCarron wanted to know, because he took a leisurely time getting
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them all, and checking them off against the list that ,arge had given him. ,ost of the names ,arge had already given him, but Tom went through them all, with their difficult addresses((Giorgio, of course, 'ietro the boatkee er, "austo's !unt ,aria whose last name he didn't know though he told ,cCarron in a com licated way how to get to her house, !ldo the grocer, the Cecchis, and even old $tevenson, the recluse ainter who lived *ust outside the village and whom Tom had never even met. .t took Tom several minutes to list them all, and it would take ,cCarron several days to check on them, robably. He mentioned everybody but $igner 'ucci, who had handled the sale of 2ickie's house and boat, and who would undoubtedly tell ,cCarron, if he hadn't learned it through ,arge, that Tom #i ley had come to ,ongibello to arrange 2ickie's affairs. Tom did not think it very serious, one way or the other, if ,cCarron did know that he had taken care of 2ickie's affairs. !nd as to eo le like !ldo and $tevenson, ,cCarron was welcome to all he could get out of them. '!nyone in -a les%' ,cCarron asked. '-ot that . know of.' '#ome%' Tm sorry, . never saw him with any friends in #ome.' '-ever met this ainter((uh((2i ,assimo%' '-o. . saw him once,' Tom said, 'but . never met him.' ')hat does he look like%' ')ell, it was *ust on a street corner. . left 2ickie as he was going to meet him, so . wasn't very close to him. He looked about five feet nine, about fifty, greyish(black hair((that's about all . remember. He looked rather solidly built. He was wearing a light(grey suit, . remember.' 'Hm(m((okay,' ,cCarron said absently, as if he were writing all that down. ')ell, . guess that's about all. Thanks very much, ,r #i ley.' '0ou're very welcome. Good luck.' Then Tom waited quietly in his house for several days, *ust as anybody would do, if the search for a missing friend had reached its intensest oint. He declined three or four invitations to arties. The news a ers had renewed their interest in 2ickie's disa earance, ins ired by the resence in .taly of an !merican rivate detective who had been hired by 2ickie's father. )hen some hotogra hers from 4uro eo and &ggi came to take ictures of him and his house, he told them firmly to leave, and actually took one insistent young man by the elbow and ro elled him across the living(room towards the door. 3ut
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nothing of any im ortance ha ened for five days((no tele hone calls, no letters, even from Tenente #ovcrini. Tom imagined the worst sometimes, es ecially at dusk when he felt more de ressed than at any other time of day. He imagined #overini and ,cCarron getting together and develo ing the theory that 2ickie could have disa eared in -ovember, imagined ,cCarron checking on the time he had bought his car, imagined him icking u a scent when he found out that 2ickie had not come back after the $an #emo tri and that Tom #i ley had come down to arrange for the dis osal of 2ickie's things. He measured and remeasured ,r Greenleaf's tired, indifferent good(bye that last morning in 6enice, inter reted it as unfriendly, and imagined ,r Greenleaf flying into a rage in #ome when no results came of all the efforts to find 2ickie, and suddenly demanding a thorough investigation of Tom #i ley, that scoundrel he had sent over with his own money to try to get his son home. 3ut each morning Tom was o timistic again. &n the good side was the fact that ,arge unquestioningly believed that 2ickie had s ent those months sulking in #ome, and she would have ke t all his letters and she would robably bring them all out to show to ,cCarron. 41cellent letters they were, too. Tom was glad he had s ent so much thought on them. ,arge was an asset rather than a liability. .t was really a very good thing that he had ut down his shoe that night that she had found the rings. 4very morning he watched the sun, from his bedroom window, rising through the winter mists, struggling u ward over the eaceful( looking city, breaking through finally to give a cou le of hours of actual sunshine before noon, and the quiet beginning of each day was like a romise of eace in the future. The days were growing warmer. There was more light, and less rain. $ ring was almost here, and one of these mornings, one morning finer than these, he would leave the house and board a shi for Greece. &n the evening of the si1th day after ,r Greenleaf and ,cCarron had left, Tom called him in #ome. ,r Greenleaf had nothing new to re ort, but Tom had not e1 ected anything. ,arge had gone home. !s long as ,r Greenleaf was in .taly, Tom thought, the a ers would carry something about the case every day. 3ut the news a ers were running out of sensational things to say about the Greenleaf case. '!nd how is your wife%' Tom asked.
