Читать книгу Darker Than Night - John Lutz - Страница 17

Marcy Graham couldn’t figure it out, and she wondered if she should even try.

There was the leather coat she’d tried on at Tambien’s, the one that had prompted the argument between Ron and that salesclerk who was trying so hard to work her; just doing his job, and Ron got all pissy. It was lying draped over the arm of the sofa, not carelessly but as if someone had carefully arranged it there so she’d see it when she came in. A nice surprise.

Marcy put down her purse on a lamp table and went to the coat, touched it, stroked it. The leather was so soft. That really was what had attracted her to it in the first place. She lifted a lapel, then an arm, and could find no sales tag.

She held up the coat at arm’s length and looked it over. There was no clue as to where it had come from. She slipped it on, thinking it felt as good as it had at the shop, and walked to the full-length mirror near the door.

Smiling at her reflection, she turned this way and that, almost all the way around, gazing back over her shoulder as if at a lover she was leaving.

She removed the coat and placed it back on the sofa arm. A gift from Ron? Most likely. In fact, that was the only possible explanation. He felt guilty about smarting off and almost blowing up in Tambien’s, and he wanted to make it up to her. It wouldn’t be unlike him. He had a temper, but he could be sweet.

She stood with her hands on her hips, staring at the coat. Now, how should she react? What would Ron expect when he walked in the door? Should she leave the coat on the sofa? Maybe it was better to hang it in the closet, play dumb, toy with him and make a game of it. The kind they used to play. Or she could lay the coat on the bed and let him find it. That might be interesting. Then she’d show him her appreciation for his unexpected gift, making a gift of herself. The old games.

There was a slight sound in the hall; then the ratcheting of a key in the dead-bolt lock.

The door opened and her options disappeared as Ron stepped into the apartment.

At first he didn’t notice her or the coat as he turned and closed and relocked the door. Then he turned back, saw her, and immediately his gaze shifted to the sofa where the coat lay. He appeared genuinely puzzled, but she knew he could act convincingly if he had to, feigning surprise at seeing the coat.

“Isn’t that—”

“You know it is,” she interrupted, smiling.

“You went back and bought it?” She could see his confusion changing now to anger, and silent alarms went off in her head.

“Of course not. You know I didn’t!”

“How would I know that?”

“Because you bought the coat and put it there on the sofa so I’d find it when I came home.”

He yanked his tie loose violently so it hung crookedly around his neck, reminding her of a hangman’s noose, then jutted out his chin and unfastened his top shirt button. “Now why the hell would I do that?”

Marcy was stunned, searching for words. “I…uh…Well, I don’t know.”

Not because you love me. Your eyes and that throbbing vein in your temple say now isn’t the time to remind you of that.

“You thought it was a gift from me?” He pulled the narrow end through the knot and let the tie drape loosely around his neck. Almost as if he were preparing to remove it and strangle her with it if that was what he decided.

“What else would I think? I came home from work and there was the coat you knew I wanted.”

“And that we didn’t buy.”

“You could’ve changed your mind.”

“The point is, I didn’t change it. So where’d the coat come from?”

“I told you, I assumed it was from you. Who else would have left it there? I was at work all day, and you and I are the only ones who have keys. Except for Lou the super.”

Ron shook his head. He might have been angrier, only he couldn’t quite figure out who was his target. “Lou’s sixty-five years old and couldn’t afford a coat like that. Besides, it’s impossible to get him in here to fix a leaky faucet, much less shower us with gifts. After the chat I had with him, Lou wouldn’t let anybody in here even for a minute without one or both of us being present.”

“Then who?”

He clenched his right hand into a fist, holding it close to his chest. “That asshole salesclerk at Tambien’s—Ira.”

“But how could he? Why would he?”

“He knew you wanted the coat.” Ron went to the coat and lifted it, then wadded it and tossed it in a heap back on the sofa. “There was no note or anything?”

“Nothing. I found it just like you saw it.”

He picked up the coat again and tucked it, still wadded, beneath his arm. “C’mon!”

“Come on where?”

“To Tambien’s.”

“You’re taking it back?”

“No. I never took it from! We’re giving it back to Ira the wiseass salesclerk, along with a warning.”

“We simply can’t give this back, Ron! I can’t. Let’s put this off, think about it some more.”

“There’s no place else the coat could have come from. Nobody else who might have given it to you.”

“How could Ira get in?”

“I don’t know, Marcy,” Ron said impatiently. “I don’t know how magicians guess the right card, either, but they do.”

“But why would he give me a gift? What would he expect to get out of it?”

“Jesus, Marcy, what do you think?”

“We only met once, and you were there.”

“So what? Maybe he’s one of those fucked-up psychos who only have to see a woman once and some kind of weird connection’s made.”

“I guess that’s possible….”

“Goddamned right it is!”

“If it is, I don’t want to go near him again.”

Ron drew a deep breath, then sighed and dragged his forearm across his mouth, as if he’d just taken a long, sloppy drink from a stream.

“All right,” he said. “You stay here. I’m gonna take this thing and return it to Tambien’s. We’re gonna find out about this! And do something about it!”

And he was out the door and gone.

An hour later Ron was back, empty-handed. Marcy watched her husband remove his sport coat and drape it on a hanger in the hall closet. He seemed calmer now. His face wasn’t so flushed, and the blue vein in his temple wasn’t even visible. “Did they take the coat back at Tambien’s?”

“No,” Ron said. “They claimed they didn’t sell it. Said it was sold in at least a dozen shops in and around New York. I told them maybe Ira just walked out with it so he could give it to you. Ira got pissed and I threatened to twist his head off. He just smiled, the little bastard.”

“I think he might be dangerous,” Marcy said. “There’s something creepy about him.”

Ron shrugged. “Whatever he is, I told him if he ever came around here again, I’d cut off his balls.”

Before or after you twist off his head? “What did he say?”

“That Tambien’s wouldn’t take the coat in return unless I had a sales slip. He and that numb-brain manager went into their professional salesclerk mode, polite but underneath it acting like assholes.”

“So what’d you do?” Marcy asked.

“I told them I didn’t want a refund; then I tossed the coat on the floor and walked out the door. You shoulda seen the look on their faces.”

“That’s an eight-hundred-dollar coat, Ron.”

“Not to us, it isn’t. It’s worse than worthless.” He stalked into the kitchen and a few minutes later returned with a glass of water with ice cubes in it. Marcy watched him take a long sip, his head back, the Adam’s apple working in his powerful neck.

“You still think Ira somehow sneaked in here and left the coat?” she asked when finally he lowered the glass.

He’d downed half the water. His head bowed, he stared into the glass and swirled its remaining contents around so the ice cubes rattled. “I don’t know,” he said. “I honestly don’t. But if it was him, he won’t do something like that around here again. He’s been scared away.”

Marcy wasn’t so sure.

For some reason she doubted if Ira had ever been scared away from anything in his life.