Chapter 7
Paula snapped, "I don't see what you have to be upset about! You threw me out!" She made no effort to arrange her clothing.
"That's true, my dear, I did, and I'm truly sorry about that. I wasn't ... myself." If Greer had been drunk earlier, he showed no signs of it now. His speech wasn't slurred. He spoke in the slow, measured cadence that always reminded Cotty of an undertaker's unctuous tones.
Paula's full lips drew back in a sneer. "You were drunk, why don't you admit it?"
"All right, I will admit it. And for that reason I can find it in me to overlook your behavior ... this time."
Cotty gave an involuntary leap as he glimpsed a movement to the right of Greer. Juval stepped forward into the light, grinning at Cotty. That explained how Greer had found them. Juval had been spying. Cotty had always disliked the dwarf; now he actively hated him.
"But this time only. I will not overlook it again. And my behavior does not in any way excuse yours, Starke." Greer's voice had hardened. Now his hand moved into the light and Cotty saw the gun. His terror increased, and he braced himself for the impact of a bullet. "I could shoot you, Starke, and nobody would blame me. Paula..." Greer gestured with the gun. "Please make yourself decent!"
For the first time a flicker of fear showed in Paula's face. She sat up and hastily pulled her dress down.
"I warned you once before, Starke," Greer went on. "But I'm going to take into consideration provocation. ... Paula can be very provocative, I have reason to know ... and go against my better judgment. And I will be candid enough to admit that my motives aren't purely altruistic. You are an excellent front talker. You are making money for me, and I doubt I'd be able to find another talker this late in the season. But this is definitely my last warning. I imagine she has confided in you my ... inadequacy. Even so, a man has some pride. I will not be cuckolded! Not again!" The man's voice was cold, deadly, sending a chill down Cotty's spine. "I will not hesitate to kill you. Both of you! Come, Paula."
Paula jumped to her feet and started off, her face averted from Cotty. The flashlight beam swung away, leaving Cotty in merciful darkness. He watched the three go down the steps, Juval in the lead. The dwarf held the tent wall up, and Paula and Greer ducked under and were gone.
Only then did Cotty find his voice. "I could kill you first! You and that damned dwarf!"
The sound of his voice, harsh and raging, startled him a little. It was only then that he could relax, his fear gradually receding. He found that he was sheathed in a cold sweat, and his muscles ached from being held tense so long.
And yet, even through his scald of humiliation, his mind was already going back over what had happened. There was something about it that didn't ring true. Oh, not Basil Greer. His cold fury and deadly threat was real enough. But Paula....
Cotty felt the same as after the morning he'd found her sunning behind the freak show tent. He felt that she hadn't been as terrified as she'd pretended. And it wasn't quite in character for her to come looking for him, enticing him into laying her. She was too calculating of repercussions to lose control of herself. Even angry at Greer for striking her and throwing her out of their trailer, Cotty couldn't see her risking everything to get back at her husband, especially since she claimed to be terrified of him. But what could her motive be in coldly running the risk?
Cotty gave up trying to figure it out. He got to his feet, adjusted his trousers, and left the tent. Outside, he paused to light a cigarette.
How simple it would be if he could kill Basil Greer! He would like nothing better than to see the man dead. He was certain Paula would marry him. Then he would have Paula, Greer's money, and the freak show! But kill Greer?
Cotty's thoughts jumped back to the time when he'd clobbered that farmer with an axe, and he knew he couldn't kill a man in violence. He admitted that he didn't have the guts for it. Even after all these years, he still awoke from nightmares of that moment. He would never forget the bright blood spurting from the hole the axe had made. If there were only some way he could eliminate Greer without resorting to violence....
He started up the midway. The tent flap to Gil Meeks' joint was up. Cotty hesitated, uncertain. Meeks' blurred voice floated out to him. "Hop over, kid, and join me."
Cotty vaulted over the counter into the warm, womb-like darkness of the tent, smelling of cigar and whiskey.
A bottle rattled against Meeks' teeth; liquor gurgled. "You were hot at the table tonight, kid."
"We grossed seven five at the freak show today."
Meeks whistled softly. "And you won twenty-five big ones. Not bad. Not bad at all!"
"Not only that but I banged Paula Greer," Cotty said crudely. He knew he was being incautious, but he didn't give a damn.
"You have had a day for yourself, haven't you, kid?"
"Up until the time Greer caught us at it."
Meeks whistled again. "And what did he do?"
"Nothing. Just warned us not to let it happen again." He hit his leg with the flat of his hand, the sound like a pistol shot. "I wish the sonofa-bitch was dead! Not for just eight hours but for good!"
"Then you'd have his broad and his show. It figures," Meeks said musingly. "You feel that way, why don't you kill him?"
"Don't think I haven't thought about it!"
"Haven't the stomach for it, huh, kid?"
Cotty drew a ragged breath. "Gil. ... I killed a man once and I don't think I could do it again."
"Yeah. The first one's always the hardest." Meeks drew on the cigar. In the brief, red glow he grinned mirthlessly. "For two grand of what you won tonight, I'll do it for you, kid."
Cotty shook his head violently, sure he hadn't heard right. "How much of that booze have you drunk, Gil?"
"Oh, I'm drunk, but not all that drunk."
"But why would you...? "
"Because I like you, kid, and I don't mind doing a favor for a friend." He laughed lightly, then his voice changed. "That and the money. I once told you I get my kicks nowadays from collecting loot."
"But ... just like that?"