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'"air. . think the strain is telling on her, however. . s oke to her again last night.' Tm sorry,' Tom said. He ought to write her a nice letter, he thought, *ust a friendly word while ,r Greenleaf was away and she was by herself. He wished he had thought of it before. ,r Greenleaf said he would be leaving at the end of the week, via 'aris, where the "rench olice were also carrying on the search. ,cCarron was going with him, and if nothing ha ened in 'aris they were both going home. '.t's obvious to me or to anybody,' ,r Greenleaf said, 'that he's either dead or deliberately hiding. There's not a corner of the world where the search for him hasn't been ublicised. $hort of #ussia, maybe. ,y God, he never showed any liking for that lace, did he%' '#ussia% -o, not that . know of.' ! arently ,r Greenleaf's attitude was that 2ickie was either dead or to hell with him. 2uring that tele hone call, the to(hell(with( him attitude seemed to be u ermost. Tom went over to 'eter $mith(;ingsley's house that same evening. 'eter had a cou le of 4nglish news a ers that his friends had sent him, one with a icture of Tom e*ecting the &ggi hotogra her from his house. Tom had seen it in the .talian news a ers too. 'ictures of him on the streets of 6enice and ictures of his house had also reached !merica. 3ob and Cleo both had airmailed him hotogra hs and write(u s from -ew 0ork tabloids. They thought it was all terribly e1citing. '.'m good and sick of it,' Tom said. '.'m only hanging around here to be olite and to hel if . can. .f any more re orters try to crash my house, they're going to get it with a shotgun as soon as they walk in the door.' He really was irritated and disgusted, and it sounded in his voice. '. quite understand,' 'eter said. .'m going home at the end of ,ay, you know. .f you'd like to come along and stay at my lace in .reland, you're more than welcome. .t's deadly quiet there, . can assure you.F Tom glanced at him. 'eter had told him about his old .rish castle and had shown him ictures of it. $ome quality of his relationshi with 2ickie flashed across his mind like the memory of a nightmare, like a ale and evil ghost. .t was because the same thing could ha en with 'eter, he thought, 'eter the u right, unsus ecting, naive, generous good fellow((e1ce t that he didn't look enough like 'eter. 3ut one
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evening, for 'eter's amusement, he had ut on an 4nglish accent and had imitated 'eter's mannerisms and his ways of *erking his head to one side as he talked, and 'eter had thought it hilariously funny. He shouldn't have done that, Tom thought now. .t made Tom bitterly ashamed, that evening and the fact that he had thought even for an instant that the same thing that had ha ened with 2ickie could ha en with 'eter. 'Thanks,' Tom said. '.'d better stay by myself for a while longer. . miss my friend 2ickie, you know. . miss him terribly.' He was suddenly near tears. He could remember 2ickie's smiles that first day they began to get along, when he had confessed to 2ickie that his father had sent him. He remembered their cra/y first tri to #ome. He remembered with affection even that half(hour in the Carlton 3ar in Cannes, when 2ickie had been so bored and silent, but there had been a reason why 2ickie had been bored, after all8 he had dragged 2ickie there, and 2ickie didn't care for the CGYte d'!/ur. .f he'd only gotten his sightseeing done all by himself, Tom thought, if he only hadn't been in such a hurry and so greedy, if he only hadn't mis*udged the relationshi between 2ickie and ,arge so stu idly, or had sim ly waited for them to se arate of their own volition, then none of this would have ha ened, and he could have lived with 2ickie for the rest of his life, travelled and lived and en*oyed living for the rest of his life. .f he only hadn't ut on 2ickie's clothes that day ( '. understand, Tommie boy, . really do,' 'eter said, atting his shoulder. Tom looked u at him through distorting tears. He was imagining travelling with 2ickie on some liner back to !merica for Christmas holidays, imagining being on as good terms with 2ickie's arents as if he and 2ickie had been brothers. 'Thanks,' Tom said. .t came out a childlike 'blub'. '.'d really think something was the matter with you if you didn't break down like this,' 'eter said sym athetically.
9O
