Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 152, Nos. 5 & 6. Whole Nos. 926 & 927, November/December 2018
- Автор: Ловси Питер, Зельцерман Дэйв
- Год: 2018
- Язык: английский
- Год: Dell Magazines
- ISBN: 0013-6328
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 152, Nos. 5 & 6. Whole Nos. 926 & 927, November/December 2018». Краткое содержание книги:
And I hated her for it.
A deep, twisted kind of hate, the kind of hate that drove a man to do unspeakable things, the kind of hate...
I tightened my grip on the shovel. Blood rushed to my ears. And...
I swung.
Crack.
Sylvia collapsed like a rag doll. The leather pouch fell with her.
I sucked in a breath and waited for the regret, but I felt nothing.
I scrambled forward and reached for Hank’s letter. But stopped short. If the letter is real then Hank’s guilt becomes mine.
And I didn’t know if I could live with that.
I picked up the shovel and tossed it topside. I considered the leather bag and the fortune that may lie inside, but decided to leave it untouched. I started to climb the ladder and glanced back toward Hammett’s coffin. Light from my headlamp bobbed against Sylvia’s form crumpled inside — her eyes open, lifeless. I dropped back into the hole, pushed her eyes closed, straightened her body, and then shut the lid.
My standard is perfection.
I climbed back up the ladder, removed the stakes, and pushed everything into the hole, including the rest of Sylvia’s gear. I grabbed the shovel and started filling the grave.
Shush. Dump.
Shush. Dump.
Shush. Dump.
Some secrets needed to stay buried.
© 2018 by Stacy Woodson
Human Resources
by David Dean
Although he is the author of three novels, David Dean has primarily specialized in the short story over his nearly thirty years as a published writer. Since getting his start in EQMM’s Department of First Stories in 1990, he has produced some four dozen stories for this magazine and others for anthologies, winning an EQMM Readers Award and receiving nominations for virtually every other award in the genre.
The phone rang twelve times before it was answered.
“Yes!” the voice on the other end shouted. “What is it? Who is this?”
Stuart almost dropped the phone; the pen he had been twirling between his fingers flew across the small office. “Mr. Twinning?” he managed. “I... this... this is Stuart Carlson, human resources director for Calypso Marketing Technologies. Remember me?”
There was a long pause. Stuart could hear the man on the other end breathing hard — a steady, heavy exhalation through his nostrils... puff... puff... puff, like a steam engine at idle. After what seemed a very long time, he answered in a voice pitched higher than Stuart remembered it, “Yes... yes... I remember you.” It sounded as if he were in pain, or trying not to laugh.
“Is this a bad time to talk?” Stuart asked, hoping that it was. He had not wanted to hire Brad Twinning in the first place, a fat, red-headed man whose jokiness had reeked of desperation.
Again there was a long pause.
“Bad time...?” Twinning replied at last. Stuart thought he heard him chuckle, but couldn’t be sure. “What is it, Carlson? What do you want from me?”
“I don’t want anything,” Stuart managed, regretting the call even as his boss’s words rang in his ears — “Twinning is the one. He’ll do a good job for us, and I like him. We need some people around here that are likable. Call him, Stu.”
“Are you still interested in the position with us, Brad... or not? I’ll need an answer today, I’m afraid.” This wasn’t true, but he hoped it might help dissuade Twinning from accepting the job.
This time he did hear the other man chuckling.
“How long has it been?” Brad asked in return. “Six weeks... more...? That’s a long time, isn’t it, Stu? I wonder if you really know how long that is.”
After a few moments, Stuart realized that the man was actually waiting for an answer. “We’ve interviewed a lot of applicants for the position, Brad. I’m sorry if you were inconvenienced.” This wasn’t altogether true either — the interviewing process had ended four weeks before.
When Stuart discovered that all three of his top recommendations were being overlooked, he had found it difficult to cooperate with his boss’s wishes, forgetting to call Twinning before going on his vacation. As if in punishment, the time in the Bahamas had been a nightmare, two days lost to rain, his wife bored and indifferent, his teenage kids sullen and embarrassing.
His boss had been furious upon his return, hence the humiliating call today. “Do you want the job or not?” Stuart snapped.
This time there was no mistaking the laughter. “Let me check with the wife, Stu!” Brad roared. “Honey,” he shouted, his voice echoing down an unseen hallway, “it’s Calypso with a job offer! What do you think about that... ’bout time, right? I told ya and told ya they’d come through! What...?” he cried. “I can’t hear you! You’re gonna have to speak up, because I cannot hear you! No, I can’t, not a word!”
Stuart felt as if he were dreaming all this... having a nightmare.
Then Twinning began to howl like a dog, deep and heartfelt.
Snatching the phone away from his ear, Stuart disconnected, staring at it in his hand as if it might crawl up his arm. He let it slide off his sweaty palm onto his desktop, thinking that if it began to ring he might leap from his chair.
“Did you reach him?” Sonia Wycliffe, the company’s V.P. and number-one whip-cracker, asked.
Stuart turned with a start to find her in the doorway, arms folded; her long, lean figure slouched against the doorframe.
“Yes... I did...” he managed.
“Well...? What did he say?”
Stuart’s mouth felt dry, his lips chapped. “Well... he... he...”
Sonia straightened up, arms still folded across her crisp white button-down blouse, her grey skirt snug across her hips. “Stuart... did you make him the offer we discussed, or not?”
“I tried to,” he began, “but he didn’t... I mean...” He glanced up to find his boss staring hard at him, her green eyes taking on a smoldering look.
Would she believe him about the howling, Stuart wondered, or think he was making it up, stalling once again? Had he really heard it at all? “We got disconnected,” he blurted, “some kind of problem on his end.”
She took a step inside his office. “Did you call him back?”
“Yes,” Stuart answered. “I tried... several times. No luck.”
She continued to study his face. “You don’t look well,” she pronounced finally. “I hope you’re not coming down with something contagious. Why don’t you call it a day and go home.”
Stuart rose stiffly from his ergonomic chair. He didn’t, in fact, feel at all well now.
“And on your way home,” Sonia continued, “stop by Twinning’s house. It’s right on the way, if I remember the address from his file correctly.”
Stuart opened his mouth to object.
“Just do it, Stuart. No more fighting me on this, understand? It’s very important that you don’t.”
Picking up his jacket, he nodded and left the office without another word.
Stuart considered driving by Twinning’s house without stopping, telling Sonia that her pick for one of their choice sales slots had turned him down flat; had found employment elsewhere. But he knew that she would check, follow up on his visit.
Sliding his car along the curb, he parked across the street and wiped his palms on his trouser legs as he studied the house. He guessed the subdivision to have been built about sixty years before, and it was clear that quality workmanship had gone into the construction of the homes. After the birth of his first child Stuart had considered buying in this neighborhood, but Rita had been adamant about an open floor plan. She could not do without it, so they had bought in a newer neighborhood that entailed a much longer commute.