Chapter 63 boudoir suspicion

The long and terrible day began at eight o'clock.In the distance came the whistle of a paper mill and the chime of church bells. Ernie pushed back his chair, stood up, cleared his throat and said, "I have to go." He said that every day before going to work. I am sitting at the dining table with a cup of coffee in my hand.The newspapers were spread out in front of me, but my eyes fell on my husband. What I just saw in the paper was a resemblance to his features, down to the last detail—except for the moustache, crew cut, and twenty pounds heavier. Ernie leaned over the table and patted four-year-old Steve on the head. "Listen to your mother," he said.

Steve nodded, his mouth full of food and he couldn't speak. Ernie walked around to the other chair, his steps heavy and confident. "Daddy's daughter is a good baby today," he said affectionately. Liz giggled and showed him a spoonful of oatmeal dripping off the spoon as she scooped it up. "Good boy," he gloated, before coming over to the back of my chair.His hand fell heavily on my shoulder, warm and confident. "Your coffee is about to be poured." He looked down at me, a tall, broad-shouldered, muscular man. I looked up and smiled at him. His eyes are amber with blue spots.There is a small scar in the middle of the right eyebrow.

I put my head down, put the coffee cup back on the saucer, and picked up the newspaper. "Erney," I said, "there's a strange thing going on here—" Instead of reading the paper, he bent down and kissed me.His lips are warm and soft.His mustache touched my lips—it was red and neatly trimmed, and it had grown out of him the first year of our marriage. "I gotta hurry up, baby," he said. "Busy today. No time, huh?" "But it won't take long—" He stroked my hair and left. It was just me and my children in the house.Fifteen minutes into a terrible long day, only then I didn't know it was going to be a terrible long day.

Ernie got out of trouble easily.When Ernie is in a good mood, he has a great sense of humor, and he doesn't care if you make fun of him... I stood up suddenly.Maybe he's still in a bad mood about last night, maybe that's why he left in such a hurry.I shake my head.Ernie hurried off to work without needing a reason, as he often did. I started clearing the table, deliberately ignoring the newspaper, which was next to my plate.I carefully cleared away the dishes, wiped the table, lifted Liz from the chair, wiped the food from her mouth, carried her to the living room, put her on the crib, and handed her various toys.

Then I stood motionless, as if waiting for something.Then, my heart started beating violently, thump, thump, thump, it beat faster and faster, louder and louder, until my ears and the small room were filled with the beating sound, and suddenly, I couldn't help but yelled: "No!" The violent beating slowly stopped. "What I should do," I said to myself, "is to go back to the kitchen, pick up that paper, and read it over carefully and seriously." I am ashamed.I don't like suspicious wives who hunt around for evidence of their husband's infidelity, looking for lipstick, notes, and phone numbers.

Suddenly, I walked resolutely to the kitchen, but instead of picking up the newspaper, I started washing the dishes.There were indistinct sounds: Liz's mumbled murmurs, Steve's murmurs, the roar of motorway cars. "I want to see it," I said aloud, walking to the table.The headline was like a cry: GIRL BATTLE TO DEATH FOUND ON GOL COURSE "This morning, the body of eighteen-year-old Mary Adams was found beside the bushes on the 16th hole of the Arnoldon Golf Course by a Killed by repeated blows to the head. No murder weapon was found. Miss Adams, who lives with her mother at 1617 Central Avenue, is known to have had many suitors.

Police Chief Hampton Jones said the killing was similar to the killing of Sandra Sims, also 18, on a Kansas City golf course five years earlier.That time, the murder weapon was found, which was a car jack. The portrait on the right is from Kansas City, based on an account of the suspect by an eyewitness who saw Miss Hims leave the Kansas City bar with the man at the end. " My eyes left the report and fell on the portrait in the middle of the paper.My heart beat violently again. Curly hair, round nose, sunken cheeks, square chin, thin lips. I felt feverish all over and was terrified.I stared dumbfounded at the face of my husband, Ernie, who was staring back at me from the newspaper.The only difference was a moustache, a crew cut, and twenty pounds more.When I first met Ernie, he was like that.

The church bell rang, nine o'clock. I gazed at the two orange trees in the yard that Ernie took good care of. This portrait is nothing but a product of the imagination of a painter five years ago. Ernie would only laugh when he saw it.What does it matter?No one will notice, except the cranky wife.Ernie has grown a mustache, cut his hair short and gained weight since we moved here.What's all the fuss about? Children, dogs, men, old women, neighbors, everyone loves Ernie.No one would believe that he murdered. I love him and I don't believe he would kill.You don't love a man who kills a girl.A gentle, quiet man like Ernie would not do such a thing.

When he encounters something unhappy, he will go for a walk.When he came back from a few hours of walking, he would forget his troubles, still so gentle, just like last night. I close my eyes and lean forward.The chair creaked like I heard it last night and I didn't pay attention at the time. when was thatWhat time is it?a bit? Eighteen years old and just beginning to live.Was Mary Adams a blonde?Does she have curly hair and a scarf around her? Eighteen—five years ago, when I first met Ernie, when I first saw his strong, muscular hands, I was eighteen too.At that time, he was not working in a garage.He was neatly dressed, a bachelor, and he went to my mother's to sell appliances.

My mother fell in love with him immediately, and when my father came home from a business trip, he talked to Ernie for half the evening and ate an entire cake that I had made with so much love.Yes, I fell in love with him the first week. For two consecutive months, he came to the white house in our small town every weekend, and we all had a very happy time together. "I don't want to say goodbye to you, I don't want to go back to town," Ernie always said. He came one Saturday and was very excited. "A man in California who advertised in a newspaper for an auto mechanic was making good and steady income. I wrote him and he called and told me—he's up for me!"