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6enice C 5une, 1O(( 2ear ,r Greenleaf8 )hile acking a suitcase today, . came across an envelo e that #ichard gave me in #ome, and which for some unaccountable reason . had forgotten until now. &n the envelo e was written '-ot to be o ened until 5une' and, as it ha ens, it is 5une. The envelo e contained #ichard's will, and he leaves his income and ossessions to me. . am as astounded by this as you robably are, yet from the wording of the will Ait is ty ewrittenB he seems to have been in ossession of his senses. . am only bitterly sorry . did not remember having the envelo e, because it would have roven much earlier that 2ickie intended to take his own life. . ut it into a suitcase ocket, and then . forgot it. He gave it to me on the last occasion . saw him, in #ome, when he was so de ressed. &n second thought, . am enclosing a hotostat co y of the will so that you may see it for yourself. This is the first will . have ever seen in my life, and . am absolutely unfamiliar with the usual rocedure. )hat should . do% 'lease give my kindest regards to ,rs Greenleaf and realise that . sym athise dee ly with you both, and regret the necessity of writing this letter. 'lease let me hear from you as soon as ossible. ,y ne1t address will be8 cTo !merican 41 ress !thens, Greece ,ost sincerely yours, Tom #i ley .n a way it was asking for trouble, Tom thought. .t might start a new investigation of the signatures, on the will and also the remittances, one of the relentless investigations that insurance com anies and robably trust com anies also launched when it was a matter of money out of their own ockets. 3ut that was the mood he was in. He had bought his ticket for Greece in the middle of ,ay, and the days had grown finer and finer, making him more and more restless. He had taken his car out of the "iat garage in 6enice and had driven over the 3renner to $al/burg and ,unich, down to Trieste and over to 3ol/ano, and the weather had held everywhere, e1ce t for the mildest, most s ring(like shower in ,unich when he had been walking in the 4nglischer Garten, and he had not even tried to get under cover
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from it but had sim ly ke t on walking, thrilled as a child at the thought that this was the first German rain that had ever fallen on him. He had only two thousand dollars in his own name, transferred from 2ickie's bank account and saved out of 2ickie's income, because he hadn't dared to withdraw any more in so short a time as three months. The very chanciness of trying for all of 2ickie's money, the eril of it, was irresistible to him. He was so bored after the dreary, eventless weeks in 6enice, when each day that went by had seemed to confirm his ersonal safety and to em hasise the dullness of his e1istence. #overini had sto ed writing to him. !lvin ,cCarron had gone back to !merica Aafter nothing more than another inconsequential tele hone call to him from #omeB, and Tom su osed that he and ,r Greenleaf had concluded that 2ickie was either dead or hiding of his own will, and that further search was useless. The news a ers had sto ed rinting anything about 2ickie for want of anything to rint. Tom had a feeling of em tiness and abeyance that had driven him nearly mad until he made the tri to ,unich in his car. )hen he came back to 6enice to ack for Greece and to close his house, the sensation had been worse8 he was about to go to Greece, to those ancient heroic islands, as little Tom #i ley, shy and meek, with a dwindling two( thousand(odd in his bank, so that he would ractically have to think twice before he bought himself even a book on Greek art. .t was intolerable. He had decided in 6enice to make his voyage to Greece an heroic one. He would see the islands, swimming for the first time into his view, as a living, breathing, courageous individual((not as a cringing little nobody from 3oston. .f he sailed right into the arms of the olice in 'iraeus, he would at least have known the days *ust before, standing in the wind at the row of a shi , crossing the wine(dark sea like 5ason or <lysses returning. $o he had written the letter to ,r Greenleaf and mailed it three days before he was to sail from 6enice. ,r Greenleaf would robably not get the letter for four or five days, so there would be no time for ,r Greenleaf to hold him in 6enice with a telegram and make him miss his shi . 3esides, it looked better from every oint of view to be casual about the thing, not to be reachable for another week or so until he got to Greece, as if he were so unconcerned as to whether he got the money or not, he had not let the fact of the will ost one even a little tri he had lanned to make.
