The Truth of the Matter Read Free

past?”
    “You didn’t say anything.”
    “You should have known better, after some of the things I’ve told you about myself.”
    “For Christ’s sake, Lou, they said they were in the army with you. The one even said he knew you in college.”
    “Ingrahm,” Roebuck said. “You didn’t even get his name right. He might not have even been Ingrahm. Did you think of that?”
    Alicia sighed. “No. I’m sorry, Lou.”
    “Sorry, your ass!”
    She sat looking at him, the anger whitening her face beneath the healthy tan.
    The telephone rang.
    Roebuck walked slowly over and answered it.
    “Lou?”
    Something stirred in the depths of Roebuck’s mind.
    “Lou Roebuck? This is Ingrahm, Lou. Bob Ingrahm.”
    “Well…how you doing, Bob?” Roebuck lapsed into his “telephone voice.” “My wife said you called earlier.”
    “I bet you were surprised, hey?”
    “You know I was.”
    “Benny’s with me. Benny Gipp. You remember him, don’t you?”
    “Sure I do,” Roebuck said. Was Ingrahm crazy? “How long you going to be in town?”
    “Have to leave tomorrow. Benny and I are partners in a construction supply business, and we have to get back to Little Rock. We’re here on business anyway, and we both shouldn’t have come.”
    There was a pause.
    “We went by where you work,” Ingrahm said, “but you weren’t there. We waited a while, then we had to leave!”
    Roebuck felt the blood rush hot to his face. So that was it! That’s how Havers had gotten all those ideas about him.
    “Lou?”
    “Yeah, I’m still here.”
    “We’re staying at the Crest…on Atkins Road.”
    “I know where it is.”
    “How about coming by tonight for a drink or two? We can meet you in the lounge. Old time’s sake and all that.”
    Roebuck’s grip on the receiver tightened. “Okay, Bob. About nine?”
    “Right. It’s been a while. Maybe you better wear a red carnation.”
    Roebuck hung up.
    “See.” Alicia smiled from across the room. “No harm done.”
    Things were happening quickly, quickly. “Shut up,” Roebuck said. He pressed his fingertips to his temples.
    “Don’t talk to me like that,” Alicia said in an even voice. “They were who they said they were. It didn’t matter what I told them.”
    “It might have.”
    “Listen, Lou!” Alicia was on her feet, moving toward him. “Don’t take your frustrations out on me!”
    “You could get me killed!” Roebuck almost shouted at her. “Don’t you understand that, you stupid bitch!”
    “Oh, Christ, Lou, I’m fed up to here! You and your bullshit—”
    He slapped her hard, high on the face across the cheekbone, before he even thought.
    She stood staring at him, unafraid, very pale except for the red mark across her cheek, her eyes very steady.
    Roebuck backed up a step.
    “I don’t hit women…you know I don’t.”
    Alicia might have smiled—or was she trying not to smile? “You just did, Lou.” She turned, walked into the bedroom and closed the door softly and deliberately. He heard the lock click.
    “I don’t hit women,” Roebuck repeated to himself in a low whisper. He stared at the blank expanse of closed door. “You go to hell!” he shouted suddenly. Then he remembered that the expensive apartment was practically soundproof. “To hell with you!”
    He spun on his heel in the soft carpet and went into the kitchen. The shaker-full of martinis was in the refrigerator. He poured himself a drink in a water glass from the cabinet above the sink.
    “To hell with her,” he said to himself as he leaned back against the breakfast bar. He finished the drink in three long swallows, picked up the shaker to pour another, then set it back down.
    As Roebuck was walking across the living room, toward the front door, he realized he still had the empty glass in his hand. He stood still for a moment, then in a magnificent flurry of rage hurled the glass at the closed bedroom door. Instead of shattering as he had imagined, it merely bounced off the wood