We got married that week.On the train, Ernie has grown a short beard on his upper lip. Five years ago, at the age of eighteen, I left the white house in my hometown and the city. City, what city? Does she have hairpins on her head?Hairpins were pinned to her head, and those thin steel wires were pierced into her skull.It must be painful... …I walked out of the house and got into the old car, which worked like new thanks to Ernie's great skills. Liz sat next to me.Steve stood in the backseat, talking incessantly.I started thinking about what to buy. Bread, margarine, city, eggs, what city, pastry, Kansas City.That's the city, Kansas City.Sugar, Kansas City, twenty-five miles from White House and Mom and Dad—Steve starts counting the bells. It's ten o'clock, two hours have passed since eight o'clock. "Eight-nine-ten" Steve counted. The supermarket door opened automatically, which made Steve very curious. I took Liz by the hand and walked in.The market was so bright I felt as if I had just stepped out of a tunnel.The hustle and bustle of customers, the crackling of cash registers and the rustle of shopping bags made me feel like I was back in my normal circle. I picked things out, calculated prices, and gradually forgot about the newspaper. At the meat counter, something is wrong again. "Have some ribs," I said. The butcher nodded. "All right, Mrs. Cochrane. As usual?" "right." I gazed into the bank of mirrors behind the butcher: I was as usual, short brown hair, carefree eyes, an ordinary image of a young, supermarket-shopping mother. In the mirror, beside me, an arm is raised.He held a machete in his hand. The knife is raised.It fell with a bang.Up, down, up, down—hitting "Okay, okay," I screamed. The arm stopped. "Hey, it hasn't been cut yet—" He shrugged, wrapped the bloody meat in thick white paper, wrote numbers on it, and pushed it to me. It took me a lot of courage to lift the bag of meat. At the cheese counter, Jim's wife called to me, "See you tonight." "Eros, what's the matter tonight?" "Eat light meals, don't you remember?" Every other week, on Fridays we get together with seven other couples.This time at Eros' house. "I'm not sure I'll go. Nobody's watching the kids—" "Bring them along." I go to the cashier. "Ernie doesn't like—" Eros laughed. "Eros will love anything you do." I am speechless. Ernie is always very considerate of me.When he is at home on Sunday, he will do housework for me, such as taking care of the children, taking out the garbage, cleaning the kitchen and so on.Plus, he's always in overalls when he's doing those chores.He did it for me, right? But then, I wondered, did he do it because it was less noticeable? I'm looking for Steve at the checkout desk.He was sitting on a stack of magazines, looking down at a comic.My eyes moved from him to the newspaper stand. The word "hit" yelled at me, Ernie's face from five years ago yelled at me, and Eros—I grabbed the edge of the cash register. Eros's arm rests on me. "Son, you're pale. What's the matter? Are you scared?" She laughed. "The guy's five hundred miles away now." I tried to regain my composure and said, "I'm fine, I'm fine." I walked out of the supermarket with the guy who was holding my purchases for me.The sun shines on me with no warmth.It's strange that the supermarket seemed very bright just now, but now it's like a tunnel, and it's dizzyingly bright outside. "Madam, are you going to put these in the trunk?" I nod. "Then you must give me the key." I took out my key case and walked to the back of the car.I found my hands were shaking as I inserted the key.I turned the key, and the boy reached up and lifted the back cover, and put the big and small bags inside. I raised my hand, ready to close the back cover. Suddenly, I stopped.My heart stopped beating.Even with your new purchases packed in, you can tell something isn't right with the suitcase. I peered at the tool box, the spare tire, trying to figure out what was missing from the trunk. I figured it out and was taken aback at the same time.I got halfway in, pushing away those shopping bags, looking and touching like hell, hoping it was there. The car jack is gone!Ernie has been adamant about keeping it in the trunk since the tire was retreaded, and now, that