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Two days before his sailing, he went to tea at the house of Titi della 7atta(Cacciaguerra, the countess he had met the day he had started looking for a house in 6enice. The maid showed him into the living room, and Titi greeted him with the hrase he had not heard for many weeks8 '!h, ciao, Tomaso+ Have you seen the afternoon a er% They have found 2ickie's suitcases+ !nd his aintings+ #ight here in the !merican 41 ress in 6enice+' Her gold earrings trembled with her e1citement. ')hat%' Tom hadn't seen the a ers. He had been too busy acking that afternoon. '#ead it+ Here+ !ll his clothes de osited only in "ebruary+ They were sent from -a les. 'erha s he is here in 6enice+' Tom was reading it. The cord around the canvases had come undone, the a er said, and in wra ing them again a clerk had discovered the signature of #. Greenleaf on the aintings. Tom's hands began to shake so that he had to gri the sides of the a er to hold it steady. The a er said that the olice were now e1amining everything carefully for finger rints. ''erha s he is alive+' Titi shouted. '. don't think((. don't see why this roves he is alive. He could have been murdered or killed himself after he sent the suitcases. The fact that it's under another name(("anshaw (' He had the feeling the countess, who was sitting rigidly on the sofa staring at him, was startled by his nervousness, so he ulled himself together abru tly, summoned all his courage and said, '0ou see% They're looking through everything for finger rints. They wouldn't be doing that if they were sure 2ickie had sent the suitcases himself. )hy should he de osit them under "anshaw, if he e1 ected to claim them against himself% His ass ort's even here. He acked his ass ort.' ''erha s he is hiding himself under the name of "anshaw+ &h, caro mio, you need some tea+' Titi stood u . 'Giustinal .l te, er iacere, subitissimo+' Tom sank down weakly on the sofa, still holding the news a er in front of him. )hat about the knot on 2ickie's body% )ouldn't it be *ust his luck to have that come undone now% '!h, carissimo, you are so essimistic,' Titi said, atting his knee. 'This is good news+ $u ose all the finger rints are his% )ouldn't you be ha y then% $u ose tomorrow, when you are walking in some little street of 6enice, you will come face to face with 2ickie Greenleaf,
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alias $igner "anshaw+' $he let out her shrill, leasant laugh that was as natural to her as breathing. '.t says here that the suitcases contained everything, shaving kit, toothbrush, shoes, overcoat, com lete equi ment,' Tom said, hiding his terror in gloom. 'He couldn't be alive and leave all that. The murderer must have stri ed his body and de osited his clothes there because it was the easiest way of getting rid of them.' This gave even Titi ause. Then she said, ')ill you not be so downhearted until you know what the finger rints are% 0ou are su osed to be off on a leasure tri tomorrow. 4cco il te+' The day after tomorrow, Tom thought. 'lenty of time for #overini to get his finger rints and com are them with those on the canvases and in the suitcases. He tried to remember any flat surfaces on the canvas frames and on things in the suitcases from which finger rints could be taken. There was not much, e1ce t the articles in the shaving kit, but they could find enough, in fragments and smears, to assemble ten erfect rints if they tried. His only reason for o timism was that they didn't have his finger rints yet, and that they might not ask for them because he was not yet under sus icion. 3ut if they already had 2ickie's finger rints from somewhere% )ouldn't ,r Greenleaf send 2ickie's finger rints from !merica the very first thing, by way of checking% There could be any number of laces they could find 2ickie's finger rints8 on certain ossessions of his in !merica, in the house in ,ongibello (. 'Tomaso+ Take your tea+' Titi said, with another gentle ress of his knee. 'Thank you.' '0ou will see. !t least this is a ste toward the truth, what really ha ened. -ow let us talk about something else, if it makes you so unha y+ )here do you go from !thens%' He tried to turn his thoughts to Greece. "or him, Greece was gilded, with the gold of warriors' armour and with its own famous sunlight. He saw stone statues with calm, strong faces, like the women on the orch of the 4rechtheum. He didn't want to go to Greece with the threat of the finger rints in 6enice hanging over him. .t would debase him. He would feel as low as the lowest rat that scurried in the gutters of !thens, lower than the dirtiest beggar who would accost him in the streets of $alonika. Tom ut his face in his hands and we t. Greece was finished, e1 loded like a golden balloon.
