An Independent Woman Read Online Free PDF Page B

else did you forget to show me?”
    â€œNothing else. As a matter of fact, I haven’t thought about the pearls for months.”
    â€œI don’t know shit about pearls.”
    â€œSuppose you stop trying to talk like a thug,” Barbara said softly. “Why don’t you take the pearls and the other stuff and go—and leave me the ring, please. Suppose there’s an alarm somewhere in the house?”
    â€œThere isn’t. I looked around downstairs. And the fog’s as thick as glue. Nobody’s coming.”
    â€œThe pearls are valuable, believe me. What college did you go to?”
    He was taken aback, off guard; she could see his eyes narrowing through the holes in his mask. “You don’t want to know.”
    â€œBut I do.”
    â€œWhy? So you can call the cops the moment I leave and tell them to look up every nigger that graduated from—oh, shit, lady, keep the goddamn ring!” He stuffed the jewelry into his pockets and said, “Stand up and turn around.”
    â€œAre you going to tie me up? It’s not necessary. I’m not going to call the police.”
    â€œSure.” He walked around the bed and tore the telephone cord out of the wall and crushed the connecting tab under his foot.
    As he turned to the door, Barbara said, “One question, please. Why?”
    â€œWhy I’m a thief? All right, lady. I’m a civil engineer. For a year after I graduated, I washed dishes and cleaned toilets. This is easier. Four years of engineering training, and I can pick locks and neutralize alarm systems. Most crooks have the brains of a maggot, so the competition’s not heavy. I knew you were alone because I know the story of you and your father. Who doesn’t in this town?… Don’t go outside and start screaming. The fog’s as thick as shit, and maybe you’ll meet up with one of the bad guys.”
    â€œI don’t scream,” Barbara said. “How did you get in?”
    â€œI told you, I picked the lock. You don’t impress me, lady. You liberal do-gooders give me a pain in the ass. It’s burning out there, and you sit here with your fuckin’ jewels. So thank you for nothing.”
    Then he left, and a few moments later she heard the downstairs door slam. She was dog-weary and a little sick inside, her pulse hammering. Thank God he had not tied her up! She thought of going downstairs and seeing whether he had disabled all of her telephones, but then she decided that it didn’t matter and she truly didn’t care. All she desired right now was to get into bed, turn off the lights, and pull the covers up to her chin. Anything else could wait until tomorrow.
    S HE WAS TOO TIRED TO SLEEP , too tired to let go of her churning thoughts. Was she sane, or was she acting out the last thing he had said—“It’s burning, out there and you sit here with your fuckin’ jewels”? He had walked off with the money and at least a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of jewelry. Did she care or didn’t she care? Long ago, half a century ago, she had taken an inheritance of fourteen million dollars and turned it into a trust, coddling herself with the virtue of what is right and what is wrong. Her grandfather had died, and the fourteen million was stuck in her grandfather’s bank, left to her in his will.
    Why am I thinking of that? I am an old woman of seventy, and I have just been robbed by a black civil engineer, and I am hiding under a comforter. Who was it that said, “Successful and fortunate crime is called virtue”? Was it Seneca? Who was Seneca? I’ve forgotten that, too … I want to sleep and forget that this ever happened .
    â€œBut I have the ring,” she said, almost in a whimper.
    She would not think about the robbery anymore. But she did think about it; she lived it through again and again. She had experienced a great deal, but she had never been robbed before.