Bring Back Her Body by Stuart Brock Read Free Book Online Page B

I play footsy with him every night.”
    “No,” Cain agreed. “Do you?”
    Lisa stalked into the kitchen. Grinning his evil grin, Cain looked around. The room was small but decorated to give the illusion of more space. He liked the wallpaper, the few prints on the walls, the small case of interesting-looking books. He was still liking it when he fell asleep.
    He awoke to find a tea cart piled high with sandwiches being wheeled up to him. He sniffed the fragrance of strong, fresh coffee and came wide awake. “I’m not really hungry,” Cain said.
    A little later he looked in surprise at the empty plate and at the empty coffee pot. Lisa laughed. “We’re both long people, Cain. It takes a lot to fill us up.”
    “Including my head,” Cain said. “Why didn’t I just listen to Munger tonight instead of trying to throw my weight around? Like he said, someday I’ll push him too far.”
    “You’re made that way, Cain. You’re a damned fool idealist.”
    “Not at all,” Cain said stiffly. “I’m a realist.”
    “It’s too late for semantic argument,” she said. “But, Cain, is Munger really so bad?”
    She made it sound much as though she hoped he would say no. He said, “Don’t tell me you’re in love with him?”
    “How could I be?”
    “Lots of women fall for men they don’t know. They get a mental picture. Maybe big, square, masculine guys of the tweedy type are the ones you go for?”
    She gave a harsh, abrupt laugh. “I only go for what I know, Cain. I’ve grown out of the hero-worship-from-a-distance stage. Maybe I like mine long and lean and bony.”
    “Now, look …”
    “I just asked a simple question. Shall we get back to it?”
    Cain knew when he was licked. He said, “I’d say that Munger’s most endearing trait is his resemblance to a mad cobra. Otherwise he isn’t nice at all.” He told her a little about Munger, the things he did for profit, the things he had done to people who bothered him. A lot of them sounded like the type of pleasure Toby Patton would go for.
    “You pick on the nicest people to mess up,” she observed.
    “Three of his friends,” Cain said, “if you count Toby. Although he didn’t even react when I told him Toby was in his coffin.” He lighted his pipe and leaned back, remembering. It made him feel fine to recall it. His anger hadn’t lessened because “Paula” was made of wax.
    Even Curtin had been a little disgusted after the opening of the coffin. But that hadn’t stopped him from trying to fight when Cain had obviously been intent on beating Toby into complete insensibility. Cain chuckled at the memory.
    “We managed to devastate that party,” he said. “I liked the way you turned that Smathers woman upside down in the bushes.”
    Cain doubted if anyone but Toby had been completely knocked out but certainly all were too drunk from liquor and exertion to be of much use. They had all finally lain where they had fallen or been knocked while Cain tucked Toby into the coffin with the wax image of Paula, locked the box, and threw the key into the underbrush.
    “What if Toby dies from lack of air, Cain?” Lisa asked.
    He shrugged indifferently. “It wasn’t a tightly made box. He can probably kick out the top. Besides, who gets excited when a piece of scum gets killed?” He yawned widely. “Anyway, someone was up and around.”
    Lisa nodded. As they were leaving, they had heard a man cry, “Ah, Hebe, the cupbearer to the Gods.” They had not turned back to see, but Cain suggested that one of the women had got a flask and was going about reviving the rest with it.
    Now, though, it didn’t really matter. Cain’s head drooped and his pipe slipped from his teeth. Lisa caught it deftly. “Come on, Cain, time to hit the sack.”
    He allowed himself to be steered into a bedroom. When she started peeling off his coat, he awoke long enough to protest. “Oh shut up,” she said. “Do you think you’re in any shape to go to that boat of yours? If