Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine. Vol. 49, No. 1 & 2, January/February 2004

It was Friday, and Carl had gone into town to the bank as he did every Friday morning. Angus Haynes sat on his back porch watching Rufus manicure his lawn and hedges while offering liberal suggestions, as if none of Rufus’s efforts would ever be adequate.

Lena let Memphis into the house, and he went immediately to the old man’s study. Various papers were scattered over the desk as if being victimized by unwelcome eyes had never occurred to Angus Haynes.

Memphis was learning nothing new. He was simply confirming what Lena had already told him. He was about to chalk the little escapade up as a waste when a small silver object on the mantel caught his eye. It was a key and an odd one at that. It was cylindrical with an octagonal hole in the center and large flanges on the proximal end. He had seen one like it a long time ago and found it curious that Angus Haynes would keep this one so handy. Maybe he had a reason, but it damn sure wasn’t love.

Everything he knew about Haynes was paradoxical. He was a racist criminal who had settled into a reclusive small town lifestyle while orchestrating capers hundreds of miles away. He was a respected landowner who had killed his wife in public without a soul willing to acknowledge it. Worst of all, he had lied about her accidental death for so long that he probably believed it himself, and he made a weekly pilgrimage to her grave to give it credence.

Memphis hesitated briefly before taking the key. It was in such a prominent place, it would surely be missed. This was an opportunity, however, that was unlikely to recur. He stuffed the key in his pocket and left before the old man returned.

Memphis waited until dark and entered the Haynes property through the forest at the rear of the home. There was a small clearing separated and hidden from the house by a thin line of trees. A full moon illuminated the area, revealing carefully manicured grass and flower beds. In the center was a long concave slab of gray concrete. If he was right, by the time Angus made his Sunday pilgrimage, he would be long gone and a helluva lot more content than at any other time in his life.

The slab was heavy but movable. His fingers ran across the name engraved on the top. He didn’t bother to read it. It was a name, but it wasn’t important. What was important was what was inside.

He slid the slab to the side, revealing a white metal casket that reflected the moonlight with an eerie glow. Memphis slipped the key out of his pocket. The dead can’t hurt you, he told himself. If they could, Angus Haynes’s wife would have surely found a way out of that casket by now.

The key slid into the opening on the side of the casket perfectly. He turned it slowly with his heart pounding in his throat in anticipation.

Why would a man who hated his wife enough to kill her keep her casket key so close at hand? Why would he visit her grave every Sunday? Nothing in the man’s past indicated that he had the slightest remorse for anything he ever did.

He lifted the casket’s lid and got his answer immediately. He could barely see the desiccated remains of Angus Haynes’s wife. Stuffed throughout the casket were plastic bags filled with money.

Memphis waited with more patience than he was accustomed to having. It was Saturday morning, and Lena should have been there two hours ago. There was a time when he would have simply left. He had a trunk full of money and a fast car. With that kind of leverage, women were generally no problem, but times had changed. He had changed. He seemed to need something to hold on to no matter how tenuous it was.

Lena pulled into the narrow lane behind him. She was driving one of her father’s cars and left it to join him in his. She moved with a nervous, tight-lipped clumsiness as she threw a few sparse possessions into the back seat.

“I’m sorry,” she began to explain. “I had trouble getting away. All hell broke loose. He discovered that the key was missing.”

“Too damned late,” Memphis laughed. “I’ve got to meet Rufus and give him his cut, then we’re out of here.”

“Rufus isn’t coming,” Lena said hesitantly.

Memphis jammed the brakes abruptly.

“Why? What are you talking about?”

“They caught Rufus. They think he stole the key. I was able to sneak away while they were busy with him.”

“Busy! Busy with him? What do you mean?”

“What the hell do you think I mean?” she screamed. “Where... where are you going?”

Memphis had pulled the car out of the lane onto the highway and headed back in the direction of the Haynes home.

“They’ll kill him,” he explained.

“This is our chance,” Lena countered. “He doesn’t know you came back. He has no reason to suspect me. Carl is above reproach. Rufus is the only other person who had free access to the house. Can’t you see, Rufus is buying us time.”

“I don’t need that kind of time,” Memphis retorted.

“What difference does it make? He’s just...”

Memphis cut her words off with a sudden stare.

“...somebody who works there.”