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Titi ut her firm, lum arm around him. 'Tomaso, cheer u + )ait until you have reason to feel so downcast+' '. can't see why you don't see that this is a bad sign+' Tom said des erately. '. really don't+'
C? The worst sign of all was that #overini, whose messages had been so friendly and e1 licit u to now, sent him nothing at all in regard to the suitcases and canvases having been found in 6enice. Tom s ent a slee less night and then a day, of acing his house while he tried to finish the endless little chores ertaining to his de arture, aying !nna and <go, aying various tradesmen, Tom e1 ected the olice to come knocking on his door at any hour of the day or night. The contrast between his tranquil self(confidence or five days ago and his resent a rehension almost tore him a art. He could neither slee nor eat nor sit still. The irony of !nna's and <go's commiseration with him, and also of the tele hone calls from his friends, asking him if he had any ideas as to what might have ha ened in view of the finding of the suitcases, seemed more than he could bear. .ronic, too, that he could let them know that he was u set, essimistic, des erate even, and they thought nothing of it. They thought it was erfectly normal, because 2ickie after all might have been murdered8 everybody considered it very significant that all 2ickie's ossessions had been in the suitcases in 6enice, down to his shaving kit and comb. Then there was the matter of the will. ,r Greenleaf would get it day after tomorrow. 3y that time they might know that the finger rints were not 2ickie's. 3y that time they might have interce ted the Hellenes, and taken his own finger rints. .f they discovered that the will was a forgery, too, they would have no mercy on him. 3oth murders would come out, as naturally as !3C. 3y the time he boarded the Hellenes Tom felt like a walking ghost. He was slee less, foodless, full of es ressos, carried along only by his twitching nerves. He wanted to ask if there was a radio, but he was
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ositive there was a radio. .t was a good(si/ed tri le(deck shi with forty(eight assengers. He colla sed about five minutes after the stewards had brought his luggage into his cabin. He remembered lying face down on his bunk with one arm twisted under him, and being too tired to change his osition, and when he awakened the shi was moving, not only moving but rolling gently with a leasant rhythm that suggested a tremendous reserve of ower and a romise of unending, unobstructable forward movement that would swee aside anything in its way. He felt better e1ce t that the arm he had been lying on hung lim ly at his side like a dead member, and flo ed against him when he walked through the corridor so that he had to gri it with the other hand to hold it in lace. .t was a quarter of ten by his watch, and utterly dark outside. There was some kind of land on his e1treme left, robably art of 0ugoslavia, five or si1 little dim white lights, and otherwise nothing but black sea and black sky, so black that there was no trace of an hori/on and they might have been sailing against a black screen, e1ce t that he felt no resistance to the steadily loughing shi , and the wind blew freely on his forehead as if out of infinite s ace. There was no one around him on the deck. They were all below, eating their late dinner, he su osed. He was glad to be alone. His arm was coming back to life. He gri ed the row where it se arated in a narrow 6 and took a dee breath. ! defiant courage rose in him. )hat if the radioman were receiving at this very minute a message to arrest Tom #i ley% He would stand u *ust as bravely as he was standing now. &r he might hurl himself over the shi 's gunwale((which for him would be the su reme act of courage as well as esca e. )ell, what if% 4ven from where he stood, he could hear the faint bee ( bee (bee from the radio room at the to of the su erstructure. He was not afraid. This was it. This was the way he had ho ed he would feel, sailing to Greece. To look out at the black water all around him and not be afraid was almost as good as seeing the islands of Greece coming into view. .n the soft 5une darkness ahead of him he could construct in imagination the little islands, the hills of !thens dotted with buildings, and the !cro olis. There was an elderly 4nglishwoman on board the shi , travelling with her daughter who herself was forty, unmarried and so wildly nervous she could not even en*oy the sun for fifteen minutes in her deck(chair without lea ing u and announcing in a loud voice that
