Magician's Wife by James M. Cain Read Free Book Online

she?”
    â€œYeah, as you’ve said quite a few times.”
    â€œAnd—I want her happy. Isn’t that enough?”
    â€œWait a minute. Did Sally ask you to come here?”
    â€œNo! No, Mr. Lockwood—she hasn’t said one word about you to me! And you mustn’t divulge to her that I came here tonight. You’ll protect me, won’t you?”
    â€œThen, I will. Now, what’s the rest?”
    â€œThe—rest?”
    â€œ What the hell did you come about? ”
    He snapped it impatiently, then plowed on fast, to say what a queer thing it was for a mother to pay such a call, “out of the blue—with no more to go on than a name from Information, a gumshoe job by her store and—that’s all. Talk about not matching up, this is just plain queer—unless there’s more to it. So there is more to it. So why don’t you say, Mrs. Simone?”
    â€œMr. Lockwood, there’s nothing more to it!”
    â€œThen O.K., let’s have the soft crabs.”
    â€œI tell you, I’m Sally’s mother.”
    â€œAnd I tell you, Sally and I are through. Maybe you’re her mother, but you’re good-looking, I like you and—so let’s get at the crabs.”
    â€œNo! No!”
    â€œWhy no in that tone of voice?”
    â€œWell, Mr. Lockwood, perhaps I should have said more. I haven’t quite made myself clear. I not only came to egg it on, but to egg it on now , Mr. Lockwood. Sally’s been—marking time, as she calls it, but why should she, after all? It only puts things off. If she breaks up her marriage now, it’s something that had to come. And if it helps, that you’ve appeared on the scene then, then that could be a way out. The thing would be done and—at last would be over. Now, does that help, Mr. Lockwood?”
    He didn’t answer at once, but sat looking at her, and then at last said quite slowly: “So what you’re afraid of, what you’re terrified of, wouldn’t happen, would it? ”
    â€œI—don’t know what you mean.”
    â€œYes, you do.”
    â€œI don’t! I swear I don’t! I—”
    â€œWon’t admit it, and I don’t expect you to. You’ve made things clear just the same, and I get it at last, why you came. And all I can say is, I like you better and better.”
    â€œAnd—I like you, Mr. Lockwood.”
    â€œWhat’s your name, Mrs. Simone? Your first name.”
    â€œGrace.”
    â€œMine’s Clay.”
    â€œYes, I know, and—”
    â€œGrace, when Sally left last night, we didn’t say good-by, and she may not know that that’s what it was. Just the same, I won’t see her again. But to let you get things straight, I didn’t bring her here just for a few evenings’ fun. The very first night, and last night too once again, I put it on the line—asked her to do what you want: make the break now, leave that guy, go to Reno and have it done. I even begged her to stay here with me. Her answer was I was nutty—that to do what I wanted she’d have to give up that dough, what she thinks she’ll get of the fortune that Mr. El will leave, what she’ll get and what her boy will get. But that wasn’t all, Grace. It showed through, like the blue on a corpse’s fingernails, what she’s hoping for. What she means to do, perhaps. If she gets help—of the kind she thinks I can give. I won’t! Get that straight, Grace. I won’t be her patsy.”
    â€œI haven’t the faintest notion—”
    â€œWhat I’m talking about. That’s O.K.”
    â€œBut if you took her now—? ”
    â€œI told you: I tried it. We’re past that.”
    â€œBut, Clay, you can’t give up that easy!”
    â€œWhy can’t I?”
    â€œYou’re in love with her, that’s why.”
    â€œWhat makes you think I am?”
    â€œClay, a woman