Dark Passage (28 page)

He walked out of the hotel and kept
walking until he found a two-by-four bus depot. He went in and a
lot of people in low-priced clothes were sitting on a bench facing
a splintered counter. He went up to the counter and a young man
behind the counter asked him where he wanted to go and he said
Patavilca and the young man said what was that again and he said
Arizona and the young man asked where in Arizona and he said
Maricopa.

The young man picked up a route map and
asked him if he was going alone and he nodded. Then he had his
ticket and he found a place on the bench and sat down to wait. It
was very warm and sticky in there. He began to think of
Arbogast.

They would never know who had done away
with Arbogast. They wouldn’t even take the trouble to attempt
finding out. They had Arbogast listed as a cheap crook and it would
be a convenience to cross him off the list. All very quick and
automatic, easy to picture. Someone would come across the body and
police would identify the body and bury it and say good riddance.
But the picture was upside down.

The whole thing was upside down. And the
world was spinning in the wrong direction. They had it complete
diagnosed. There wasn’t a segment of doubt in their minds. This man
had killed his wife. And then he had gone ahead and killed his best
friend. And then while he was at it he had sought out the woman who
had testified against him and he had pushed her through a
window.

His lips were building a dim smile. The
taxi driver was coming into his mind, along with Coley. He wondered
if they were still speaking to each other. Probably, because they
couldn’t discuss their awful mistake with anyone else. The taxi
driver would say it didn't pay to be nice to people. Coley would
say there was nothing they could do about it and they might just as
well forget about it. And they would never forget about it. They
would always feel certain they had helped a killer to kill two more
people. He felt sorry for them. He wished there was a way he could
straighten them out on that.

Someone said, “Do these buses ever run on
schedule?”

A skinny woman with two children on her
lap said, “What do they care? You think they’re worried about
us?”

“That’s the way it goes.” the someone was
a tall man wearing a straw hat. He had a thin mouth that flapped
down at the corners. His tie was knotted a good two inches below
the collar. “Yes,” he said, working his mouth as if there was
something sour inside, “it's just one big battle royal all the way
through. Nobody gives a hang about the other fellow.”

“It’s so hot in here,” the woman said. The
smaller child started to slip away from her lap and she pulled him
back and said, “Sit still.”

The man sighed. He took off the straw hat,
scratched the top of a bald head. “So,” he said, gazing at the
wall, “that’s the way it goes.”

“Sometimes,” the woman said, “I get tired.
I just get sick and tired of everything. Nothing to look forward
to.”

The man gestured toward the children. “You
got them kids,” he said. ” That’s something. Look at me. I got
nobody.”

“These are my sister’s kids,” the woman
said. “She's been sick and I been caring for them. Now she's all
better and I'm taking them back.”

“Where?”

“Tucson. Then I’ll be coming back here and
I'll be alone again. I tell you it aint bearable when a person has
nothing to look forward to.”

“You mean these aint your
kids?”

“I wish they were. Look at them. They’re
fine little boys.”

The man was looking at the woman. The man
handled his tie and brought the knot up to the collar. The knot
glowed like a lamp far down the dark road.

Parry left the bench and walked out of the
bus depot. He was walking fast. He went into a drugstore on the
corner and picked up a telephone book. He found the number he
wanted and went into the booth and put a nickel in the slot. He
dialed and waited while the other phone rang once and then twice
and then she said hello.

He said, “It’s Allan.”

“Where are you? Are you all
right?”

“Yes. What are you doing?”

“Just sitting here.”

“All right. Listen. It was Madge. But I
can’t use it. I went up there for a showdown and she did away with
herself. Went through the window. You'll read all about it in the
afternoon edition. You'll read I pushed her out. I just want you to
know I didn't push her out.”

“That’s not why you called. There's
something else you want me to know.”

He grinned while tears arrived. He said,
“It’s nice when you have something to look forward to. Get yourself
a map of South America. In Peru there's a little town on the coast.
Patavilca. Say it. Tell me where it is.”

“Patavilca. In Peru.”

“Good. Now listen. I won’t write. There
can't be any connection whatsoever. And we've got to wait. We've
got to give it plenty of time. Maybe they'll get a lead on you and
they'll keep an eye on you for a while. Meanwhile if I manage to
make it down there I'll be waiting for you. And if you see your way
clear—listen to all these ifs.”

“We’ll skip the ifs,” she said. “I get the
idea and that's all I require. The general idea. Now hang up on me.
Just like that—hang up.”

He hung up. He hurried back to the depot
and saw the bus gliding into the parking space alongside the
waiting room. The passengers formed a jagged line and going into
the bus they moved hungrily toward empty seats. Parry found a seat
in the rear of the bus and gazing frontward he saw the man in the
straw hat sitting next to the skinny woman and the two children sat
together across the aisle. The driver came hopping into the bus and
closed the door. A few people on the outside were waving good-by.
The driver started the motor and then he faced the passengers and
he said, “All set?”