Authors: George Harmon Coxe

Silent Are the Dead (27 page)

“I believe you,” Bishop said. “And thanks.”

“For what?”

“For putting it just that way.” Bishop had a crooked smile on his lips now and in his eyes there was a curious softness, a gentleness that seemed very young and did not go with his face. He watched Casey clap on his hat and said, “You understand things, Flash. You know I've got no regrets, that if I had to do it all over, I'd have a crack at it.”

“I guess you would,” Casey said, and went into the hall.

Bishop followed him. “What happens now doesn't matter,” he said. “Onlyâeither way I guess we won't be seeing each other any more. And if you don't mind too much, I'd like to shake hands before you go.”

Casey looked down at the hand and took it, feeling the hot, hard pressure of it. He didn't look up again. He started to say something but his throat was tight then, so he turned quickly and went along the hall, hearing the door close softly as he started down the stairs.

The night air felt cool and fresh against his hot face and he tried to project his thoughts a million miles away. But it was no good. He knew it wouldn't work. He wanted to go see Nancy Jamison, not to talk but just to sit awhile, for there was a desperate loneliness moving with him that he could not cast aside. But it was too late for that now, and so, because he did not want to fight the torment any more, he knew he might as well go home and get a little drunk, and go to bed, being sure to put his felt silencer in the telephone so that if a call should come about Jim Bishop he would not know of it until morning.

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This edition published in 2011 by
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