Get a Load of This

     The man turned to the serious-looking girl. “I like this place. They give you the bottle and let you get tight, fast or slow, just as you feel. There's no waiting to be served.”

     The serious-looking girl said: “That's fine, because I want to get tight very fast tonight.”

     Harry said: “Let's go. I can't talk to you here. Let's go back to the apartment.”

     She shook her head. “No, not tonight. I'm feeling nervy. We should only quarrel. Not tonight.”

     He hid his disappointment. “Well, let's go, anyway. I'll see you home.”

     He gave Manuel some money and she smiled at him. “Your drink's been a big success. Mr. Garner says you're a genius.”

     Manuel showed his surprise. He said good night rather stiffly. He felt somehow that she had insulted him.

     The two of them walked out into the bustle of the street. He noticed that she was just a little drunk; it gave him hope.

     “Let me come back with you,” he said, “I have a lot to say to you.”

     She shook her head. “Not tonight.” She sounded very final.

     He raised his hand to signal a cab.

     “No,” she said, “I'm much too tired. We'll walk.”

THE GENERAL DIES IN BED

     It all happened so quickly he hadn't any chance of making plans. They had come to him and offered him three hundred dollars to give Pedro de Babar the heat. Three hundred dollars! They were crazy! Well, he'd got them up to five hundred and there they stuck. When he found they wouldn't give any more, he agreed. He knew once he had given it to de Babar he'd have to get out of Cuba. That didn't worry him. He was sick of Cuba, anyway.

     In the afternoon he went up to de Babar's bungalow with the intention of having a look round. It was a nice place, fitting for a General of the Cuban War Department to live in.

     The big garden that surrounded the one-storied building flamed with colours. Palm trees bent graceful heads against the blue of the sky. The place was so nice that the boy was violently envious. He would have liked to have been a devastating god with powers to destroy by a wave of his hand.

     The heat of the afternoon sun had driven the guards to shelter. The boy could see no one as he made his way cautiously towards the bungalow. So he went on, until he came to a little path leading to the back of the building.

     He moved soundlessly, beads of sweat running down his yellow-white skin. He was not frightened for himself, only that he might make some mistake that would prevent him from killing the General. He reached the bungalow and began walking slowly along the wall, glancing into the windows.

     That was how it happened. He looked through the window and saw the woman and de Babar on the bed. He couldn't see very much of the woman. She stared up at the dirty white ceiling, her eyes very wide. He could see she was chewing her bottom lip, and every now and then she would toss her head from side to side on the pillow. As he stood watching, she suddenly shut her eyes and began to drum on the bed with her heels.

     He could only see the back of the General's head and his bull neck, creasing into three great rolls of fat. He could see the sweat running down behind the big fleshy ears, and the slow movement of the gross body.

     Without thinking, the boy pulled the blunt-nosed automatic from inside his coat. He did not hesitate. Perhaps such an opportunity would never come his way again. The General was helpless. There was no one to protect him, and he would have to take his chance of getting away.

     He hooked his fingers under the window and pushed it up. As it went up, it made a little grating noise. The General heard it. He moved his head languidly and looked over his shoulder.

     The boy smiled at him. He thought it was very, very funny to kill the General like this. He wondered if any other man had ever been killed doing what the General was doing. He leant a little way into the room and brought the automatic up.

     The General looked at the automatic. He remained very still. The blood congestion of his face gradually faded, leaving the pock-marked flesh a greenish white.

     The woman said urgently, “Go on—go on—why do you stop?”

     The General didn't say anything. He couldn't do anything. He just stared with hot intent eyes at the gun. He was in a hell of a jam.

     The woman opened her eyes. “What is it?” she said. Her voice was unsteady, as if she were out of breath. “What is it?” She looked across at the window.

     The boy smiled at her too. The shock of seeing him there with the gun was so great that the blood even went away from her lips. She looked as if she were going to die.

     The boy squeezed the trigger gently. He would have liked to delay the shooting longer, because these two did really look very ridiculous, but any moment the guards might come. The gun went off with a sharp crack just as the General began to move away from the woman. The heavy bullet smashed the side of his skull. He flopped on the woman, pinning her flat.