Dead Letter (Digger) by Warren Murphy Read Free Book Online Page B

now, what’s the point of taking tests? Face it, Julian, you’re immortal." He looked around his apartment and said, "You’re right. It is filthy." He got to his feet and walked to the windowsill, then carried the three dirty cups into the small kitchen. He came back into the room and moved his tennis racket off the couch and picked up the clothes that were on the couch, then said, "Ah, screw it," and dropped them on the floor in a corner.
    "I’ll get a cleaning woman. One with big tits. You know, Julian, Evvie and I used to make love on this couch. We could see the planes circling over the airport. One night, we were making it and we both fell off, on the floor, and without missing a beat she looked at me and she said, ‘Did the earth move for you, too?’ What am I going to do without her?"
    "Get her back," Digger said.
    "How? I don’t even know why she left."
    "Where is she?" Digger asked.
    "She’s staying at the Copley Arms Hotel. I know ’cause she told me she was using my credit card. To hell with her. I don’t want to think about her. Let’s go eat dinner and drink a lot. Should I round up some women?"
    "No thanks. I’ve seen your women. With the exception of Evvie, they couldn’t get arrested."
    "The hell with her," Buehler said. "I’m not even going to think about her."
    He said the same thing a dozen times at dinner, in a small seafood restaurant in nearby Faneuil Hall, and he succeeded while they were in a cocktail lounge later, of not thinking about her a lot of the time. The rest of the time he talked about her.
    "Listen," Digger said, trying to cheer him up. "She’ll be back. Who wants her? She’s old."
    "She’s thirty-seven," Buehler said.
    "She’s fat."
    "She weighs 114 pounds."
    "She’s ugly," Digger said.
    "She walks into a room and waiters drop trays, then go into the bathroom to play with themselves."
    "She’s got bad skin," Digger said.
    "She had a pimple once when she was twenty. It was on the sole of her foot. She brooded for a week."
    "She’s dumb."
    "She does the New York Times crossword puzzle in ink," Buehler said.
    "Exactly," Digger said.
    "What do you mean exactly?"
    "That’s why she left you, you schmuck. She’s too good for you and she knows it and you know it. So stop brooding about her. She’s never coming back. Why should she? Let’s hit on those two at the end of the bar."
    "I want her back," Buehler whined.
    "You do?"
    "Yes."
    "You sure?" Digger asked.
    "Yes."
    "Then go call her. Tell her to come home."
    Buehler thumped the bar. "Damn it, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll call her and tell her to come home. Give me a dime."
    Buehler padded off shakily to find a telephone booth while Digger sat quietly at the bar, feeling good about getting them back together, and thinking about his physical exam. He hated physicals. He hated getting stuck and probed and X-rayed and wired up, but he had started doing it because Buehler had pleaded with him to do it. The doctor had been so insistent that Digger had thought his practice was failing and he needed another paying patient desperately. But then Buehler wouldn’t take a fee for the exams and Digger realized that his college chum was just worrying about him.
    Buehler returned to the stool next to Digger, quietly picked up his glass, and drained it in a gulp.
    "Well? Was she home?" Digger asked.
    "No, she wasn’t fucking home. She was in that fucking hotel and she told me to call her in a year when I sober up."
    "What’d you tell her? What’d you say?"
    "I told her she was fat and dumb and ugly and nobody in the world would want her, except me, so she better get her ass home."
    Digger nodded. "That’s good. One way to a woman’s heart lies through her rage. You’ll have her eating out of your hand when she gets a chance to think about what you said."
    "You think so?" Buehler asked.
    "I guarantee it," Digger said. He made a mental note to call Evvie and try to get things patched up.
    They stayed until the cocktail lounge