"Just like that." Meeks' voice was matter-of-fact; all traces of drunkenness had disappeared. "It'll be easy. I've already got it figured out. Let me lay it out for you."
Most of the carnies who lived in house trailers hauled them from show lot to show lot behind their cars. But those carnies important enough had their trailers carried overland on a flat car on the show train, thus allowing them to sleep during the hop instead of driving all night. Greer was important enough.
There was a carnie phrase, red-lighting, which meant pushing an enemy, a trouble maker, off the slow-moving train. Usually it meant nothing more than the inconvenience of catching the next train; at worst, it might mean a broken arm or leg.
"But I'm familiar with the route the train takes to the next show town. I've logged it several times before," Meeks went on. "About a third of the way there, around three in the morning when everybody's asleep, the train passes over a mile-long trestle spanning a deep gorge. A body falling into that canyon will splatter like a can of tomatoes when it hits bottom."
"But how will you manage it?" Cotty asked.
"Easy, kid. I'll be in the sleeping car. So will the dwarf. He always sleeps there on these hops. And Greer will be dead drunk by that time. He always is. I'll make my way down the train. ... That'll be no sweat. I've ridden many a freight in my day, dodging brakemen all the way. I'll manage to get Greer to open the trailer door. One push and away he goes! Everybody will think he got up in a drunken stupor, forgot where he was, opened the door and stepped out. Even if somebody does smell dirty work, who'd ever suspect me? What motive could I have for killing Greer?"
Cotty felt a strong pulse of excitement. It just might work! He said, "Too bad you can't handle the dwarf at the same time."
Meeks chuckled. "No sale. No two birds for the price of one. Not even for a buddy. Besides, with Greer out of the way, Juval will be no problem. He'll probably disappear on his own."
Cotty thought of something. "But what about Paula? If she's in the trailer with Greer, won't she be...? "
"That's where you come in. I can't do it all. You shouldn't be on that train, either. They do have reason to suspect you. So you'll manage to miss it, both you and the broad." His laughter had lewd undertones. "You should be able to find something to do to pass the time!"
"I like it!" Cotty exclaimed. In his excitement he jumped to his feet. "All right, Gil, it's a deal!"
"One thing, kid...."
"What's that?"
"The geetus. The two grand in advance, not C.O.D. It's not that I don't trust you, but on a deal like this...."
Cotty managed a half-hour alone with Paula twa nights later. About ten in the evening, a hard rain blew in, sending the townies scurrying for cover. Since it was yet early and on the chance the rain might not last long, they didn't roll the banners up for the night and didn't dig Greer up. Cotty saw Juval squatting on his heels beside the casket, his attention focused on the man inside, and Paula stood at the tent entrance, smoking and staring out at the rain. Cotty seized his chance.
He stepped up behind her and said in a low voice, "Paula, I have to talk to you."
She turned her head slowly. Her face was closed in, almost hostile. "You're awfully brave all of a sudden. You heard what Basil said."
"Greer's asleep and Juval's watching him, so who's to know? Look, this is important."
Her gaze searched his face. Some of his urgency must have gotten through to her, for she said, "All right, Cotty. But it had better be important."
"Where can we talk?"
"The trailer's as safe a place as any."
Cotty held a newspaper over their heads, Paula held her long skirts up out of the mud, and they ran through the pelting rain to the trailer. Cotty had never been inside the Greer trailer. He had peeked in that one time while watching Greer hypnotize himself, but the interior had been dim and all his attention had been focused on Greer.
Inside the trailer Paula flipped on a light and said, "What would you like to drink?"
"Nothing, thanks."
"That's right, you don't drink, do you?" she said with poisonous sweetness. "Well, I can certainly use one."
While she went to the liquor cabinet and made herself a drink, Cotty looked around the trailer. He was both astonished and impressed. He had known the trailer was big, but he had assumed it was probably secondhand, the interior old and drab. It was far from it. It was beautifully furnished, with all the modern appliances. There was a small living room, a kitchenette, a shower, and a bedroom down a short hall. He estimated the trailer to be worth twenty or thirty thousand.
Clearly Greer did have money, after all.
The bedroom door stood open, and Cotty got a glimpse of the bed. A spasm of jealousy gripped him at the thought of Paula sharing that bed with Greer. Then he remembered what she'd told him about Greer and Greer's confirmation of it, and he felt his face stretching in a foolish grin.
"Well?" Paula said impatiently. "What's so darned important?"
Cotty glanced at her, hesitated for a moment, then got right down to it. "Teardown is two nights away. I want you to manage to miss the tfain and stay over with me."
She stared. "You must be out of your skull! You heard Basil! He'll kill us for sure this time!"
Cotty pushed all caution aside. He said softly, "He might not be able to. It might be the other way around."
Expecting a marked reaction, he was disappointed. She accepted it as calmly as though he'd just told her it had stopped raining. She dipped her nose into her glass, took a measured sip. Her mouth, when she took it away from the glass, was moist and very, very red. The green eyes were as opaque as glass. She said, "I think you'd better explain that remark, sweetie."
He shook his head. "No, no. That's just what I can't do. The less you know, the better. Can't you just take me on faith?"
"Faith? On faith?" She started to laugh, then choked it off, eyes narrowing. "Now let's get it straight ... I'm to miss the train, stay behind, and you're to stay with me?"
"That's right."
"And something's to happen to Basil on the train?"
Cotty didn't reply.
Paula finished her drink without taking her gaze from him. She set the glass down very slowly. "We'll need a reasonable excuse."
Exultation swept Cotty. "I'll think of something, don't worry. Just leave it to me."