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she was 'off for a walk'. Her mother, by contrast, was e1tremely calm and slow, she had some kind of aralysis in her right leg, which was shorter than the other so that she had to wear a thick heel on her right shoe and could not walk e1ce t with a cane((the kind of erson who would have driven Tom insane in -ew 0ork with her slowness and her unvarying graciousness of manner, but now Tom was ins ired to s end time with her in the deck(chair, talking to her and listening to her talk about her life in 4ngland and about Greece, when she had last seen Greece in 1O9@. He took her for a slow walk around the deck, she leaning on his arm and a ologising constantly for the trouble she was giving him, but obviously she loved the attention. !nd the daughter was obviously delighted that someone was taking her mother off her hands. ,aybe ,rs Cartwright had been a hellcat in her youth, Tom thought, maybe she was res onsible for every one of her daughter's neuroses, maybe she had clutched her daughter so closely to her that it had been im ossible for the daughter to lead a normal life and marry, and maybe she deserved to be kicked overboard instead of walking around the deck and listened to for hours while she talked, but what did it matter% 2id the world always mete out *ust deserts% Had the world meted his out to him% He considered that he had been lucky beyond reason in esca ing detection for two murders, lucky from the time he had assumed 2ickie's identity until now. .n the first art of his life fate had been grossly unfair, he thought, but the eriod with 2ickie and afterwards had more than com ensated for it. 3ut something was going to ha en now in Greece, he felt, and it couldn't be good. His luck had held *ust too long. 3ut su osing they got him on the finger rints, and on the will, and they gave him the electric chair(( could that death in the electric chair equal in ain, or could death itself, at twenty(five, be so tragic, that he could not say that the months from -ovember until now had not been worth it% Certainly not. The only thing he regretted was that he had not seen all the world yet. He wanted to see !ustralia. !nd .ndia. He wanted to see 5a an. Then there was $outh !merica. ,erely to look at the art of those countries would be a leasant, rewarding life's work, he thought. He had learned a lot about ainting, even in trying to co y 2ickie's mediocre aintings. !t the art galleries in 'aris and #ome he had discovered an interest in aintings that he had never realised before, or erha s that had not been in him before. He did not want to be a
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ainter himself, but if he had the money, he thought, his greatest leasure would be to collect aintings that he liked, and to hel young ainters with talent who needed money. His mind went off on such tangents as he walked with ,rs Cartwright around the deck, or listened to her monologues that were not always interesting. ,rs Cartwright thought him charming. $he told him several times, s eaking with fervour, how much he had contributed to her en*oyment of the voyage, and they made lans about meeting at a certain hotel in Crete on the second of 5uly, Crete being the only lace their itineraries crossed. ,rs Cartwright was travelling by bus on a s ecial tour. Tom acquiesced to all her suggestions, though he never e1 ected to see her again once they got off the shi . He imagined himself sei/ed at once and taken on board another shi , or erha s a lane, back to .taly. -o radio messages had come about him((that he knew of((but would they necessarily inform him if any had come% The shi 's a er, a little one( age mimeogra hed sheet that a eared every evening at each lace on the dinner tables, was entirely concerned with international olitical news, and would not have contained anything about the Greenleaf case even if something im ortant had ha ened. 2uring the brief voyage Tom lived in a eculiar atmos here of doom and of heroic, unselfish courage. He imagined strange things8 ,rs Cartwright's daughter falling overboard and he *um ing after her and saving her. &r fighting through the waters of a ru tured bulkhead to close the breach with his own body. He felt ossessed of a reternatural strength and fearlessness. )hen the boat a roached the mainland of Greece Tom was standing at the rail with ,rs Cartwright. $he was telling him how the ort of 'iraeus had changed in a earance since she had seen it last, and Tom was not interested at all in the changes. .t e1isted, that was all that mattered to him. .t wasn't a mirage ahead of him, it was a solid hill that he could walk on, with buildings that he could touch (if he got that far. The olice were waiting on the dock. He saw four of them, standing with folded arms, looking u at the shi . Tom hel ed ,rs Cartwright to the very last, boosted her gently over the kerb at the end of the gang lank, and said a smiling good(bye to her and her daughter. He had to wait under the #'s and they under the C's to receive their luggage, and the two Cartwrights were leaving right
