Ruth and Judd held chloroform soaked rags over Albert’s mouth and nose. Judd was a corset salesman and losing money. Have an intimate insight into their lives that Tom wouldn’t be able to capture and show. She hoped she could somehow learn more about them than Tom. *** She read whatever she could find on Ruth and her lover. Back in the beginning, when he and Lula had just started, he had told Margaret that the love bites on his neck were from the bird. Lula would ask why he cared, but she knew. Said she would fight like a wet cat for that bird. He was excited the first few days, waiting to hear from Margaret once she came back to town. This, Lula knew, had gotten under Tom’s skin. Never said a word about it, and she always had a lot to say. Turned out Margaret couldn’t stand the thing either, because she never came after it. Lula liked the idea of getting Margaret’s declaration of love as if it could be transferred over like money in a bank account. This bird looked as though all the color had been drained from him, everything but the tail which fanned out in a stark red cape. He had bought it for Margaret in place of an engagement ring. They walked right out the front door with the bird still in its cage and that black sheet over it. And when Lula turned, he had her there – it was the last time it went like that. When her feet were flat on the ground, he held her there in front of him, against him. He helped her down and slid his hands over the length of her, touching every part. Lula remembered the way Tom looked at her as if heat burned through his eyes. One small broken window above the basement and it became something else. He hadn’t planned on it being dramatic as all that, but Margaret had changed the locks like she said she would. They went to the house he had shared with her and broke in. During the divorce Lula and Tom had gone on an adventure that’s what he’d called it. Tom stroked it and whispered something that Lula couldn’t hear. Its neck bent unnaturally, and it made her put a hand up to her throat. The bird twisted its head around to stare at her. He walked over to the cage and let the bird out onto his finger. Lula could sense him vibrating underneath his skin.
If he could have left earlier, if the Daily News would have let him stay in one of their kept rooms at a hotel in the city, he would have been gone already, but they made him wait. A nose that had been broken more than once and eyes set deep. Hard set features, nothing soft there, not even his lips. The body of it would be strapped to Tom's ankle, the lens facing out and angled up, and the shutter release would be wired up through his pant leg to the arm of his jacket, so he could press it as if he were clicking a pen. They hired another man to make them a camera special for the job. The editors thought it would be clever to bring someone in that the guards had never seen before. He would be working for the New York Daily News, he explained, because no photographers were being let into Ruth Snyder’s execution, just reporters. The snow was coming down in big heavy flakes as a few men in dark jackets started to make their trek to work. “Why would anyone want to see that?” Lula asked while letting her vision blur as she stared out the window. They’re going to run it on the front page.” “The execution,” he said with a too big smile. “They’re executing them next week and they want me to come in and take pictures.” She knew it made him feel good to tell her about things. Lula shook her head, she didn’t pay attention to the news, which Tom had liked at the start. “You know that big case where the woman killed her husband? The dumbbell murder?” The only furniture being the bed, a couch in the living room, and a kitchen table set that came cheap because it had been scratched in the store. But Lula didn’t think it was any bigger, now. Tom had said it was too cramped for him there, and there was an opening at the DC bureau of the Chicago Tribune. “Work, they want me for something big up in New York,” he said over his shoulder.Ī few months ago, they had moved into their DC apartment from his studio in Chicago. It had been a long time since she had seen him like this, and she was nervous. Lula pulled her hair behind her ears and watched him. When she came into the kitchen, he was moving very fast, almost so her tired eyes couldn’t keep up with him, and he blurred as he paced from one spot to another. It didn’t matter, she was such a light sleeper that it wasn’t the bird or the phone call that woke her, it was the absence of his weight. Lula couldn’t remember when Tom started discreetly coming to and leaving their bed, but there must have been a particular day when he decided to be quieter.
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