Trauma Page 14

  He had put his arms around her and kissed her and said, “You and me, we’re forever—do you know that? Till death us do fucking part.”

  Carefully, she lifted the picture down from the wall. Then she propped it up against the couch and unscrewed the metal eyes at the back. Carrying the picture wire, she went to the kitchen and took her gardening gloves out of the drawer, and put them on.

  Outside, on the patio, Ray was lying back on the sun lounger, his eyes closed, his music playing just as loud as before. Duke was reading the sports pages and starting on another beer.

  She slid open the patio door. Ray’s music was so deafening that neither of them looked up. She stepped out onto the patio and stood behind Duke’s sun lounger for almost half a minute, not moving, the picture wire held behind her back. Duke probably knew she was there, but he didn’t acknowledge her. He was sulking because she had discovered that he had been lying about the job at the Century Plaza.

  Bonnie thought: If you look up and smile at me, you’ll probably live. But all he did was turn the page of the sports section and take another swig from his can of beer.

  She was a strong woman. All that scrubbing, all that bed carrying, all that vacuuming. She whipped the picture wire over his head and around his neck, and she pulled it tight before he had the chance to get his fingers underneath it. He twisted and kicked and bounced himself up and down in an effort to get free, but Bonnie pulled tighter and tighter until the wire had disappeared into the flesh of his neck and blood was running down his shoulders.

  She kept the picture wire tight until Duke gave a small, convulsive shudder, and his head dropped sideways. All this time, Ray hadn’t opened his eyes once.

  She unwound the picture wire and walked around to Ray’s sun lounger. He was singing silently to himself and popping his fingers. She bent over him and kissed his forehead.

  Open your eyes, she thought. Look at me. See me for what I am. Then I will spare you. But Ray simply grinned and kept on silently singing and finger popping.

  Afterward, she went into the living room and phoned Esmeralda.

  Esmeralda said, “Everything’s arranged. Come downtown to see us at eight o’clock.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there.”

  “You don’t sound so good. Is everything okay?”

  “Sure. I can manage. I’ll see you later.”

  She looked out of the window, and she could still see Duke and Ray sprawled on their sun loungers.

  THE JIGSAW

  Bonnie woke up with a start. The first thing she did was reach out to feel if Duke was lying beside her, but he wasn’t. It was still early, 5:17 A.M., and the sky was the color of faded blue flowers.

  She got out of bed and went to the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror, her hair all wild, her eyes puffy. She scarcely recognized herself. She could have been one of those old women you see sleeping rough in Echo Park.

  That scene out on the patio, with Duke and Ray—that hadn’t really happened, had it? It couldn’t have. It had been a nightmare, that’s all. She couldn’t have garroted her own husband and her own son. As Juan Maderas had commented—if she had killed them, where were the bodies?

  All the same, she found it impossible to go back to sleep. She went into the kitchen and drank a big swig of freezing-cold orange juice. Then she stood by the window with her palate aching, staring out at the empty sun loungers. She remembered seeing Duke and Ray all sprawled out on them while she phoned Esmeralda. But had they been alive then, or were they already dead?

  She went into the living room. The reproduction of Elvis was still hanging in its usual place. She lifted it away from the wall. If she had removed the wire, then she had replaced it so that no one would ever know, including herself.

  She switched on the television and sat watching I Love Lucy reruns until it began to grow light outside.

  Shortly after 8:00 A.M., Ralph called.

  “Bonnie? Joyce Bach told me about Duke. You told me he left you.… I didn’t realize that he was actually, like, missing.”

  “I don’t know where he’s gone, Ralph. I simply don’t. And Ray, too. I had a nightmare last night that I murdered them.”

  “You sound terrible, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

  “I feel terrible, Ralph. I feel terrible.”

  “Look—I think I’ve been very unfair. I’ve been blaming all of my problems on you. Phil Cafagna’s a lecherous bastard, and in any case, businesswise, it was pretty stupid of me to put so many of my eggs into one basket.”

  “What does this mean, you’ve changed your mind?”