sturdy; old jack is gone! I don't know how I got home, but, as I pulled into the courtyard, I realized the church bells had struck eleven. Ah, the morning is almost over.I've washed the dishes and bought things, now it's time to burn the garbage.The newspaper on the table will soon be reduced to ashes. I took a pair of scissors out of the drawer and sat down at the kitchen table.I carefully cut out the first page of the newspaper, folded it carefully, and put it in my purse.Then I crumpled up the newspaper and put it on top of the wastebasket and carried it to the back yard.I emptied the wastebasket and struck a match.I reckoned rightly that a newspaper burns very quickly and sets everything else on fire—but it cannot burn evil thoughts. As I walked into the kitchen, the phone rang. "Hello," I heard a kind voice. "Is that you, Sarah?" I was so excited that I almost dropped the phone on the ground. "Ernney?" "I've been on the phone all morning." He sounded anxious. "I'm out shopping." "Are you still angry about what happened last night?" I thought calmly, it depends on what happened last night. "no, what happened?" He hesitated. "You seemed a little—a little strange this morning." "strangeness?" "You're still a little weird." This time he sounded weird, a little defensive, and a little inquiring. "I'm fine." "Look, Sarah," he blurted out. "I'm just going for a walk, see? I'm really upset, so I'm going for a walk." I raised my hand and looked at it. "It's been a long time?" I could hear him take a breath before he replied, "A long time, when you fell asleep—" "I know." "You weren't asleep?" I thought about it. "A bit—foggy." "Ah, I hope—" "why?" "Don't ask. You still sound weird. Look, I forgot my lunch and I have to keep working. I'm—painting an old car—" "I'm sorry," I'm really sorry . "I forgot to prepare lunch for you and asked you to bring it." Before eight o'clock, there was an hour. "I was sitting down and reading the paper—" I bit my lip hard. "What happened to the newspaper?" His voice was loud and harsh. "nothing." "Jim just picked up a car. How—" "I'm very sorry--" "Oh, can you bring me my meal? I said—" "I'm listening." Can I send him the meal?That newspaper clipping was in my wallet, and I was thinking about it, how could I be as comfortable with him as I always am? "I have something to do." He said slowly. "I think you'd better come here." "children--" "I want to see you, Sarah." Ernie had never spoken to me in that commanding tone. I slowly hung up the phone and cut him off. The phone rang again immediately. "You hung up. Why?" I took a deep breath. "Because I'm going to make you lunch." He snorted. "Well, one more thing. Last night, when I was walking, I walked over to the factory. Guess I should get the paint on that old car--" "Yeah? "My God, don't do that! "Ah, I've got a bit of paint on my gray trousers. Going to Jim's for dinner today." He made a strange sound. "You know me, I don't have a lot of trousers to change. So please help me get the paint off my trousers, please?" "Ok." "And, Sarah—" "What's up?'" If it's too much trouble then forget it - I'll have someone bring me a hamburger. " "Does this feel good to you?" I'm calm now and ready to ask. "I just started doing laundry—" That sounds reasonable, Sarah. "Fine. It's just you—" "Strange, I know. I'm fine now." "Okay. See you tonight. Don't forget the gray pants, huh?" "Never forget, Ernie." Ask now! "What's up?" "That old car, what color did the owner ask you to paint it?" This time Ernie gave a short laugh. "Pink. Isn't that ridiculous?" He hangs up. I went into the bedroom and opened the closet door.Ernie's pants were hanging on the hanger. I took it to the kitchen, to the brightest window, and let the sun shine on my trousers, so I could see it clearly. Those stains were found at a glance, some small stains, but many.Maybe the old car was going to be painted pink - but the paint didn't get on the flannelette.The stain on the trousers is brown. I felt dizzy all of a sudden.The whistle sounded at noon.Liz began to cry.Steve slammed the door and entered the house.The noise echoed throughout the house. But the loudest, harshest noise came from inside me, and it nearly tore me in two. My husband Ernie Cochrane is a