First Gravedigger by Barbara Paul

matters, remember?”
    â€œBut, but you want me to murder somebody!”
    â€œAre you afraid? Is that it? What’ll they do to you? How can they punish you if you’re already dead?”
    Charlie looked as if he wanted to throw up. “I can’t commit murder, Earl.”
    â€œSure you can. Anybody who can kill himself can kill another person,” I said harshly, sure that Charlie would never stop to examine the logic of that . “And Charlie, it’ll be so easy you’ll be amazed. He’s an old man and he won’t give you any trouble at all.”
    In spite of himself Charlie was curious. “Who is it?”
    â€œHis name is Amos Speer. He lives in Fox Chapel.”
    â€œSpeer, Speer.” Trying to place the name. “The guy you work for?”
    â€œThat’s the one. He’s out to get me, and the only way I can survive is to get him first. It’s him or me, Charlie.”
    Charlie shook his head. “Uh, Fox Chapel.”
    I knew what was bothering him. Pittsburgh had a lot of big expensive houses squeezed right up against one another, but the people who lived in the Fox Chapel area of town could afford to surround themselves with land. Amos Speer lived on an estate. But Charlie was thinking about the problem, and that was a good sign.
    â€œIt’ll be easy,” I said confidently. “Saturdays Speer likes to work in his garden. His wife plays tennis every Saturday, regular as clockwork. No servants to worry about—some cleaning women and a couple of gardeners come in during the week, but on weekends only the Speers are there. The house has a security system—Speer keeps his collection of porcelains there. It’s an alarm system that rings at police headquarters if there’s an attempt to break in, and a guard patrols the grounds at night. But Speer won’t be in the house, and you won’t be there at night. You see? All you have to do is avoid the house. Go around to the back—Speer will be in the garden.”
    â€œWhat if he ain’t?”
    â€œHe will be,” I said with a confidence I wasn’t really feeling. “Charlie, it’ll be a piece of cake. One shot. That’s all it’ll take.” I hoped I was keeping the desperation out of my voice.
    Charlie was shaking his head. “I can’t do it, Earl. I don’t think you oughta—you shouldn’t take advantage of me. Not now. It ain’t right, Earl.”
    But I wasn’t finished. “If nothing really matters to you, why should you balk at the idea of killing?”
    â€œBut, but this is different!”
    â€œHow is it different, Charlie? You did say nothing matters, didn’t you? Didn’t you?”
    â€œYeah, but hell—”
    â€œOr were you just playing games?”
    â€œEarl!”
    â€œTrying to get your old buddy to feel sorry for you? Was that it? Was that it, Charlie?”
    â€œNo, no, I meant it. I—”
    â€œThen prove it! Do this for me.”
    â€œAh, Earl, don’t put it like that!”
    â€œThen think of it as a deal. I’ll get a gun for you if you’ll get Speer for me. That’s fair, isn’t it? Speer means nothing to you—you don’t even know the man. But you know me—I’m your friend. At least, I thought I was your friend. Am I your friend, Charlie?”
    â€œSure you are, Earl. You know that.”
    â€œI’ve been your friend for over twenty years. Doesn’t that matter either?”
    Charlie looked ready to be carried out with the garbage.
    â€œDoesn’t that matter either, Charlie?” I persisted. “It does to me. Where else could you have gone last night? Do you know anybody else in the world who would have let you in?” He started crying again. “Even when you told me the mob was after you—did I kick you out? Did I?”
    He ran his sleeve under his nose and shook his head.
    â€œCharlie, did it