Why I told Wilson where to find Gatsby

I was enjoying a book in my study, a new one about a study done showing how blacks and lower races are rising in the ranks of society, and how to combat this so whites can maintain their place at the top of the world. Daisy needed some time alone, as the night before was quite hectic for her because of that Jay Gatsby, and she had slept in as well. As I was sitting in my chair, I heard soft footsteps behind me. I call out, assuming it is Daisy, but the voice that replies is not hers. The man said, “You killed Myrtle, didn’t you.” It was George Wilson, Myrtle’s husband. Another reason I was reading was because I was trying to take my mind off of the night before, as that damned Gatsby hit Myrtle with his car, racing home from the city. I think it is one of the reasons Daisy was so shaken in the morning. I stood out of my chair and turned to face Wilson, only to see him shakily pointing a gun at my chest. Wilson told me not to move, and I obligingly put my hands in the air. Wilson looked like he hadn’t slept for a while and had traveled halfway across the country to get to me. He accused me again of killing Myrtle, which I denied, and then reminded him what I had explained to him last night. He didn’t believe me, so I convinced him to come to the garage to see the car, which was not yellow. After this Wilson believed me and asked me how to find the Jay Gatsby. I explained to him where Gatsby lived, because I didn’t want Wilson to shoot me or hurt Daisy, and Wilson left after that. I also did this because it solved two problems with one bullet. If Wilson killed Gatsby, then I would have no worries of him trying to take my Daisy away from me. Wilson would then be a convicted killer and would not be able to find out who was having an affair with his wife. Even if he did find out my connection, then no one would believe him on account of his criminal record. I went back to my study to continue reading my book, confident my problems were solved.