murderer! When you fear something is true, you try to deny it, but when you see the undeniable evidence, you calm down with shock.I calmly set the kids up for naps, bending over and kissing them. That was a mistake.I slowly recovered from the shock.These lovely children, how could their father be a murderer? And yet, deep within me, I was shouting: If he is, if, if. I closed the door and went to the small table in the bedroom. I thought the morning was like one scene in a serial drama, and now that it was afternoon, it was time for another scene. what to do? I opened my wallet and pulled out the clipping. How can I doubt it?Isn't the evidence right in front of my eyes? I know, I'm putting off making a decision.What should you do when you believe your husband is a murderer and no one else knows? Assuming others never suspected it?My heart skipped a beat with a strange sense of relief.Assuming business as usual, he went to work every morning and came home at night, no one would have dreamed that Ernie was a brutal murderer-everyone liked him very much. The relief suddenly disappeared.What if he kills again? Impulsively, I walked over to the phone and quickly dialed the number.After what seemed to be hours of waiting, a heavy, distant voice came. "The police station.", "Please transfer to the criminal investigation department." I heard myself say. The voice raised alarm. "Criminal investigation? Ma'am, do you mean murder?" "I mean murder." How could my voice be so calm? "Please wait." In some office in the middle of the city, maybe people are busy looking for clues. My eyes fell on the gray fleece trousers, which were resting on the back of the kitchen chair. I thought, come on the phone.I'll give you a clue.I'm getting a little impatient with the wait now, the buzz of the phone piercing my ears and brain. "I'm Officer Anderson," came a new voice, tense. "Criminal Investigation Division." "I—" I said. "I—" I swallowed.I looked up, not looking at the phone, the numbers on it seemed to be beating and spinning constantly. "I think—" I jerk my head toward the door. Ernie stood there.He was like a giant, and his shoulders seemed to block the entire door.His eyes seemed to be all blue.His mouth under the beard was tightly pursed. "Ma'am," came the officer's voice again. "Hey, ma'am—" I felt the microphone slip from my hand, and vaguely felt myself fall with it. Eyes fixed on Ernie's as I fell.Then it was dark. I'm trying to climb a black staircase.Very difficult, but I must try.A voice on the roof insisted that I climb up.Suddenly, the sound became very loud and everything was filled with light.Ernie's face was so close to mine I could see the pores of his dark skin.His arms were tightly wrapped around me, and I was lying on the bed. I felt a burst of relief and tears rolled down my cheeks. "A nightmare," I mumbled. "Just a nightmare. Ah, Ernie, honey, I dreamed you—you—" and I saw his eyes. This is not a nightmare. "I never thought you'd pass out so suddenly," he said thoughtfully, his hands gripping my shoulders.From where he grabbed me, I felt a shiver run through my body, all the way down to my toes. "You're shivering on such a hot day." He stood up. "Lie down and don't move, I'll call the doctor." Let him do it, I said inwardly.It's good to have a doctor, at least there is someone in the house. I heard him trudging toward the kitchen, pausing, then starting to walk back. Ernie walked up to me again. "He went out, but I left a message." Ernie stretched out his big hands and walked towards me slowly. I suddenly remembered something and felt extreme panic in my heart.I have that newspaper clipping left on the kitchen table, if he sees and reads that clipping, if he picks up the phone and hears Officer Anderson's voice, then Ernie is going to kill me too ! Maybe it's not about wanting—but about killing me! I hurried to speak: "Why is it such a coincidence, you just came home?" "The spray gun was clogged and Jim said we needed to get a new one. We jumped into the truck and suddenly I saw hope. "Jim here?" He shook his head. "He asked me to get out of the car and come in for lunch." He was leaning over again now. I was so terrified that he had already called the doctor and it would have seemed natural