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away for !thens on their s ecial bus. )ith ,rs Cartwright's kiss still warm and slightly moist on his cheek, Tom turned and walked slowly towards the olicemen. -o fuss, he thought, he'd *ust tell them himself who he was. There was a big newsstand behind the olicemen, and he thought of buying a a er. 'erha s they would let him. The olicemen stared back at him from over their folded arms as he a roached them. They wore black uniforms with visored ca s. Tom smiled at them faintly. &ne of them touched his ca and ste ed aside. 3ut the others did not close in. -ow Tom was ractically between two of them, right in front of the newsstand, and the olicemen were staring forward again, aying no attention to him at all. Tom looked over the array of a ers in front of him, feeling da/ed and faint. His hand moved automatically to take a familiar a er of #ome. .t was only three days old. He ulled some lire out of his ocket, realised suddenly that he had no Greek money, but the newsdealer acce ted the lire as readily as if he were in .taly, and even gave him back change in lire. '.'ll take these, too,' Tom said in .talian, choosing three more .talian a ers and the 'aris Herald(Tribune. He glanced at the olice officers. They were not looking at him. Then he walked back to the shed on the dock where the shi 's assengers were awaiting their luggage. He heard ,rs Cartwright's cheerful halloo to him as he went by, but he retended not to have heard. <nder the #'s he sto ed and o ened the oldest .talian a er, which was four days old. -& &-4 -!,42 #&34#T $. "!-$H!) "&<-2, 24'&$.T&# &" G#44-74!" 3!GG!G4 said the awkward ca tion on the second age. Tom read the long column below it, but only the fifth aragra h interested him8 The olice ascertained a few days ago that the finger rints on the suitcases and aintings are the same as the finger rints found in Greenleaf's abandoned a artment in #ome. Therefore, it has been assumed that Greenleaf de osited the suitcases and the aintings himself... Tom fumbled o en another age. Here it was again8 ... .n view of the fact that the finger rints on the articles in the suitcases are identical with those in $ignor Greenleaf s a artment in #ome, the olice have concluded that $ignor Greenleaf acked and dis atched the suitcases to 6enice, and there is s eculation that he may have
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committed suicide, erha s in the water in a state of total nudity. !n alternative s eculation is that he e1ists at resent under the alias of #obert $. "anshaw or another alias. $till another ossibility is that he was murdered, after acking or being made to ack his own baggage(( erha s for the e1 ress ur ose of confusing the olice inquiries through finger rints... .n any case, it is futile to search for '#ichard Greenleaf' any longer, because, even if he is alive, he has not his '#ichard Greenleaf' ass ort... Tom felt shaky and lightheaded. The glare of sunlight under the edge of the roof hurt his eyes. !utomatically he followed the orter with his luggage towards the customs counter, and tried to realise, as he stared down at his o en suitcase that the ins ector was hastily e1amining, e1actly what the news meant. .t meant he was not sus ected at all. .t meant that the finger rints really had guaranteed his innocence. .t meant not only that he was not going to *ail, and not going to die, but that he was not sus ected at all. He was free. 41ce t for the will. Tom boarded the bus for !thens. &ne of his table com anions was sitting ne1t to him, but he gave no sign of greeting, and couldn't have answered anything if the man had s oken to him. There would be a letter concerning the will at the !merican 41 ress in !thens, Tom was sure. ,r Greenleaf had had *ust time to re ly. 'erha s he had ut his lawyers on to it right away, and there would be only a olite negative re ly in !thens from a lawyer, and maybe the ne1t message would come from the !merican olice, saying that he was answerable for forgery. ,aybe both messages were awaiting him at the !merican 41 ress. The will could undo it all. Tom looked out of the window at the rimitive, dry landsca e. -othing was registering on him. ,aybe the Greek olice were waiting for him at the !merican 41 ress. ,aybe the four men he had seen had not been olice but some kind of soldiers. The bus sto ed. Tom got out, corralled his luggage, and found a ta1i. ')ould you sto at the !merican 41 ress, lease%' he asked the driver in .talian, but the driver a arently understood '!merican 41 ress' at least, and drove off. Tom remembered when he had said the same words to the ta1i driver in #ome, the day he had been on his way to 'alermo. How sure of himself he'd been that day, *ust after he had given ,arge the sli at the .nghilterra+
