Noir by Robert Coover Read Free Book Online

rocking unsteadily on its stem, all you could think to say was: This is one tough case, lady. Look what they did to me!
    What? That? she asked, head tipped toward the undies. Who did?
    You looked around for something to wear. All you could find was your hat so you put it on, perching it atop your turban, lit up a cigarette, dangling it sullenly in the corner of your mouth, and sat behind your desk, though sitting hurt. Even worse when, to show that things were cool in spite of appearances, you tried to put your feet up on the desk. Big mistake.
    Are you in pain, Mr. Noir?
    Just— ungh! —worrying about you, kid. You’re mixed up with some pretty rough company.
    I know that, Mr. Noir. It’s why I came to you. What have you found out? Have you been able to follow my husband’s business partner?
    Working on that. I’ve been checking into the insurance policy. Seems it might have been invalid if death was by suicide. Would have been important that he died, or seemed to die, by some other means.
    I didn’t even know he had an insurance policy, she said, worrying her pale fingers in her lap, her multifaceted diamond glinting like coded signals in the dim light leaking in through the windows, streaming with rain. Her fragrance was fresh and innocent, yet somehow dangerous. Seductive. When her head dropped a moment, you made a quick adjustment to your silken bonds. Better. But not much. Why do some guys like to wear these things? He never talked about business with me, she said. She heaved a sigh, her breasts rising and falling provocatively inside their black lace bodice. I miss him so.
    Though you couldn’t see her expression behind the veil, you could hear the sorrow in her voice. The fear. Genuine or faked? Who cares? Give the girl a break. Enjoy yourself. Tell me again how you met your husband.
    I was a poor girl, alone and friendless in the city, and he was—he advertised for a maid and housekeeper. He was good enough to hire me, though I had no references. I was very grateful.
    So to thank him you provided other services . . . ?
    What can you possibly mean, Mr. Noir? I of course did all that was asked of me to the best of my limited experience. And he was appreciative of my application and, being of a kind and generous nature, was always attentive to my needs.
    Yeah, sure. But, in a word, how did you get it on?
    Get it on? Oh, you mean. . . . How did we fall in love? You were watching her legs again. She knew you were watching her legs. She parted them slightly and they seemed almost to release a sigh from within their skirted shadows. There was more of you stretching Blanche’s panties now, but oddly you felt less uncomfortable. It happened one day when I was changing out of my work uniform and he passed by. The wind must have blown the door open behind me. I didn’t know he was there until I heard him breathing at my back. As he pressed against me I could feel him trembling with emotion, as I was trembling, too. It was all very innocent, but I was at a loss to know what to do. And he was such a handsome man, strong, manly. He could not conceivably have dressed as you are dressed, Mr. Noir.
    Too bad, he never knew what he missed. And where was the wife all this time?
    I think I told you. The poor woman was bedridden and did not have long to live.
    That’s how she was when you started undressing there?
    Working there? Yes, I think so. Or soon after. The dear man was distraught. He fell to weeping inconsolably on my breast.
    While standing, or supine?
    Mr. Noir, I do not understand the point of your questions. And would you please put both of your hands on top of the desk where I can watch them?

    IT WAS BLANCHE, LATER, WHO ASKED ALL THE SERIOUS questions. What you asked was: So, what are you doing tonight, sweetheart? We can talk more about all this over supper. But when you looked up, widow wasn’t there. She had an interesting way of coming and going. She’d left another roll of bills on the desk, but you had no