if I had died. "don't want!" He takes his hands away. "I—I have a headache." Steve yelled, "Mom!" I struggled to sit up and Ernie pushed me down. "Well, I'll dress the children and bring them to Eros." That's fine, the kids will be safe. He walks out of the bedroom. I got out of bed right away and tiptoed to the kitchen, glad Ernie didn't take off my shoes. The microphone is already on the cradle.The newspaper clippings are still on the table, next to my wallet.Has it been moved? I grabbed the newspaper clipping and wallet with a snap, stuffed the clipping into the compartment of the wallet, took the wallet back to the bedroom, and stuffed it under my pillow.Then I lay down again panting. A car horn sounded outside, and Ernie hurried into the bedroom. I sit up. "You go, I'll take care of the children, I'm fine." "You look strange," he said slowly. "You're behaving strangely, too. Is there something on your mind?" Maybe he didn't see that clipping, and I felt hopeful again. "You go, Ernie. Don't worry. I will wait for you to come back. "It's a significant commitment. I have to find out what he did, even if it kills me! He said, "I can't buy a hamburger, baby, I don't have any money." I reached under the pillow and took out my wallet. "How could it be there? It wasn't there when I carried you in," I said with difficulty. "It was there. You were—too nervous." I leaned over, stuffed the money into his overalls pocket, and forced myself to smile. Jim's horn blared twice more.After Ernie closed the kitchen door and left, the phone rang.I picked up the receiver, and at the same time I heard the church bell chiming the hour outside. "Who?" My voice was very tense. "I'm Officer Anderson. Are you all right, ma'am?" "Of course I'm fine." "You hung up. You hung up on murder." "Police? You must be mistaken." "We traced the call." "But I didn't call." "Maybe there's something wrong here. Is there anyone else in your room?" I laughed oddly and shrieked. "There are two children." I heard him say something to the person next to him, and then: "Not sure how this happened, ma'am. Sorry to bother you. Maybe someone out of their minds—" "Yes. "Mentally abnormal, I may be such a person! "All right then." I hold the microphone for a long time, listening to the distant hum. And so it was decided. I can't turn over the clippings, pants, and Ernie to the police.After five years of marriage and two kids, I couldn't sell Ernie. Why can't I betray Ernie?I have to get this thing out of the way. I called the doctor's office. "Mrs. Cochrane," the girl replied, "we haven't heard from your husband at all." I hang up the phone. Ernie didn't call the doctor.Why?If I thought the doctor was coming, then I would have stayed home.Then he can sneak out of the garage and kill me as soon as he finds the right opportunity. Wait, I'm just guessing.I should think about it. I called Eros. "I've got to get there before the bank closes, can you take care of the kids—" "Exactly." "I'll be right over." The Eros house seemed safe enough for me to stay there.However, I continued to drive to a nearby bank, withdraw all our deposits, and exchange them for travelers checks.It wasn't a lot of money, but it was enough for me and my kids to go back home to Kansas City, under the protection of my parents.Maybe then, I can confess him. If I were a detective, where should I start?Where did Ernie start last night? I drove back to the end of our block.On the right is the movie theater, I parked the car. The conductor's name is Sandy. "Sandy," I said, "do you know Mr. Cochrane?" she laughed. "Everybody around here knows Ernie." "Sandy, last night—were you here last night?" "Of course I am. You know me, I'm always here." "Did you see Ernie—Mr. Cochrane? Did he come in?" My stomach suddenly throbbed with pain, and that's when I realized I hoped Ernie would be tired by the time he got here , I walked into the cinema to watch a movie, and went home after I calmed down. "He didn't come in." "He didn't come in?" I repeated aloud. "You mean you saw him?" "Yes, about nine-thirty, maybe earlier. I greeted him, but he didn't seem to see me." "Thank you." I walked back to the car. Sandy yelled, "He's going that way." She flicked her thumb to the left, and I headed