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He sat u when he saw the !merican 41 ress sign, and looked around the building for olicemen. 'erha s the olice were inside. .n .talian, he asked the driver to wait, and the driver seemed to understand this too, and touched his ca . There was a s ecious ease about everything, like the moment *ust before something was going to e1 lode. Tom looked around inside the !merican 41 ress lobby. -othing unusual. ,aybe the minute he mentioned his name ( 'Have you any letters for Thomas #i ley%' he asked in a low voice in 4nglish. '#ee ley% $ ell it, if you lease.' He s elt it. $he turned and got some letters from a cubbyhole. -othing was ha ening. 'Three letters,' she said in 4nglish, smiling. &ne from ,r Greenleaf. &ne from Titi in 6enice. &ne from Cleo, forwarded. He o ened the letter from ,r Greenleaf. 2ear Tom, 0our letter of C 5une received yesterday. .t was not so much of a sur rise to my wife and me as you may have imagined. )e were both aware that #ichard was very fond of you, in s ite of the fact he never went out of his way to tell us this in any of his letters. !s you ointed out, this will does, unha ily, seem to indicate that #ichard has taken his own life. .t is a conclusion that we here have at last acce ted((the only other chance being that #ichard has assumed another name and for reasons of his own has chosen to turn his back on his family. ,y wife concurs with me in the o inion that we should carry out #ichard's references and the s irit of them, whatever he may have done with himself. $o you have, insofar as the will is concerned, my ersonal su ort. . have ut your hotostat co y into the hands of my lawyers, who will kee you informed as to their rogress in making over #ichard's trust fund and other ro erties to you. &nce more, thank you for your assistance when . was overseas. 7et us hear from you. )ith best wishes Herbert Greenleaf
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)as it a *oke% 3ut the 3urke(Greenleaf letterT a er in his hand felt authentic (thick and slightly ebbled and the letterhead engraved((and besides, ,r Greenleaf wouldn't *oke like this, not in a million years. Tom walked on to the waiting ta1i. .t was no *oke. .t was his+ 2ickie's money and his freedom. !nd the freedom, like everything else, seemed combined, his and 2ickie's combined. He could have a house in 4uro e, and a house in !merica too, if he chose. The money for the house in ,ongibello was still waiting to be claimed, he thought suddenly, and he su osed he should send that to the Greenleafs, since 2ickie ut it u for sale before he wrote the will. He smiled, thinking of ,rs Cartwright. He must take her a big bo1 of orchids when he met her in Crete, if they had any orchids in Crete. He tried to imagine landing in Crete((the long island, eaked with the dry, *agged li s of craters, the little bustle of e1citement on the ier as his boat moved into the harbour, the small(boy orters, avid for his luggage and his ti s, and he would have lenty to ti them with, lenty for everything and everybody. He saw four motionless figures standing on the imaginary ier, the figures of Cretan olicemen waiting for him, atiently waiting with folded arms. He grew suddenly tense, and his vision vanished. )as he going to see olicemen waiting for him on every ier that he ever a roached% .n !le1andria% .stanbul% 3ombay% #io% -o use thinking about that. He ulled his shoulders back. -o use s oiling his tri worrying about imaginary olicemen. 4ven if there were olicemen on the ier, it wouldn't necessarily mean ( '! donda, a donda%' the ta1i driver was saying, trying to s eak .talian for him. 'To a hotel, lease,' Tom said. '.l meglio albergo. .l meglio, il meglio+'
The 4nd
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The Talented MR Ripley

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The Talented MR Ripley

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Patricia Highsmith

The Talented Mr Ripley

The Talented Mr Ripley Patricia Highsmith

(First published 1955)

The Talented Mr Ripley

The Talented Mr Ripley

The Talented Mr Ripley

The Talented Mr Ripley

The Talented Mr Ripley

The Talented Mr Ripley

The Talented Mr Ripley

The Talented Mr Ripley

The Talented Mr Ripley

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The Talented Mr Ripley

The Talented Mr Ripley