The Ax

by Donald E. Westlake

The only reason for the existence of a novel is that it does attempt to represent life. Henry James, The Art of Fiction, 1888

I’ve never actually killed anybody before, murdered another person, snuffed out another human being.

If I can’t, then all the preparation, all the planning, the files I’ve maintained, the expense I’ve put myself to (when God knows I can’t afford it), have been in vain, and I might as well throw it all away, run no more ads, do no more scheming, simply allow myself to fall back into the herd of steer mindlessly lurching toward the big dark barn where the mooing stops.

Don’t ever permit yourself to become yesterday’s man, that’s one of the basic rules.

The world doesn’t just change these days, it upheaves, constantly. We’re like fleas living on a Dr. Jekyll who’s always in the middle of becoming Mr. Hyde.

But this is the first society ever that takes its most productive people, at their prime, at the peak of their powers, and throws them away. I call that crazy.”

The state police treat me with the calm courtesy reserved for the innocent victim, and they treat the kid with the cold efficiency reserved for assholes.

But the middle class is used to a smooth progress through life. We give up the highs, and in return we’re supposed to be protected from the lows. We give our loyalty to a company, and in return they’re supposed to give us a smooth ride through life. And now it isn’t happening, and we feel betrayed.

I always believed that I and my family and my home and my possessions and my neighborhood and my world were exactly what the police were here to safeguard. Everybody I know believes that, it’s another part of living this life in the middle. But now I understand, they aren’t here for us at all, they’re here for themselves. That’s their agenda. They’re the same as the rest of us, they’re here for themselves, and they are not to be trusted.

It was mostly like going to church, somebody else’s church. You watch the other congregants, do what they do, go along with the ritual as best you can, without understanding a bit of it, but keeping in mind always that they take it seriously. They believe in it.

Court

Well, it isn’t your desk. Clear it. The owner has realized he can make more money if he replaces you with another sheep.

I did the right thing with Billy, and the reason I did the right thing, and could even think about the problem the right way, is because I don’t trust them anymore. None of them. Now I know it; nobody will take care of me and mine but me.

Today, our moral code is based on the idea that the end justifies the means.

I’m not going to stop, I know I’m not. I’d love to stop, I want desperately to stop, but I’m not going to stop until I’ve got that job. I know how to protect myself now. I will not be made a victim, never again. Anyone who tries to make trouble for me, from now on, with what I now know, anyone at all, corporate or personal, is in for a surprise. It would be better all around if that fucking phone would ring.