Gray Matter by Shirley Kennett

menial jobs (no-brainers, he would chuckle) and sometimes bought himself some female company. Then he would get the urge again, the desire to fill the void inside where love should have been. If he could just do this thing or have that thing, life would somehow be better. So he killed in cycles, and each cycle had a theme and was marked by some ritual which was important to him at the time. The theme of the last cycle was sports, and as far as he was concerned, he was now a well-rounded athlete, even though he still got out of breath when he took the basement stairs two at a time. The new theme was fine arts, and since Pauley Mac had recently taken up whittling, the ritual was carving his self-portrait into his victim’s skin. His first carefully chosen victim was a pianist from the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, because Ma always thought playing the piano was a fine thing to do.
    Pauley Mac checked the phone book, but as he suspected, there were several listings which could be the man he wanted. Or it could be none of them, if Schultz had an unlisted number. This did not faze him at all; it simply meant that his search would have to get more personal. He selected some clothes that made him fade away and become practically invisible in public. Jeans, not too tight, not too baggy, worn-looking but not tattered, and a clean blue work shirt with a name tag over the pocket: Mike, your basic blue collar worker on his lunch break.
    Dog usually went around nude at home, so Pauley Mac had to be careful to make sure clothes were in place before Dog went out. Sometimes Pauley Mac slipped up, and Dog made it out the front door naked. Pauley Mac remembered one time in particular that Dog had opened the door on Halloween night and sent a group of trick-or-treaters squealing down the block. Looking back on it, they both thought it was funny.
    Pauley Mac drove over to Euclid Boulevard and parked a couple of blocks away from Burton’s apartment. He got out and walked to the coffee shop, where he took a small table near the window and ordered coffee and a grilled cheese sandwich, no pickles. He didn’t know whether Detective Schultz was in the apartment now or not, and couldn’t risk walking to the rear of the building to check. But he felt confident that sooner or later, he would catch a glimpse of his man in this area.
    He had been there about an hour and was on his third cup of coffee when Schultz came into the coffee shop. He knew at a glance it was the man he was looking for, but he was surprised to see that the detective was accompanied by a woman. A good-looking one, even though she was older than he usually liked, he thought as he ruthlessly squelched Dog’s baser comments. She was curved where a woman should be curved, and solid-looking. He liked a woman with enough padding that her hip bones didn’t jut out. He thought that if you could see a woman’s ribs, she was just too insubstantial to use for sex, at least the kind of sex he liked. Dog growled in assent, and a thrill traveled up and down Pauley Mac’s spine like an elevator.
    Maybe we can slide it in, Dog said. Hot slot, wet pet, juicy Lucy.
    Pauley Mac watched as Schultz ordered a cup of coffee to go and the woman ordered a large Coke. He noticed that they paid separately, which meant that there was no connection between them, romance, sex, or even close friendship, at least not yet. The woman must be a cop too, and they had probably just begun working together. They left, and within a couple of minutes a car came out from the alley and turned onto Euclid. He couldn’t make out the driver, but the good-looking woman was sitting in the front passenger seat holding a large box on her lap which blocked his view of the driver. The car was faded red, a model he didn’t recognize, but he caught the license number. He got up to leave, using the bathroom first. He let Dog have a little fun in there, spraying and smearing the walls, since he wasn’t planning to come back to