  “It means, I feel like I’ve let you down. Like, used you and then thrown you over. But it isn’t like that, Bonnie. I swear it. When I said I loved you, I meant it.”

  “Well, maybe it was all for the best.”

  “Listen, Bonnie, why don’t you meet me? We can talk.”

  “I’m not exactly one hundred percent today, Ralph.”

  “You’re always one hundred percent to me, Bonnie. Please. At least give me the chance to explain myself.”

  Bonnie looked at the chrysalis inside the screw-top jar, almost ready to transform itself into a butterfly.

  “Okay, then. Why don’t you come around here?”

  “You mean come to your home?”

  “Why not? It’s private, and the coffee’s good.”

  “All right. All right, then. I’ll see you at—what—twelve-fifteen?”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Bonnie put down the phone. She picked up the glass jar with the chrysalis and said, “What are you? What are you looking for? Souls? Why do we have to sacrifice the people we love the most? What do you get out of it?”

  But in a strange way, she knew the answer to that. God had asked Abraham to kill his only son as a test of his belief. Maybe Itzpapalotl was doing the same.

  Ralph Pours his Heart Out

  Before Ralph arrived, she went into the bedroom, drawing down the blinds and closing the shutters, so that it was almost completely dark. She turned the bed down and smoothed the bottom sheet, and then she placed the glass jar between the pillows and unscrewed the lid.

  “You need someplace out of the light—I know that.”

  She closed the bedroom door and went back into the kitchen. She put on a pot of coffee to perk, and she arranged some shortbread and coconut cookies on a plate. Duke had always hated coconut.

  She refreshed her makeup in front of the mirror and blew a kiss at Elvis. Almost at the same time, Ralph’s glossy blue car arrived outside, and Ralph stepped out.

  She dragged Duke off the sun lounger and into the house, his bare heels bumping on the carpet. Then she went back for Ray. She laid them side by side on the kitchen floor and closed and locked the sliding windows. Ray had a swollen, placid expression on his face, but Duke’s eyes were wide open and he looked furious.

  She went into the living room and unrolled the green vinyl sheeting over the carpet. It made a loud crackling noise as she crawled over it, making sure that it was well pinned down, underneath the chair legs.

  She could have chosen to sacrifice Duke and Ray in the kitchen—nice white wipe-clean surface. But even though glazed pottery tiles are impervious, the grouting between them isn’t, and even the minutest bloodstain could be found and tested for blood group and DNA.

  Now she dragged their bodies into the living room and laid them next to each other and wrestled them out of their clothes. She was good at undressing inert and unhelpful bodies; she had done it almost every night with Duke. Once they were both lying naked on the floor, she went back to the kitchen to choose a carving knife, a black-handled Sabatier with a ten-inch blade.

  “Bonnie?” asked Ralph. “Are you okay? I’ve said hello to you three times now, and you haven’t answered once.”

  She blinked at him. She was standing by the open door with a fixed smile on her face, not quite knowing how she had got there. “Ralph, hi.”

  “I feel really awkward about thi
s.”

  “Awkward? Why should you feel awkward?”

  “As always, I overreacted.”

  “It’s a difficult situation, Ralph. You and me both being married and all.”

  “Any news of Duke and Ray?”

  “Nothing. Come on in. I’ve got beer, 7-Up, milk if you want it.”

  Ralph came into the living room, glancing quickly around with a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment. “Nice picture,” he said, nodding toward Elvis.

  “It’s great, isn’t it? A friend of Duke’s painted it.”

  He sat down on the edge of the couch. He was wearing a putty-colored suit and a pink shirt and he was perspiring.

  “Want me to take your coat?” she asked him.

  “No, thanks. I’m okay.”

  “You look really uncomfortable. Let me take your coat.”

  “I’m fine, Bonnie, honestly. I can’t stay long. But I did want to square things between us.”

  “What’s to square? I know you know that I didn’t make a pass at Phil Cafagna.”

  “You do?”

