THE SENSE THAT IN THE SCENE DELIGHTS
13
"Heinzie Kreuter bagged something out here last week, though,
didn't he, Chief?"
The Chief nodded vaguely. But then he looked over at the
finder and, with surprising animation, he laughed aloud. "He sure
did," he said. "I was over there when he brought them in, I tell you?"
"No," Charlie said.
"These two girls," the Chief said, still looking at the finder.
"Out back there in the woods, playing with each other. Heinzie–
state trooper runs the pike-Heinzie brought 'em in. He booked 'em
with Gladys for unnatural and lascivious and this one of them, Leona
her name was, with a big horse face and a leather jacket on and
riding boots-she yells out, 'It is not, it is not. Oh my darling I
can't live without you' and a lot more crap like that. Well, she's
running on and finally Gladys just up and walks up to her and
gives her a good crack across the face with the back of her hand."
"My God," the man said. "My God."
"Blood running through her teeth, way she hit her . . . And
all
the time they were waiting there, they were writing these love
notes to each other."
"You see 'em, Chief?" Charlie asked.
The Chief ignored him. "Heinzie, that big boyo-he sneaked
right in on them and grabbed up the paper and they were crying
and shrieking around. He gave it to Gladys and Gladys gave it to
the Magistrate."
"What'd he say?" Charlie asked.
The Chief paused a moment; he looked again at the finder.
"Nothing," he said finally. "He didn't even look at it. He give
it back to them when they came up to the desk."
"Well," the man said, "I guess he knew they weren't there for
writing letters."
Charlie picked up the cards. "Hell, it's like everything else,"
he said. "It's a goddam disease."
He was about to go on when they heard someone calling outside.
"Game's over," Charlie said.
"Chief?" the thin voice called again from the nearby ridge.
The Chief rolled down his window and peered out into the
mist. "Down here, Doc, in the car," he answered in a loud voice.
"Got your meatwagon?"
