Myrtle was still warm as we left. I’ve never seen a man cry as much as Tom did; it was like a thunder shower that car ride home. He was too upset to drive so I offered to drive the rest of the way home. After I was home, I couldn’t help but think who had killed her.
“Hey sport,” said Gatsby.
“Hey,” I said back.
Did you hear about that young gal who got ran over last night I said?
“Yes, I did, horrible thing, huh?” said Gatsby.
Sure was. Do you have any clue who it could have been? As soon as I asked Gatsby this he became very nervous. The sky began to sweat like Gatsby’s forehead. I wondered did he really know anything about her murder.
“I’ve got to go!” said Gatsby suddenly.
Gatsby sprinted over the aching size of his green lush lawn and bolted through the dainty doors.
“Everybody, everybody!” gasped Gatsby, “I think someone’s on to us.”
And that everybody who was in the room included Daisy, Tom, Jordan, and Wilson.
“What! You must be mad or something? I must have given the performance of a lifetime last night. There is no way someone could have known it was staged!” said Wilson.
“Well if you had done it my way we wouldn’t be in this mess now would we?” said Daisy.
“Well I don’t think we could have pulled off staging a suicide on such short notice, do you?” said Tom.
“Well, we could have, but it would have been messy.” said Tom.
“Let’s get back to the real issue here! Who the hell is on our tails?” said Wilson
“It’s Nick…” said Gatsby solemnly.
“Nick Caraway, oh my dear.” said Daisy. “It can’t be him!” “No, no, no!’
“I know this is a tragedy.” said Gatsby.
“No it isn’t, this is perfect,” said Tom. “He’s always gotten on my nerves; we’ve killed Myrtle, how hard could Nick be? He’s a small guy, right?”
“No we can’t!” “We can’t kill after all the things he’s done for me, and how loyal he’s been, we can’t kill him.” said Gatsby.
I wondered where Gatsby could have gone to in such a hurry. For the most part I knew he liked my company. I guess I...