  “You didn’t end our relationship because of Phil Cafagna. He canceled the order, for sure. But that was just temper. He needs Glamorex products just as much as Glamorex needs him. Where else is he going to find a lip gloss that wholesales for a dollar-twelve and retails for fifteen-ninety-nine? He’ll be back, if he hasn’t come back already.”

  Ralph said nothing, but took out a clean white handkerchief and dabbed his forehead.

  “You lost your nerve, Ralph, that’s all. I know that. It’s a big step, leaving your partner and setting up with somebody else, especially when you’re nearly forty and you’re probably going to lose your house and your fancy new automobile and half of your business, too. I understand, Ralph. I thought it was going to change my life forever, as a matter of fact, but then, I have the same kind of responsibilities as you, don’t I? Well, had … if Duke and Ray never come back.”

  “Where do you think they are, Bonnie?”

  “I don’t know, Ralph. I honestly don’t.”

  “It seems kind of strange, doesn’t it, that you can’t even remember them leaving?”

  “How do you know that?”

  “What?”

  “How do you know that I can’t remember them leaving?”

  “You told me. You told me yourself.”

  “I don’t remember telling you that.”

  “Does it matter? What matters is, what happened to them?”

  “I don’t know, Ralph. I surely don’t. Anyway, what are we talking about them for? I thought you came here to talk about us.’

  Ralph said, “I love you, Bonnie. You know that. But I’ve got too much to lose, and I’m too much of a coward to start all over.”

  “A coward, huh? I never would have had you down as a coward.”

  “I don’t have the strength to change my life the way that you did.”

  “What does that mean? I didn’t change my life.”

  “You—you know. You sorted out the Duke situation.”

  “I sorted out the Duke situation? I didn’t do anything. The Duke situation sorted itself out by walking out the front door.”

  “But you didn’t actually see him do that, did you?”

  Bonnie turned around on the couch and frowned at him. “What kind of a conversation is this, Ralph?”

  “I’m proud of you for dealing with it, that’s all.”

  “I didn’t do anything. I went to sleep in the evening, and when I woke up in the morning he was gone.”

  “Bonnie—”

  She pressed an orange-polished fingertip to his lips. “You don’t have to say anything, Ralph. You don’t have to say anything at all, except ‘I love you.’ You’re right—my life is changed now. I’m single. I’m alone. I don’t have anybody. I’ve been thinking about this … wondering what I’d say if you called me. And I knew you’d call me. But I don’t have what it takes to break up a marriage, do I? That’s what you wanted to say. Well, I don’t mind that. I can live with that, so long as we go on seeing each other. You can stay married to your empty suitcase, and you can keep your house and your car and all of your investments. I’ll stay here alone. So long as we can meet and make love whenever you have the time, and so long as I know that it’s me you really want, and not Vanessa, then I can live with that situation, and be happy with it.”

  Ralph stared at her. “Are you serious?”

  “Do I sound like I’m joking?”

  “I don’t know what to say, Bonnie. I honestly don’t.”

  She kissed him on the lips. “Why don’t you say nothing at all? Why don’t you come to bed with me, and show me that everything’s going to work out fine?”

  Ralph was sweating so much that he had to wipe his forehead with his sleeve. “Bonnie … your husband’s missing.… He could be dead.”

  “What do you care? What do I care? He was lazy and violent and bigoted and drunk, and our son was growing up the same way.”

  “That wasn’t any reason to kill him, though, was it?”

  Bonnie sat up straight. “What’s the matter with you, Ralph?”

  “I just said that wasn’t any reason to kill him.”

  Bonnie offered her hand. “Come into the bedroom, Ralph. Let’s forget about Duke. Let’s start thinking about us.”

  “I—uh—I don’t have the time.”

  “You don’t have the time? Of course you have the time.”

  She took hold of both his hands and pulled him up off the couch. Then she led him across the living room to the bedroom door.

  “Bonnie—”

  “I want to show you something, Ralph. I want to show you something really amazing. Are you ready for this?”

  “Listen, Bonnie, I have a critical lunch appointment. I only came over to—”

  Bonnie squeezed his hand tightly, so that he couldn’t break free. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him, and smiled at him. “Come and see what’s in here.”

