Jealous Woman by James M. Cain Read Free Book Online Page A

in his cab he asked if there was a little resentment around. “Romance, J. P. has to say goodbye.”
    “Say, who is the dame?”
    “A Mrs. Sperry, I believe her name is.”
    “Not Constance ?”
    “You know her?”
    “Boy, is that a twenty-minute egg!”
    “Well, Keyes is carrying it in his Easter basket.”
    “Ed, you don’t know how funny this is. Before she married this Englishman, there were at least six guys that thought they’d grab that fortune, but even they couldn’t take it. And now Keyes, the guy that can’t be fooled, is plunking a guitar under her window—say, that’s a real joke.”
    When I got back inside, Keyes had kind of forgotten to be a celebrity for a while, and there seemed to be something on his mind. After a while he said: “Ed, do you think it would be proper for me to call on Mrs. Sperry before I leave, just to say goodbye?”
    “Well, why not?”
    “You think it would embarrass her?”
    “Well, that all depends.”
    “On what?”
    “On what she’s told the husband.”
    “I don’t quite understand you, Ed.”
    “Well, on this earth we got all kinds. Some play around and figure they owe it to themselves on account of how short a time we have here anyhow, and they keep their mouths shut and it sounds wonderful but they’ve got a way of figuring what they owe themselves is nothing compared to what you owe them, so it’s not really quite as wonderful as it sounds. And then there’s others that play around, and they figure it’s right down sinful of them but they can’t help it on account of how wonderful you are, but you better watch them because they’ve got an unfortunate habit of getting remorse and telling friend husband all, just to square everything up and start over again, and I hear it works but going around to say goodbye depends mainly on the husband. Maybe he wants to shake hands, but on the other hand maybe he’s got a Colt automatic and just aching to use it. Personally, if you ask me, I’d kind of give her a ring and see how things stand before I came in range, like you might say.”
    He sat there with a spoonful of coffee halfway up to his mouth, staring at me like I must be crazy or something. “But, Ed, you don’t mean you think there’s anything between her and me to tell, do you?”
    “You mean you didn’t make passes?”
    “I wouldn’t have thought of it.”
    “Maybe you missed something.”
    “Do you mean to make insinuations about her?”
    “Hey, hey, hey, be your age.”
    “But Ed—about that woman?”
    Well, how do you tell a guy you think his lady friend would go for an insult right on the lipstick? “I was kidding you, Keyes. Just seeing if you could take a rib.”
    “I’m glad to know it, Ed.”
    But even with all that said between us, he still wanted to talk, and he opened up about how he thinks he got himself more emotionally involved with her than he had realized, and how he’d hate to leave town without going to see her, because he’s pretty sure she feels the same way. Then his face got red again, the way it had in the afternoon, and he kept saying over and over again she was a woman a man could love and not be ashamed of it, and then all of a sudden he was looking over my shoulder at something over near the door. I turned around, and Mrs. Sperry was just coming in with a short, stocky man, and she waved when she saw us. I gave Keyes kind of a kick on his shoe, so he wouldn’t look so glum. “It’s all right to be in love, but why advertise it?”
    “Is he her husband?”
    I had the captain do some sleuthing and he came back and said the gentleman was Mr. Richard Sperry. Keyes got glummer, then said: “Look at this.”
    It was the same old report from the fellow assigned to keep track of her, and he read it again, the description of the man that went into her room and didn’t come out: “‘Age, 30–35, height around six feet, weight around 160, hair black with some gray.’ Ed, that man’s job depends on getting it