Free Dark Passage by David Goodis Page B

kept saying that. Do you still believe it?”
    “Of course. It was an accident. Nobody
killed her.”
    “All right, then. Do you want to help
me?”
    “Of course I want to help you. Anything,
Vince. Anything I can do. For Christ’s sake—”
    “Look, George, have there been any big
changes in your life since they put me away?”
    “I don’t know what you mean.”
    “I mean, you never used to have any
visitors. You were always alone up here. Is it still that
way?”
    “Yes. I lead a miserable life, Vince. You
know that. You know I have nobody. You were my only friend.” A
suggestion of tears appeared in Fellsinger’s eyes.
    Parry didn’t notice the tears. He said,
“I'm mighty glad nobody comes up here. That'll make it easy. And it
won't be more than a week. Do it for me, George. That's all I'm
asking. Just let me stay here for a week.”
    “Vince, you can stay here for a year, for
ten years. But that’s not the point. You said she gave you money.
That's half the battle already. With money you can travel. Here
you'll only run into the police. Maybe even now—”
    “I can’t travel with this face. It needs
to be changed. I'm going there tonight. Maybe the police will be
here when I get back. Maybe not. It's fifty-fifty.”
    Fellsinger took a key case from the back
pocket of his trousers. He unringed a key and handed it to Parry.
“It’s good for both doors,” he said. “I still think you're working
it wrong, Vince.”
    “Got anything to drink?”
    “Some rum. It’s awful stuff, but that's
all I can get these days.”
    “Rum. Anything.”
    Fellsinger went into the kitchen, came out
with a bottle of rum and two water glasses. He half filled both
glasses.
    They stood facing each other, gulping the
rum.
    “I still can’t believe it,” Fellsinger
said.
    “I was lucky,” Parry said. “I got breaks.
If I had planned it for a year it couldn’t have worked out any
better. The truck was right where I wanted it to be. The guards
were nowhere around. It was all luck.”
    “And that girl,” Fellsinger
said.
    Parry started to say something, then found
his lips were closed, found the words were crumbling up and
becoming nothing. He didn’t want to talk about her. He was sorry he
had told Fellsinger about her. He couldn't understand why he had
told Fellsinger everything, even her name and her address and even
the number of her apartment. He was very sorry he had done that but
he didn't know why he was sorry. He knew only that now and from now
on he didn't want to talk about her, he didn't want to think about
her.
    Fellsinger made himself horizontal on the
davenport. He finished the rum in his glass, got the glass half
filled again. Parry brought a chair toward the davenport and sat
down.
    “And Madge Rapf,” Fellsinger said. “You
sure that’s who it was?”
    “That’s who it was.”
    “All my life I’ve tried to keep from
hating people,” Fellsinger said. “That's one of the people I hate.
I remember once I was at your apartment with you and Gert, and
Madge walked in. I saw the way she was looking at you. I
    remember what I was thinking. That she was
out to get you and once she had you she’d rip you apart and throw
the pieces away. Then she'd go out and look for the pieces and put
them together and rip you apart again. That's Madge Rapt. And how
come she's connected with this Janney girl? What takes place
there?“
    Parry thought he had already told
Fellsinger what took place there. Wondering why he kept it back
now, he said, “I don’t know.”
    “Sure you don’t know?”
    “George, I’ve told you everything, I'm
depending on you now. I wouldn't keep anything from
you.”
    Fellsinger took a long gulp of rum. He
said, “I wish I could sleep with Madge Rapf.”
    “Are you out of your mind?”
    “You don’t get me,” Fellsinger said. “I
wish I could sleep with her provided I was sure she talked in her
sleep. I think she'd say the things I want her to say. I think
she'd admit Gert never made that dying statement. Jesus Christ, if
we could only prove that was a