The Memory of Eva Ryker Read Free

…”
    â€œâ€¦ Yes?” It was a Who-The-Hell-Are-You voice.
    â€œI came by your desk a few minutes ago.”
    â€œOh!” Alarm followed recognition. “Is anything wrong?”
    â€œNo, I don’t think so. I was supposed to meet Martha Klein here. Has she gone out?”
    â€œNo, Officer, she hasn’t checked out here, if that’s what you mean.”
    â€œOkay. If she comes by in the next few minutes, tell her I’m waiting in her room.”
    â€œYes, Officer, I certainly will.”
    To kill time, I began poking through drawers. No sign of cold cream, hair curlers, or any of the junk women collect wherever they spend the night.
    I opened the heavy closet door, revealing three smart but worn suits. A Samsonite pullman sat neatly beneath the racks. Hooked to the inside closet door was a matching woman’s dress carrier.
    I glanced at my watch. Nearly six. If there was any justice in the world, I’d be home right now. I lit a cigarette, sat in a rattan chair and waited.
    â€œSong of the Islands” mercifully quit. “This is radio KGMB.” The voice had the assurance of Jehovah. “Coming up now, we have the voice of Bing Crosby singing ‘Aloha Oe.’”
    Ukeleles and strings swooned. “ Proudly swept the rain cloud by the cliff …”
    My cigarette burned down like a fuse as I scowled at the radio. The sky was blackening beyond the window and the lone light from the bathroom cast dingy silhouettes slanting across the carpet.
    â€œ … as on it glided through the trees …”
    To hell with this. I went to the phone and dialed Headquarters.
    â€œCentral Dispatch. Sergeant Kroger speaking.”
    â€œThis is Hall, Car 48. Is Sergeant Wong there?”
    â€œHe just went home, Norman. What happened to you? Your radio break down again?”
    â€œNo, sir. I was supposed to pick up Martha Klein, but she’s not here. Did Sergeant Wong get his wires crossed?”
    â€œIt’s news to me. Galbraith’s been waiting for the last hour.”
    â€œWell, she didn’t check out at the front desk.” Casually, I looked around the room, then stopped still.
    â€œNorman?” the receiver whispered. “Are you there?”
    I ignored the voice. Something was wrong. A flicker of movement in the corner of my eye. Now it was gone. I turned back to the phone.
    â€œâ€¦ Uh, just a minute, sir. There’s something I want to check out.”
    â€œâ€¦ still following with grief the Liko …”
    I examined every corner for a second glimpse of what I’d seen. The room yawned at my efforts.
    Then I saw it. The dress carrier was swinging silently on its closet hook. Swinging where there was no breeze.
    â€œâ€¦ one fond embrace …”
    Reaching behind me, I dropped the receiver. The little voice clicked to silence. Only the radio played.
    â€œâ€¦ Thus sweet memories came back tome …”
    The carrier still moved. It looked bottom-heavy, like a half-full potato sack.
    â€œâ€¦ bringing first remembrance of the past …”
    Walking to the closet, I grappled over my head for the pull cord. My shoes slapped wetly on the floor and my nose picked up a seawater smell.
    â€œâ€¦ Dearest one, yes thou art mine own …”
    My fingers found the chain and yanked it.
    â€œâ€¦ From thee true love shall ne’er depart. …”
    The bulb swung metronome-fast over my head. Clothes hanger shadows shifted back and forth, covering, then revealing a rusty blood puddle beneath my feet. A fresh spot spattered red on shiny black shoe leather. Another. And another. The stream came from the dress carrier’s bottom.
    â€œâ€¦ Aloha oe …”
    I tore at the carrier’s zipper. The seam split in half.
    Blood splashed through the gap and over my face. It covered my eyes.
    â€œâ€¦ Aloha oe …”
    Fingers emerged from the bag and touched my shoulder. I