discovered
exactly--nothing. All his landlady could tell me was that he was an
American who had come to this climate for his health, and that he slept
late mornings. I was licked and I knew it. If I had been a pup, I would
have fitted my tail neatly between my legs and made for home. But I
wasn't a pup, so I headed straight for Ria's flat to face the music.

* * * * *

They were waiting for me, she and Tod. When I saw her, I wished I were
dead.

She lay in Tod's arms, her body a mere whisper of a body. White and cold
she was, like frozen milk on a cold winter's day. They were both dead.

You know how it is when at a wake someone views the deceased and says
kindly, "She's beautiful," and "she" isn't beautiful at all; just a
made-up, lifeless handful of clay. Dead as dead, and frightening. Well,
it wasn't that way this time. Their fair skins were faintly pink-tinted
and their blonde heads, hers ashen and his a reddish cast, gleamed
brightly. And they sat so close in the sofa before the fire, his head
resting in the hollow of her throat. They looked--peaceful; no line
marred their faces. I almost fancied I saw them breathe. And on her
third finger, left hand, was the ring--a thin, platinum band. He had
won, and in winning somehow he had lost. How they had died and why they
found each other and death at the same time, I would probably never
know. I only knew one thing: I had to get away from there--quickly. I
almost ran the distance to my flat. Stumbled into the place and poured a
triple Scotch which I could scarcely hold. The Scotch seared my throat
and tasted bitter; someone must have poured salt in it. Then I realized
that it was tears--my tears. I, Bill Morris, who hadn't cried since my
fifth birthday--I was sobbing like a baby.

I didn't call the police. That would mean I would have to go back and
watch them cover that lovely body, carry it away and submit it to untold
indignities in order to ascertain the cause of death. The cleaning girl
would find them in the morning and would notify the police.

But it wasn't so simple as that. In the morning I found I couldn't shake
off the guilt which possessed me. Even two bottles of Scotch hadn't
helped me to forget. I was dead drunk and cold sober at the same time.

I phoned Ria's landlady and told her I had failed to reach the Hunters
by phone, that I was sure something was amiss. Would she please go to
their flat and see if anything was