  She turned the knob and opened the door. Inside the bedroom it was almost totally dark. Bonnie kept on smiling, but Ralph hesitated and tried to tug his hand away.

  “What’s that noise?” he asked her.

  Bonnie listened. Yes, she could hear it, too. A papery rustling noise, then a very soft, high-pitched chittering sound. Then a scraping, like knife blades being drawn across each other.

  “Come and take a look,” Bonnie insisted.

  “I don’t think so. What is it? There’s something in there, isn’t there? What is it?”

  “Come see for yourself.”

  There was another scraping sound, and then a loud, hurried flutter, like a large moth beating desperately against a paper lampshade. That was when Ralph lost it.

  “Get me out of here!” he screamed. “For Christ’s sake, you guys, get me out of here!”

  Bonnie slammed the bedroom door shut. “Who are you talking to?” she demanded. “Who are you talking to, Ralph? What guys?”

  Ralph tried to struggle away from her, but Bonnie yanked his coat off his shoulders, and there they were: a wire and a microphone.

  “You’re wired,” she said, in utter disgust. “You said you loved me and you’re wired!”

  A second later, the front door burst open and Dan Munoz came in, followed by Detective Mesic and four uniformed police officers. Ralph pulled away from Bonnie and retreated to the other side of the room, looking miserable and bruised. Dan came up to Bonnie and gave her a regretful smile.

  “You want to tell me what this is all about?” Bonnie asked him, still trembling with anger. “That man was supposed to be my lover.”

  “I know,” said Dan, gently. “That was why he was the best choice.”

  “The best choice for what? To get me to incriminate myself for a crime that hasn’t even been committed yet?”

  “Oh, it’s been committed all right. That’s why we’re here. I have to admit that I was hoping for a taped confession, but there’s plenty of circumstantial.”

/>   “Like what? A knife that’s cleaner than you think it ought to be? Do you want to indict me for having a spotless toilet as well?”

  “We’ve found the bodies,” said Dan.

  Bonnie went utterly cold. “You’ve found them? Duke and Ray? Both of them?”

  Dan took hold of her elbow. “You’ve got a strong stomach. Come and take a look. Mesic—check the bedroom.”

  “Where are they? How did they die?”

  “Come on, we’ll take you there. You can see for yourself.”

  Detective Mesic opened the bedroom door. “Pretty dark in here. Hold on, I’ll open the shutters.”

  He opened the shutters and let up the blinds, and the bedroom was flooded with sunlight. Mesic opened the closets and banged them shut again and tugged out two or three dressing-table drawers. “Nothing here, sir.”

  Ralph gave Bonnie the strangest look, but he didn’t say anything.

  Dan ushered her toward the door.

  Duke and Ray Show Up

  On the southeastern side of the Riverside waste facility, in the middle of a stinking mountain range of domestic garbage, they came across four patrol cars, two medical examiner’s station wagons and an ambulance, all parked neatly in line, as if they were attending a sporting event. Dan pulled up alongside them.

  “You found them here?” asked Bonnie.

  “We found them here because we were looking for them here. We also had a pretty good idea of exactly when they were dumped.”

  He opened the car door for her, and together they walked across flattened cereal packets, split-open diapers, compressed cans of Green Giant sweet corn. The midday smog was made even worse by the rancid smoke that leaked out of burning piles of rubbish. Detective Mesic started to cough.

  There was no real need for words. Dan took Bonnie’s elbow and steered her toward the front of the little crowd of police officers and medical examiners and photographers, and there they were. Duke and Ray, side by side, like gunned-down bank robbers from the Old West propped up in their coffins.

  They weren’t lying in coffins, however. They were lying in ripped-open, heavily bloodstained mattresses. The mattresses from George Keighley’s house, on which David Hinsey and Maria Carranza had died. They were both naked, both immensely bloated, and both teeming with maggots. Their chests had been cut wide open, and Duke had been emasculated. Between his legs he wore a codpiece of glittering blowflies.