The Truth of the Matter Read Online Free Page B

blood rush to his face and he saw Gipp watching him from behind the thick glasses.
    Roebuck cleared his throat. “Either of you fellas ever get married?”
    “No,” Gipp said, not smiling, “neither of us.” He looked slowly away and raised his arm to glance at his wristwatch. “We’ve got that call coming,” he said.
    “Hey, that’s right,” Ingrahm answered. “Damn near forgot all about it.” He turned to Roebuck. “We’ve got a business call due in five minutes that we’d better take in our room.” There was apology in his voice.
    “Sure.” Roebuck drained his glass with finality.
    “You want to join us in our room for a drink or something?” Ingrahm asked.
    From the corner of his eye Roebuck saw Gipp shift uncomfortably. “Thanks, no,” he said, setting down his glass. “I have to be going anyway. Got an appointment up in north county with a little gal whose husband works nights.” He winked broadly as he stood.
    “It’s the same Roebuck.” Ingrahm laughed as he and Gipp stood in perfect unison, as if they’d heard a silent command.
    “Maybe we can get together later,” Roebuck said without enthusiasm. “You fellas got a car?” He didn’t think they would have a car, staying so near the airport, but Ingrahm nodded.
    “We rented one,” he said. He grinned. “Tax deductible. The thing is, though, that we have to leave tomorrow morning. That’s why we called you this evening.”
    “That’s too bad,” Roebuck said. He stood awkwardly, leaning with one hand on the back of his chair. “Well, next time you’re in town…call again.” He began to back away.
    “Sure,” Gipp said. “Take care.”
    Ingrahm waved lightly with his right hand. “Do it once for me.”
    “What?”
    “The little housewife in north county.” Ingrahm winked.
    “Oh, sure.” Roebuck smiled and turned. He felt their eyes on his back as he walked toward the door, felt their silent laughter rocking the lounge. He hoped the back of his neck wasn’t red, hoped they couldn’t see that.
    Outside, Roebuck sat in his car with the engine idling, watching the light rain drift downward onto the parking lot. The blinking neon sign shot glowing colors softly through the mist. Roebuck couldn’t make himself drive away as he sat breathing quickly, feeling the hate for Ingrahm fill him. It was Ingrahm who had brought his world down about him, Ingrahm with his cutting voice, his evil, making things seem worse than they really were. Roebuck shut his eyes tightly and tired to calm himself. Only once before had he experienced such hatred, and it frightened him as well as enraged him. He let the hatred boil darkly in him, boil over until it was released through his rapid breathing and his trembling hands.
    Then, for some reason, he opened his eyes.
    Ingrahm was there, standing in the parking lot just outside the lounge’s side door. He didn’t see Roebuck as he flicked his cigarette away and began walking across the lot toward another line of parked cars, apparently to get something out of one of them.
    He passed directly in front of Roebuck, and there was a sound, a grating, roaring sound in Roebuck’s ears. Instantly, in a somehow unrelated way, Roebuck knew that what he was hearing was the spinning of the Thunderbird’s rear tires in the wet gravel of the parking lot. Ingrahm turned curiously, and then the curiosity changed to surprise as the headlights flashed on, and he held an arm over his eyes. He grew larger and larger and he extended both hands, palms out, as if he could hold back the roaring tons of metal.
    Then he disappeared.
    There was no sound, no feeling of arrested motion. Ingrahm had simply disappeared before Roebuck’s eyes and the car was stopped a hundred feet from where it had been parked.
    In a daze, Roebuck put the car in reverse and backed around so that it was pointed toward the exit. He looked out the side window and saw Gipp, poised in the lounge doorway, the neon sign glinting redly from his