Murder by the Book

I said I didn't. I said I hadn't consciously used any happening in real life when I was plotting the novel, but of course it might have been in my subconscious. She said that as far as she remembered it hadn't come out that O'Mara had been betrayed by one of his partners, and it would be interesting to look into it and see if my subconscious had not only copied what had been published but had also, by insight or intuition, divined what had not been published. That was enough for me, more than enough.

I guided the talk, while we were having dinner, to a point where it was appropriate for me to suggest that we drive to my apartment in the Bronx so I could get the manuscript. She gave me a bad moment when she asked, if I lived in the Bronx, why had I given my address as General Delivery, Clinton Station, but I gave her an answer that satisfied her. She said she would go with me to get the manuscript but let me know that she wouldn't go up to my apartment. I was sorry I had met her in so public a place as the Ruby Room, but neither of us had seen anyone we knew and I resolved to go ahead.

I went alone to get my car and picked her up in front of the Churchill and drove to Washington Heights. There, in a side street, it was as simple as it had been with Dykes. I remarked that the windshield was misted on the inside and reached behind me as if for my handkerchief, got a heavy wrench I had placed there when I went for my car, and hit her with it. She didn't even groan. I tried to prop her up but couldn't, and lifted her over into the back onto the floor. On the way to Van Cortlandt Park I stopped several times to take a look at her. Once she seemed to be stirring, and I had to hit her again.

I drove to a secluded road in the park. There was no one in sight, but it was only ten o'clock and there was a

chance that a car might come along at the worst moment, even in February, so I left the park, drove around for two hours, and then returned to the park and the secluded road. The risk was then at a minimum, and anyhow I had to take it. I took her out of the car, put her on the road near the edge, and ran the car over her. Then I drove away fast. When I was miles away I stopped under a light and inspected the car for signs of blood or other evidence, but I had been careful to go slowly when passing over her and I could find nothing.