that way. Halfway down the block, I stopped the car again.Ernie took me to Joe's Bar several times for sandwiches and beer, which was cheap. The bar is very dark inside.Before I saw Joe, his voice came. "Come right now." His voice changed when he saw it was me. "Mrs. Cochrane," he laughed happily. "You also drink during the day?" "What I want to know is—er—Joe, I'm not a very inquisitive wife, but Ernie—" "You're investigating your husband, aren't you?" I really want to turn around and run away.I'm doing worse than betraying Ernie, and it's raising suspicions.Would Sandy remember the kiosk where Sarah Cochrane went around asking where her husband was?Does Joe get suspicious when people talk about murders in the papers?Won't. Ernie is very different from what it used to be.Only I can remember what he was like five years ago--of course, Ernie himself will remember. "Just kidding," I said right away. "But he—last night—" He nodded affirmatively. "He's here." I felt a burst of relief again.If he's been sitting here -- that's an alibi. "how long?" Joe laughed again. "Drank a glass of wine and left quickly." It was torture. Joe reached for a delicate wall clock behind the bar counter and began to wind it. "I think it was ten o'clock." At this moment, a bird overhead began to cry. I leave the bar and walk around the corner.What next?Ernie left the house at about nine-thirty, turned left along the movie theater, had a beer here at ten o'clock... When did he come home? I stare at my two flats.If they had noses and could smell like dogs, they could have taken me along Ernie's way, away from Arnoldon Golf Course, but of course they couldn't. After ten streets, the store was gone, and I saw a brown wooden board with gold letters on it: Arnoldton Golf Club Last night, the Arnoldton Golf Course was dark. Eight-year-old Mary Adams was beaten to death. Suddenly, I couldn't take it anymore.I couldn't walk over and find the sixteenth hole.I am not a detective.I am the wife of Ernie Cochrane, and until today, I trusted him very much.I sincerely hope he is innocent. I ran until my ribs ached and I couldn't breathe until I reached my old car.I sat in the car, staring at the stars, watching the rain fall. When I was out of breath, I started the car and drove it carefully home.I took a large suitcase out of the garage, put all the kids' clean clothes in it, and closed the box.I carried the box to the back yard and stuffed it in the trunk of the old car, avoiding where the jack used to be. I stood motionless, knowing I had forgotten something I needed. I ran back to the kitchen and they were still on the back of the chair - the pair of pants I was supposed to wash had some small stains on them.I rolled it up and put it in a brown paper bag. I was about to close the door when the front door bell rang. Brown paper bag in hand, I went to open the door.A tall man stood there.The rain had dampened his shoulders and the brim of his hat. "Who are you looking for?" I asked, paper bag in hand. "Are you Mrs. Cochrane?" I nod. He spread out his palm, and a police badge magically appeared inside. "Police. I'm Officer Anderson. I want to talk to you." "Me?" I groaned. "Come in." I stepped back to let him in. The clock on the mantelpiece struck four. "Your house is beautiful." Want to throw me off my guard?Want me to think everything is normal? "Please sit down." "I don't want to bother you, ma'am." Suddenly, the paper bag under my arm seemed very heavy, I put it on the table, and in my mind, I felt that each stain was huge and striking. Officer Anderson watched me. "You seem like a very sensible woman," he said suddenly. "yes?" "You look like the kind of women who would tell the police if they had information the police wanted." I should have expected this move.They might have tracked down Ernie. "Mrs. Cochrane," said the Inspector calmly, "a girl was beaten to death last night. Everyone knows about it. She's not a great person, but neither good nor bad should die like that. .” I asked sharply, "What does this have to do with me? You think I killed her?" He smiled. "Of course not. I'm here for that call. As I told you earlier, there was a mention of murder that set us off. We tracked down your call—" Did the receiver come out of