The Truth of the Matter Read Online Free PDF Page A

glasses. His heart pounding against his ribs, Roebuck stepped down on the accelerator. For a horrible instant the car sat motionless while the wheels spun, hurling pebbles against the insides of the fenders. Roebuck got an impression in the rear view mirror of Gipp running, of Ingrahm lying sprawled on his back, and as the tires dug deep enough for traction and the car shot way, Roebuck thought that through the mist he saw Ingrahm raise one leg slowly, almost lazily, and then lower it.
    Roebuck turned off Atkins Road and made himself slow to the speed limit. He was trembling, his hands, his feet, his arms, even the flesh of his face. What now? what now? what now? he asked himself over and over in time with his racing heart.
    It was a long time before he stopped trembling, and though it was warm outside he turned on the car heater. He hadn’t meant to run Ingrahm down, not really. Why, he’d hardly seen him in the darkness. Anyway, the man wasn’t dead, only hurt, only hurt. Didn’t he move? Hadn’t Roebuck seen him raise his leg in the rear view mirror? Maybe the wheels hadn’t even touched him.
    Roebuck felt a wave of relief at the thought that Ingrahm might not be hurt badly at all. Still, he was in trouble. He had run a man down and then left the scene of the…accident. Did it matter that much? Didn’t Roebuck want to leave town anyway? He would run, tonight, now, and eventually it would be forgotten. There would be a tiny piece on page five of the paper, that’s all—if it even made the papers.
    Money was the question. Where could he get the money to run? He had only fifty dollars in his wallet, and he couldn’t go back to the apartment. The police might even be there, making their routine inquiries. Then he remembered that he still had a key to the office of Havers Advertising, and that over two hundred dollars “emergency money” was kept in a box in Havers’ secretary’s desk. Roebuck turned toward the highway that led downtown, feeling better now that he had a plan of action. He knew that Havers might still be in his office, working late as he often did, but he chose not even to consider that possibility. Right now, to Roebuck, fifty-fifty chances seemed safe enough.

4
    The woman sat straight up in bed. The white sheet hung for a moment, then slipped down to reveal her bare breasts. Through sleep-filled eyes she saw Roebuck sipping his coffee from a paper cup, a half-eaten donut in his hand. Instinctively, but without a trace of embarrassment, she pulled the sheet back up and clutched it near her throat.
    “What time is it?”
    “Seven or so.” Roebuck watched her as he washed down a mouthful of donut with his coffee.
    “I better get up, I guess.”
    Roebuck nodded.
    The woman turned and sat on the edge of the mattress, still clutching the sheet. She was facing away from Roebuck, and he could see her partially exposed round buttocks spreading and meeting the softness of the mattress. He could see the red marks on her that he’d made last night. She let the sheet fall and gathered up her underclothes from the floor. Nakedly slender, but without the grace of youth, she walked into the bathroom.
    From behind the closed door came the squeak of a turned faucet handle and the abrupt splash of shower water onto the steel tub. Roebuck heard the tone of the splashing water change as she stepped beneath the shower.
    When she emerged from the bathroom she was wearing her panties and bra, and she moved to the side of the bed and slipped still wet feet into her low heeled shoes. Her short blonde hair was combed roughly now, over a pretty, somewhat angular face, strongly boned yet very feminine. There was a strange serenity in the depths of her green flecked eyes, in the slightly upward curve of her wide mouth.
    “We forgot to buy cups yesterday,” Roebuck said.
    She seemed amused as she went to the bureau mirror and began to apply makeup. “Breakfast here will still be better than at those roadside grease