time you and I went for a ride when it was snowing out.”
Her mouth quivered a little, and she said, “Yeah, well, I knew then. I knew that he loved me, in his way, that he wanted to marry me, but that he was getting in other girls’ pants every chance he could get and I had to strike back somehow. Not that I told him, or wanted him to find out, Christ no. But after that I could live with it better somehow, live with his running around on me. And what the hell, I liked you, Nolan. But you were hopeless. You were a goddamn wall no woman could hope to get behind and make something at all permanent with you. Maybe now there’d be a chance, but then? No way. And so we went for a ride in the country that time, and it was snowing, and it was something special to me. I never cheated on him again, did you know that? And when he cheated on me, when I knew he was or thought he was, I’d remember that time, hold it close to me like some precious goddamn stone, and . . . shit I’m going sentimental on you, Nolan. Can a tough guy like you take it? Jesus.”
“Mary. Do you think it could be the barmaid?”
“Do I what?”
“The killing. Could it have been somebody after the barmaid. A jealous husband. Jealous boyfriend.”
“Maybe. Maybe. I hadn’t thought of that but maybe. Or one of his other bitches, jealous of the new one. Are you saying you agree with me, Nolan? That you think something’s strange about his death?”
“Yeah, I agree. Or sort of agree. Coincidences bother me. I know they’re possible. I been caught up in them before. But I never believe in a coincidence till I look down its throat and up its ass. Then I believe in it. Not until. So. Could you give me a list of the people Breen was involved with, with his gambling?”
“Easily. We didn’t have any secrets where his gambling was concerned. Hell, I helped him handicap. I never caught the bug, but I was around the gambling scene too long not to be at least semi-involved.”
“Good. What about his girls?”
“In that case he was a little secretive. Mostly the girls working in the bar, I guess. They would stay on as help till they tired of him, or vice versa, but usually vice. He was not the best lay in the world, you know.”
Nolan smiled. “That’s not the way he used to see it.”
“Well, he wasn’t really in a position to know, if you know what I mean. Hey, Nolan, what are you going to do? Play detective? Find the killer? I didn’t know you read Mickey Spillane.”
“You want me to level with you, don’t you, Mary?”
“Of course I want you to level. Did you come clear from Iowa to bullshit me?”
He spread his hands. “Personally, I don’t give a damn who killed your husband. Matter of fact, he ran out on me one time. Justifiably, but I just mention it by way of showing I don’t owe him any posthumous favors. However. In this business, when somebody you worked with is killed, in circumstances that are even remotely suspicious, it doesn’t pay to ignore the matter. Your husband worked with me on a lot of jobs. Something out of one of those past jobs might have crawled out of the woodwork and killed him. Which affects me, obviously. So I can’t feel comfortable till I find out who was responsible for your husband’s killing. Plus, I admit I got some feelings for you. I figure maybe you would feel better if you knew what was really behind his death.”
“Do you ever think about it, Nolan?”
“About what?”
“Dying. Death.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“When you think about it, you get paranoid. Then you’re slow when you should be fast. Punchy when you should be alert.”
“Is that what happened to my husband?”
“Maybe. Sometimes you can’t avoid it. Sometimes you get hit by a truck even when you look both ways. That’s the way it is. Life. A gamble.”
She smiled, rather bitterly, he thought. “Well, my man never was much of a gambler.”
“I’m sorry about Breen. I really am. He was a good
Her mouth quivered a little, and she said, “Yeah, well, I knew then. I knew that he loved me, in his way, that he wanted to marry me, but that he was getting in other girls’ pants every chance he could get and I had to strike back somehow. Not that I told him, or wanted him to find out, Christ no. But after that I could live with it better somehow, live with his running around on me. And what the hell, I liked you, Nolan. But you were hopeless. You were a goddamn wall no woman could hope to get behind and make something at all permanent with you. Maybe now there’d be a chance, but then? No way. And so we went for a ride in the country that time, and it was snowing, and it was something special to me. I never cheated on him again, did you know that? And when he cheated on me, when I knew he was or thought he was, I’d remember that time, hold it close to me like some precious goddamn stone, and . . . shit I’m going sentimental on you, Nolan. Can a tough guy like you take it? Jesus.”
“Mary. Do you think it could be the barmaid?”
“Do I what?”
“The killing. Could it have been somebody after the barmaid. A jealous husband. Jealous boyfriend.”
“Maybe. Maybe. I hadn’t thought of that but maybe. Or one of his other bitches, jealous of the new one. Are you saying you agree with me, Nolan? That you think something’s strange about his death?”
“Yeah, I agree. Or sort of agree. Coincidences bother me. I know they’re possible. I been caught up in them before. But I never believe in a coincidence till I look down its throat and up its ass. Then I believe in it. Not until. So. Could you give me a list of the people Breen was involved with, with his gambling?”
“Easily. We didn’t have any secrets where his gambling was concerned. Hell, I helped him handicap. I never caught the bug, but I was around the gambling scene too long not to be at least semi-involved.”
“Good. What about his girls?”
“In that case he was a little secretive. Mostly the girls working in the bar, I guess. They would stay on as help till they tired of him, or vice versa, but usually vice. He was not the best lay in the world, you know.”
Nolan smiled. “That’s not the way he used to see it.”
“Well, he wasn’t really in a position to know, if you know what I mean. Hey, Nolan, what are you going to do? Play detective? Find the killer? I didn’t know you read Mickey Spillane.”
“You want me to level with you, don’t you, Mary?”
“Of course I want you to level. Did you come clear from Iowa to bullshit me?”
He spread his hands. “Personally, I don’t give a damn who killed your husband. Matter of fact, he ran out on me one time. Justifiably, but I just mention it by way of showing I don’t owe him any posthumous favors. However. In this business, when somebody you worked with is killed, in circumstances that are even remotely suspicious, it doesn’t pay to ignore the matter. Your husband worked with me on a lot of jobs. Something out of one of those past jobs might have crawled out of the woodwork and killed him. Which affects me, obviously. So I can’t feel comfortable till I find out who was responsible for your husband’s killing. Plus, I admit I got some feelings for you. I figure maybe you would feel better if you knew what was really behind his death.”
“Do you ever think about it, Nolan?”
“About what?”
“Dying. Death.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“When you think about it, you get paranoid. Then you’re slow when you should be fast. Punchy when you should be alert.”
“Is that what happened to my husband?”
“Maybe. Sometimes you can’t avoid it. Sometimes you get hit by a truck even when you look both ways. That’s the way it is. Life. A gamble.”
She smiled, rather bitterly, he thought. “Well, my man never was much of a gambler.”
“I’m sorry about Breen. I really am. He was a good
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