Death of a Doxy (Crime Line)

Julie, when she came, was black – a plain black tailored dress with half-sleeves and no trim to speak of. I know when things fit, and no wonder she called it her best, the way it fitted. I said so and then took her to the window. "I'm about to give an order," I said. "See that stone wall over there? What time do you get home from work?"

"About half past one. I finish my last turn at one."

"Fine. The park will be empty. So when you get home tonight you turn on the lights and come and stand here to look out at the park, and the man behind the stone wall with his rifle resting on the wall pulls the trigger, and if he's any good at all down you go. Therefore you do not come and stand here and look out. You lower the blind and close the drapes before you leave for work. That's an order."

"It's a damn silly one. Way up here? At that angle? Go get a rifle and try it. You couldn't even hit the window."

"The hell I couldn't. Before I was twelve years old I got many a squirrel with a twenty-two in trees nearly this high. Are you going to obey orders or not?"

She said she would, and we went and sat on the couch and discussed the operation. She wanted to handle it with me in the other room listening, and she had a reason: if I sat in I might say something she wouldn't like but couldn't object to with him there. It got a little warm, and at one point she threatened to bow out and I could see him downstairs, but finally it was agreed that I would be present, seen but not heard unless I thought it was absolutely essential. We were barely on speaking terms when the phone rang and she was informed that Mr. Fleming was below and wanted to come up. I stayed on the couch. I stayed put when the knock sounded and she went and opened the door and he entered. Seeing it and not knowing, you would have thought it was she, not he, who needed watching. She turned to close the door, and he turned to keep her in view, and it wasn't until she had passed him and he turned again that he saw me.

He spoke. He said, "Oh," but didn't know he was saying it. Then he stood and stared. Julie faced him and said, "I believe you have met Mr. Goodwin. I'll take your coat."

His mouth opened, but no words came. He tried again and managed it. "I thought you – this would be private."

She nodded. "I suppose you would rather have it private, but I thought I'd better be careful with a – with you. Have you got the money?"