Taste For Murder Essay Research Paper A — страница 2

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Mr. Davis. Helen lft on Thursday to spend a week wioth her sister.” I popped a piece of gum into my mouth and chewed. ” I have no regrets about dying. I think I’m quite even with the world and the people in it.” He tilted his head slightly, not understanding. “It’s happened three times,” I said. “Three times. Before Helen there was Beatrice, and before Beatrice there was Dorothy.” He smiled suddenly. “Are you trying to waste time? That will not do any actual good, Mr. Davis. I have locked the outer doors to the corridor. Should anyone enter before one o’ clock — which I doubt– he or she cannot enter. If he or she is persistent and knocks, I will merely shoot you and leave by the back way.” My fingertips left wet marks on the desk top.” Love and hate

are close, Chandler. Especially with me. When I love or hate I do it itensely. I loved Dorothy and I was certain that she loved me. We would be married. I had planned upon it. Let me put it this way, I expected it. But at the last moment, she told me that she didn’t love me. That she never had.” Chandler smiled and bit into the sandwich. I listened for a moment to the street traffic outside. “I couldn’t have her , but no one else could either.” I looked at Chandler. ” I KILLED HER.” He blinked and and stared at me for a moment. “Why are you telling me this?” “What difference does it make now?” I said. “I killed her , but that wasn’t enough . Do you understand, Chandler? It wasn’t enough. I hated her. Hated her.” I chewed on my gum vigorously and

spoke. ” I bought a knife and a hacksaw. And when I was through cutting up the pieces, I weighed the bag with stones and I dropped it into the river.” Chandler’s face had paled. I glared at the gum in the ashtray. “And two years later I met Beatrice. She was married, but we went out together. For six months. I thought that sheloved me as I loved her. But when I asked her to divorce her husband and come with me she laughed. She laughed. Chandler had backed away a step. I could feel the perspiration on my face. “This time the hacksaw and the knife weren’t enough. Oh no, that wouldn’t satisfy me.” I leaned forward. “It was night when I took the bag to the animals. Moonlight. And I watched as they gowled and tore and waited at the bars for more.” Chandler’s eyes

were wide. I got up slowly. I touched the sanwich he had left on my desk and lifted up the slice of bread. Then I smiled. “Porked casing come packed in salt, Chandler. Did you know that? In a little round carton. Fifty feet of casing for ten dollars.” I put the slice of bread back in place. “Did you know that sausage stuffers cost thirty-five dollars?” I stared past him and gave an erie smile, “Firts you bone the meat and then cut it into convenient-sized pieces. The lean, the fat, the grislte.” I met his eyes. “Your wife would not leave you, Chandler. She had been toying with me. I loved her and I hated her. More than I ever hated anyone in this world. And I remembered the cats and how they had enjoyed…..” I looked into Chandler’s horror-filled eyes. “Where

do you think Helen really is now?” And I extended the half-eaten sandwich toward him. After the funeral, I helped helped Helen back into the car. When we were alone, she turned to me. ” I’ m positive Henry didn’t know a thing about us. I just can’t understand why he would kill himself, and in your office.” I drove out of the cemetery gate and smiled. ” I don’t know. Maybe it was something he ate.”