A Game for the Living by Patricia Highsmith Read Free Book Online

she has two fine men friends,” she went on, patting Theodore’s hand which he rested on the table, “isn’t that her business, too? If they call on her in the middle of the night, must you all smile like schoolboys? Just because all of you would perhaps have only one reason for calling on a woman in the middle of the night?”
    â€œMama,” Ignacia said gently.
    The portrait of the small boy named José, which Lelia had painted in luminous, melancholic blues and greens, looked down on it all with childlike dignity.
    â€œWhen Lelia was nineteen, she went with my husband and me on a great tour through North America. She has studied in New York. She is no little girl from the provinces. I myself was a concert pianist,” Josefina said, tossing her head and sitting up still straighter. “But I gave up my career to marry. Lelia did not give up her career. And for another thing,” she said, looking at the fat officer and then at Sauzas, “my husband has for years been giving her a stipend of four hundred pesos a month. She did not have to beg for her bread, I assure you. Or whore!”
    Sauzas acknowledged all this with a deep nod and made no comment. Coolly he turned to Ramón. “Ramón Otero, have you ever been in trouble before with the police?”
    Ramón raised his head slowly.
    Sauzas repeated the question.
    â€œYes,” Ramón said. “I was falsely charged and beaten nearly to death by the fine police of Chihuahua. I was sleeping by the roadside in a truck, and they came up and hauled me in for murder and robbery.” He glared with loathing at the fat police officer, and pulled his packet of Carmencitas—the cheap miniature cigarettes—out of his pocket.
    â€œWhen was this?” asked Sauzas.
    â€œFive years ago. Six.”
    â€œHow old are you?”
    â€œThirty.”
    â€œAnd you were found not guilty?”
    â€œThe guilty man was found a few days later. Otherwise they might have killed me. As it was—” He made an effort at a smile, but it was a grimace.
    â€œThey hit him with a metal bar,” Theodore said to Sauzas, “and he suffered a concussion. It has—” Theodore shrugged. “It has changed him.”
    â€œAha,” said Sauzas. “Has he ever been in a mental institution?”
    â€œNo,” said Theodore, “but he gets severe headaches sometimes.”
    â€œYou are now defending him, Señor Schiebelhut?”
    â€œNo, I am not defending him!” Theodore said, frowning.
    â€œAnd he has spells also of bad temper?”
    â€œYes,” Theodore said firmly.
    â€œAnd you think he got into a bad temper tonight and killed the woman?”
    â€œI did not kill her!” Ramón shouted. “All right, beat me to death! Help yourself! But I didn’t kill her!” He was half out of his chair.
    â€œAll right, Ramón! We are only here to find out the facts. Do you have a knife? A knife at home?”
    â€œI have several knives. All for my kitchen,” Ramón said.
    â€œYou never carry a knife?”
    â€œDo you think I’m a guttersnipe?”
    Suddenly everyone was talking at once.
    â€œYou were the last one here!” Sauzas was yelling. “Why shouldn’t we suspect you? Do you think we’re numbskulls?”
    â€œTry it! Go ahead!” Ramón yelled wildly.
    Sauzas threw up his hands and turned to Theodore. “Señor Schiebelhut, why did you come to Mexico?”
    â€œBecause I like Mexico very much.”
    â€œHow long were you in the United States? Did you become a citizen?”
    Theodore had already told Sauzas that he was born near Hamburg, that he had been taken by his parents to Switzerland when he was eleven, had received his schooling there and in Paris, and that he had come to the United States at the age of twenty-two. “I left before my citizenship papers came through in America,” Theodore said