my hand when I passed out slipped down?Did I hang it up myself? "The first time I spoke to you, I thought it was a mistake. You sounded very composed. But the operator was not mistaken. " "Everybody gets it wrong." He nodded. "I thought I was mistaken. After talking to you, I got busy again. While I was surveying the crime scene, I remembered your phone again." "I didn't call." "Well, let it be someone else. This woman said she wanted the criminal investigation department. Do you remember what she said?" I swallowed hard. "Don't try to trick me, I didn't call." He shrugged. "She said: 'I mean murder. '""What next? " "Then I came to answer the phone. You—she—said, 'I think—I think—' and she stopped talking.The telephone line rang for three or four minutes. " I said angrily, "What are you trying to prove?" "I was worried, worried that you—she—may have been killed. On the golf course, I suddenly understood. You—she—didn't hang up, but seemed to walk away slowly, and after a while , someone picked up the microphone. I heard breathing." "Breathing?" "Yes, but not of a woman, but of a man's deep breathing." I suddenly panicked. "Did he—say—say anything? Didn't the officer shake his head." No word.You look normal, but you're clearly lying.Why? " I really wanted to tell Officer Anderson everything before what he feared happened. Tell him, then I won't have to get in that old car and get away.I don't even have to tell him, just hand him the brown paper bag and say, "My husband wore these pants last night," and he'll understand. However, I hesitated again.I wanted him out of here too, and I took Liz and Steve into my father's arms and asked him what I should do. "I'm so sorry," I said. "I'm—I'm—a coward. There's no one living on either side of us, and the back of the yard leads right up to the orange grove." Suddenly, I was really scared.This is real.If Ernie wants to kill me, no one will hear me even if I shout out.I took a deep breath. "Ah, I read those reports in the papers this morning. As I was taking out the trash, I—I thought I heard something. I locked all the doors and called the police. When I heard your serious I nearly—passed out at the sound. If there was a man, he'd be the homeowner—" Officer Anderson looked bored. "Okay, I'll take a look outside." He walked past me and out the door. I grabbed the brown paper bag, hurried into the bedroom, and stuffed it on the top shelf of the closet.At this time, the phone rang. "Honey," Eros yelled, "Jim drove home a case of beer, Ernie took his car, and now he's borrowing Jim's car to bring the kids home." "Has he left?" "left." She hangs up. left.how long ago?有人敲后门。 “这里看上去很正常，”安德森警官报告说。 你快走吧，我在心里催促他。埃尔尼随时会开着吉姆的旧卡车回来，你一看到他，就会发现他就是报纸上画的那个人，虽然他重了二十英磅，剪了平头，留起了小胡子，但这一切都瞒不过你的眼睛。 “我很抱歉给你带来那么多的麻烦。” “没有关系。”我开始关门。 He turned around. “考克兰太太，”他说。 “当你害怕时，你会说不出话，会像男人一样呼吸。”他快步走向他的汽车。 他的汽车发动声与其他两种声音混在一起：教堂报时的钟声和吉姆旧汽车的轰隆声。 现在要放松，放松。我双手紧握在一起，既像是畏惧，又像是祈祷。 窗外，埃尔尼正把丽兹和斯蒂夫从卡车上抱下来，这构成了一幅温馨的画面。 雨后的阳光灿烂无比，似乎把人间的一切烦恼都消除了。看到他们三人在一起，我极力要否定自己白天的一切想法。埃尔尼把丽兹放在他的肩上，向后门走来，我们站在那里，互相凝视着对方。 看着他的眼睛，我命令自己。他的眼睛深处怎么有一种严厉的神情，就像温柔的水面下面的岩石？ 他平常说话总是很热情的，现在那声音中也有一些严厉。“刚离开的那辆车是谁的？” 我结结巴巴地说：“一个推销小人书的人。” “你一定听他说了很久。我从古姆那条街下来时，那辆汽车就已经在这儿了。 我在拐角就看到它了。 " “他非常健谈。” 埃尔尼看看钟。“五点十分了。过一会儿，我们就得打扮一下了。” 打扮！那条裤子我还没洗呢！ 他的嘴巴是不是抿紧了？ “我没有办法除掉上面的——油漆。我准备把它洗掉算了。” 他仍然沉默不语。 “我把棕色的那条给你熨一下。” 他开口了。“你觉得好一点了吗？” "All right." “埃洛斯说你去了银行。为什么？” 这次轮到我沉默不语了。 “是不是取钱去买我们谈过的那件衣服？” I shake my head. “那也是你的钱。” 忘掉那件衣服吧，它惹出的麻烦已经够多的了。忘掉昨天晚上吧。 " “我非常愿意忘掉昨天晚上，”埃尔尼轻声说。 “我要熨一下你的那条棕色裤子。但是我——我的头——我仍然觉得有点头晕。我没法找到照看孩子们的人——”埃尔尼断然说道：“你不去，我也不去。” 我决定跟埃尔尼一起去参加聚餐，这是一种拖延的方式，尽量避免和埃尔尼单独相处。 我决定请加拉赫太太来照看孩子们。我将像往常一样，和埃尔尼一起去吉姆家，又说又笑。当男人们到客厅打扑克时，我就找个借口，说是放心不下孩子，悄悄地溜回家，把孩子们带上车，一同离去。 当我回到老家，当我父亲知道了整个事情之后，我将把那条裤子寄给安德森警官，附上一张便条，上面写道：“这是埃尔尼·考克兰的裤子。”那么一切就解决了。 加拉赫太太同意马上过来，我说我将开车去接她。在车库敞开的门口，我听到有轻微的响动。 埃尔尼背对着我，正得意地吹着口哨。他右手在有节奏地摆动。一块油腻腻的布在前面甩动。 我一动不动地站着，但是，他好像看到我一样，慢慢转过身，手一点也没停下。我强迫自己的眼睛慢慢地从他的脸移到他的肩，然后经过他有力的手臂，最后落到他的手上。在埃尔尼油腻的手中，是那个失踪了、现在被擦得锃亮的千斤顶！ 突然，教堂的钟声响起来，而且越来越响，六点了。 埃尔尼停止吹口哨。“你脸色很不好。医生来过了吗？” “你给他打过电话吗？” 他的眼睛闪了一下。“你知道我打过。不，等等。”布挥了一下。“电话占线。我是从修理厂打的。” “你告诉我你打了。” “我不想让你着急。他来了吗？” “我告诉他不用来了。啊，我得去接加拉赫太太了。我不想你因为我而留在家里。” “也许我们最好留在家里。你看上去很——奇怪——”我笑起来。“你一整天都这么说。这个千斤顶是从哪儿来的？”我努力使自己的声音显得很自然。 埃尔尼突然向我走来。他双手抓住我的肩膀，使劲把我拉向他。油腻腻的抹布碰到我一边的手臂，凉冰冰的千斤顶碰到另一边的。埃尔尼使劲吻我的嘴。我努力使自己的嘴唇柔和，作出相应的反应。 “这就好，”他放开我，又开始擦千斤顶。“每次我们吵架，我都觉得——很不舒服。”怎么个不舒服，埃尔尼？在我麻木的内心深处，感到一丝怜悯。世界上也许有千千万万像埃尔尼这样的人，他们的心灵深处阴暗扭曲，连他们自己都不敢面对。当他们觉得不舒服时，他们就会做出残暴的行为。他们是精神变态者。 “埃尔尼，”我说，他正向旧汽车后面走去。 "what are you doing?" “把千斤顶放回原处埃” “不，”我向他跑去。行李箱锁上了吗？应该是锁上的，否则安德森警官会注意到的——埃尔尼拉了拉行李箱盖。“该死的，”他轻声说。“你的钥匙在哪儿？” 我抓住他的手，冲他微笑着说：“以后再放吧，朋友。我们要参加聚会，记得吗？” “我真搞不懂你，”他耸耸肩，走进车库，把千斤顶放到工作台“你好像非常感兴趣，”埃尔尼说，打开卡车的门。“三天以来，千斤顶就在工作台上最高一层的架子上。” 我们一起走进吉姆家的大门，我知道，我们俩，埃尔尼和莎拉，看上去像一对模范夫妻。这时，教堂的钟声响起，七点钟了。 看到这么多人，这么多朋友，我感到好多了。他们围着我；保护我，使我不仅免受埃尔尼的伤害，而且还不再遭受那些可怕念头的折磨。 这真是太妙了，就像牙疼突然停止了。你知道牙还会疼起来，你还得把这个牙连根拔掉，补上新牙。但是，至少在这一刻，它不疼了，这真是太妙了。 饭桌上，当我听到吉姆的话时，牙又开始疼起来，吉姆说：“……还没有线索。什么样的怪物会做这种事呢？还计划得这么周密。” 埃洛斯喊道：“啊，吉姆——别说了。” 埃尔尼问：“莎拉，你怎么了？” 我低着头，假装没有听见。 我们吃饭。我们收拾桌子。我们放唱片，在不平的砖地上跳舞。我们喝啤酒。 夜幕降临，车库边的聚光灯投下一束光柱，显得人影幢幢。埃尔尼没有走到我身边，他甚至没有邀请我跳舞。 接着，像接到信号一样，男人们都走进客厅打牌。女人们躺在靠椅上，我也仰面躺在那里，凝视着天空，好像我从来没有见过天空一样。 我穿着一件黄色晚礼服，披着一条白色围巾，我就穿着这身衣服带着孩子们踏上回家的漫长旅途吗？我将离开这些朋友，越过我一直害怕的高山，穿过似乎是无边无际的沙漠，驶向中西部地区吗？ 我突然想道，我可以从埃洛斯卧室打电话给安德森警官。我身边的这些人都会保护我的。或者我可以把一切告诉吉姆，让他“你好像非常感兴趣，”埃尔尼说，打开卡车的门。“三天以来，千斤顶就在工作台上最高一层的架子上。” 我们一起走进吉姆家的大门，我知道，我们俩，埃尔尼和莎拉，看上去像一对模范夫妻。这时，教堂的钟声响起，七点钟了。 看到这么多人，这么多朋友，我感到好多了。他们围着我，保护我，使我不仅免受埃尔尼的伤害，而且还不再遭受那些可怕念头的折磨。 这真是太妙了，就像牙疼突然停止了。你知道牙还会疼起来，你还得把这个牙连根拔掉，补上新牙。但是，至少在这一刻，它不疼了，这真是太妙了。 饭桌上，当我听到吉姆的话时，牙又开始疼起来，吉姆说：“……还没有线索。什么样的怪物会做这种事呢？还计划得这么周密。” 埃洛斯喊道：“啊，吉姆——别说了。” 埃尔尼问：“莎拉，你怎么了？” 我低着头，假装没有听见。 我们吃饭。我们收拾桌子。我们放唱片，在不平的砖地上跳舞。我们喝啤酒。 夜幕降临，车库边的聚光灯投下一束光柱，显得人影幢幢。埃尔尼没有走到我身边，他甚至没有邀请我跳舞。 接着，像接到信号一样，男人们都走进客厅打牌。女人们躺在靠椅上，我也仰面躺在那里，凝视着天空，好像我从来没有见过天空一样。 我穿着一件黄色晚礼服，披着一条白色围巾，我就穿着这身衣服带着孩子们踏上回家的漫长旅途吗？我将离开这些朋友，越过我一直害怕的高山，穿过似乎是无边无际的沙漠，驶向中西部地区吗？ 我突然想道，我可以从埃洛斯卧室打电话给安德森警官。我身边的这些人都会保护我的。或者我可以把一切告诉吉姆，让他来处理这事。但是，我躺在椅子上，两脚交叉，双手抱胸，我太紧张了，我冲着星星摇摇头，我不能那么做。 我可以从埃尔尼身边逃走，但是，今天晚上我不想站起来告诉他们，说埃尔尼是个残忍的杀人犯。 埃洛斯的手落到我的肩上。“我们去喝点柠檬汁吧。” 我从躺椅上站起来。我们在黑暗的屋外，喝了杯柠檬汁。 Now, the opportunity has come. “我得回一下家，”我低声对埃洛斯说。“别为我担心。加拉赫太太——”她拍拍我的肩膀。“好吧。带点冰块回来，好吗？” 我点点头，向门口走去。钟声似乎非常响亮。我悄悄地快步绕过房子。街道就在我面前。街上一盏灯也没有。 当埃尔尼感到不适的时候，他就是跑到这么黑暗的地方，寻找发泄。昨天晚上，他就是这么跑到黑暗的十六号洞，那里什么事都可能发生，没有人会发现。只有到了天亮时才会——就在这时，我听到身后的脚步声。脚步声并不急促，但步伐比我的大，它们在慢慢走近。 我加快步伐。我小跑起来。接着，我开始狂奔起来。身后的脚步也跑起来。我眼前直冒金星，跑到我们家的门廊。我的手握住门的把柄——埃尔尼的一只手紧紧抓住我的肩膀。 I screamed.埃尔尼的另一只手捂住我的嘴巴。 加拉赫太太打开门。“天哪，”她喊道，“你们简直吓死我了！” 埃尔尼气喘吁吁，但他平静地说：“对不起，我妻子跟我赛跑呢。” 我努力抑制自己剧烈跳动的心。“埃尔尼将送你回家，”我说。 “然后他再回去参加晚会。我——我要睡觉了。” 埃尔尼说：“我也要睡觉了。”他给加拉赫太太裹上围巾。“我们走吧，加拉赫太太。”我关上门，靠在上面。然后我全身无力地走进厨房，倒了一杯水。那辆旧汽车停在院子的车道上，我的东西就放在上面。“现在我该怎么办呢？”我大声问道。 前门轻轻地开了，又关上。我可以听到埃尔尼的呼吸声，以及插销的叮挡声。 我听到他沉重的脚步声，这脚步刚才在街上追逐过我。他慢了一步，在我们自己家门口才追上我。 如果他在街道追上我的话，会发生什么事呢？ 我低头看着自己的黄色晚礼服。我无助地想：我可不愿意穿着这样的衣服逃跑。我将穿着这件礼服死去，黄色将被玷污，白色将变成红色。另外，我的头发——埃尔尼站在门口。“你在做傻事。” 我木然地点点头。 "where do you want to go?" “你怎么知道我走了？” “我到厨房去——埃洛斯告诉我的。” silence. 埃尔尼说：“出了昨天晚上的事后，你应该更明白了。” “昨天晚上的什么事？” “一个女孩在高尔夫球场被杀。” "I know." “一个人，只要开了杀戒，就有可能不停地杀下去。” "I know." 埃尔尼动起来。我紧紧抓住水池的边缘，但他没有走近我。 “我认为我们最好彻底解决这事。” “解决什么事？” “你到底在想什么。今天一整天你到底在想什么。” 我差点向他吼叫起来。拿刀子或千斤顶去吧，千斤顶已经擦得很干净了。Kill me.Let's do it.Kill me.快点动手吧！但是，我没有说出口。 “我要上床了，”埃尔尼说，让我大吃一惊。 "I'm waiting for you." 在黑暗中动手。 他走后，我无力地走进客厅，跌坐到最近的一张椅子上。暂时解脱了。也许他会睡着。也许他并不着急。也许他想等我睡着后再动手。 如果他睡着了，我可以打电话给安德森警官。也许，我可以奇迹般地带着孩子们逃脱。我闭上眼睛，在心中拼命祈祷。 过了一会儿，我探身过去打开电视，把声音放得很低。屏幕上出现了播音员的脸，他正在播报十一点新闻，嘴巴动得很快。 开始我没搞清楚他在说什么，突然，我警觉起来。 “……警察干得非常出色。那位年轻人才十六岁，刚从精神病医院出来。他承认上星期来一直跟踪玛丽·亚当斯。昨天晚上，他偷了一辆汽车。当她下班时，他请她上车。他说，当他们开往阿诺顿高尔夫球场偏僻的角落时，她并没有表示反对。他对实际犯罪行为的表述非常混乱，但他把警察领到他扔凶器的地方，凶器是一根高尔夫球棍，他把这根球棍藏在汽车的行李箱中。他谋杀的理由是什么呢？'我不喜欢漂亮姑娘。'”现在接着报道天气情况——“十七岁！我探身关掉电视机。 我全身发烫，好像热牛奶在我动脉中流动一样。我仰面靠在椅子上，觉得头晕目眩。 过了好久，我坐起来，觉得全身疼痛。 埃尔尼就在卧室里。他在等待他的妻子。他妻子白天的举止让他很不理解，伤害了他。可怜的、善良的埃尔尼。 那种疼痛越来越厉害。我杀了人，我进行了一次谋杀。由于猜疑，由于不信任，我谋杀了我丈夫。我把他从一个善良的人变成了一个怪物。 我知道埃尔尼是个好人，所以我没有出卖他。我没有向安德森警官或吉姆透露过任何我的怀疑。我内心深处知道他是个好人。 我开始哭起来，憋了一整天的眼泪汹涌而出。我踉踉跄跄地走向卧室，来到埃尔尼的床边，扑倒在床上。 “原谅我，”我听到自己一遍遍地低声说，“原谅我。” 埃尔尼把我搂进怀中。“原谅你什么，亲爱的？” 这是最可怕的一刻。我不能告诉他，我永远不能告诉他。在我们以后的生活中，那种羞耻和内疚只能由我一个人来承担。谁能跟一个相信他是杀人犯的妻子在一起生活呢？即使这种相信只有短短的一天？ 过了一会儿，我慢慢停止了哭泣。 “我一整天都觉得非常可怕，”埃尔尼说。“你那么奇怪地看着我。在电话里，你非常冷淡。今天中午——啊，亲爱的，你把我吓坏了。” 他长久地亲吻我。 “今天下午我打电话来，你不在。我看到了那个男人。他长得非常英俊，充满自信。架子上的箱子不见了，你又不让我看汽车行李箱——”埃尔尼也非常困惑。 他把我的奇怪的言行当成是我不爱他的证据，认为我要离开他。 我心中充满温柔之情，到了一种心痛的程度。我想让他放心，但是，我不能告诉他实情，那会杀了他的。于是，我只能亲吻他。 我偎在埃尔尼的怀中，听着他满足的呼吸声。我闭上眼睛，轻松地呼吸，现在，我再也不用提心吊胆了。 远外，传来教堂温柔、甜蜜、响亮的钟声。It's twelve o'clock. 我随着钟声入眠：明天，我要为埃尔尼炖菜。他喜欢吃炖菜旅行支票还在烤箱里——明天早晨我可以把它拿出来。 漫长而可怕的一天结束了。 在即将入睡时，我突然坐起来，在黑暗中瞪大眼睛，烤箱——“警察局长汉普顿·琼斯认为，这一凶杀和五年前的桑德拉·希姆丝凶杀案很相似，希姆丝也是十八岁，被杀于堪萨斯城的一个高尔夫球场上。那一次，找到了凶器，那是一个汽车千斤顶。 右边的画像是从堪萨斯城传来的，那是基于一个目击者对嫌疑人的描述，目击者看到希姆丝小姐最后是跟那个男人离开堪萨斯城酒吧的。 " ?