Chapter 5 Chapter 4 Murder in a Small Town

one Castle Rock has been an unfortunate town in recent years. As if to prove the old adage that misfortunes never come singly, in the last eight or ten years a string of horrible things have happened here that have made national news.When those terrible things happened, George Berman was the local sheriff, and people affectionately called him Big George, but Big George would not come to the Homer Gamache case because Big George was dead.At that time, a man in the police committed a series of rape-strangle crimes, and Big George solved the case. However, two years later, he was killed by a mad dog on Highway 3 outside. It was literally ripped apart.These events are very strange, but the world is a strange place, unforgiving and sad.

The new Sheriff, Alan Pumpberg, was not in Castle Rock at the time. Before 1989, he was responsible for highway safety in a small and medium-sized city in upstate New York. Looking at the broken body of Homer Gamache in the ditch beside Route 35, he wished he was still in the same small and medium-sized city.It appears that the town's bad luck didn't disappear at all with the death of Big George Berman. Oh, don't get me wrong - you don't wish you were anywhere else.Don't say you want to look elsewhere, or bad luck will really catch you.Annie and the kids thought it was a good place.So, why not dismiss that idea?

This is advice.Pangbo discovered that a man's head always gives his nerves advice they cannot accept.The nerve said, (Yes, sir, now that you mention it, it's true.) Then the nerve began to jitter. He was prepared for such things, wasn't he?During his tenure as sheriff, he had dug up the remains of forty bodies on the side of the road in small towns, stopped countless fights, and handled hundreds of spousal and child abuse cases—and that was only officially reported, but During his years in office, there were few murders.There were only four, and only one escaped - Joe Lowe after beheading his wife.Pombo knew something about the woman, and he almost felt sorry for Lowe when he got a fax from the Rhode Island police saying they had them.

The other homicide was a car homicide.The remaining two are fairly unremarkable, one with a knife and one with bare knuckles - the latter is a case of spousal abuse that goes to extremes together, except for one thing that is unique: the wife takes the drunken husband He was beaten to death to avenge the beatings he had suffered in the past twenty years.The bruises on her body were still visible when she was charged.The judge only sentenced her to six months in a women's correctional facility, followed by six years of probation, which Pangbo had no regrets about.Judge Pender may just be unwise to give the lady what she really deserves, which is a medal.

He finds that small-town murders in real life have nothing in common with the small-town murders in Agatha Christie's novels.In the novel, on a stormy night, seven people took turns to stab the evil old colonel with a knife in the colonel's house.Pangbo knew that in real life, when you arrived at the scene, you would always find the criminal still standing there, looking down at the chaos, wondering what the hell he was doing, how he could get out of control like this, causing terrible as a result of.Even if the criminal leaves the scene, he usually doesn't go very far. There are always two or three witnesses who can tell you what happened, who did it, and where he went.The answer to the last question is usually the nearest pub.In general, real-life small-town murders are simple, brutal, and silly.

Generally speaking. However, if there is a general, there will be a special.Sometimes murders in small towns are hard to solve right away...and that was the case with this murder. Pang Bo waited patiently. two Sergeant Norris Ridjwick walked from his patrol car, which was parked behind Pangbo's car.In the warm air of late spring, two special warplanes for the police were crackling. "Is Ray coming?" Pangbo asked.Ray was referring to Ray Van Alen, attending physician and coroner. "Yes," said Norris. "How about Homer's wife? Has anyone told her?"

As Pangbol spoke, he waved away the flies off Homer's face.Homer was on his back, but there was nothing left but his protruding hooked nose.Pangbo doubted that his own mother wouldn't have recognized him without the false left arm and the gold teeth that had been in his mouth before, and now shattered into pieces and scattered on his limp neck and shirt. Constable Norris Rijwick lumbered over, looking down at the toes of his shoes, as if suddenly interested in them. "Well... John's on patrol, Andy's in Magistrates Court—" Pang Bo sighed and stood up.The deceased, Homer Gamache, was sixty-seven years old.He and his wife lived in a neat little house next to the old railway station, not two miles away, and their children were grown and gone.Early this morning, Mrs. Gamache called the sheriff's office and said in a crying voice: She woke up at seven today and found that Homer hadn't returned all night. He usually slept in the child's room because he thought she was snoring in a room.Last night at seven, he was out bowling, as usual, and he was supposed to be home by midnight, no later than twelve-thirty, but the bed was empty and his car wasn't in the yard or garage.

Sheila Briam, the daytime dispatcher, relayed the call to Sheriff Pumpbor, who was filling up at the gas station, and immediately called Mrs. Gamarch from the gas station pay phone after hearing the report. He started by telling him all about the truck—a 1971 Chevrolet pickup, white with tea-colored rust spots, a gun mount on the seat, Maine license plate number 96529Q.He radioed this to his men on duty (there were only three of them, and Andy testified in court), and told Mrs. Gamache that he would let her know as soon as he had news.He wasn't in a hurry, Gamache liked beer, especially when he was bowling, but he wasn't stupid.If he gets too drunk and doesn't feel safe driving, he can sleep on the couch in the living room of one of his ballplay mates.

One question, though: If Homer decides to stay at a golfer's house, why doesn't he call his wife and let her know?Doesn't he know that she will worry?It was late and maybe he didn't want to disturb her, the possibility existed.Another possibility, Pangbo thought, was that he had called, but she was in a deep sleep and didn't hear it. There was a closed door between her bedroom and the house where the phone was placed.To this possibility, you must attach the condition that she was purring loudly. Pangborn said goodbye to the restless Mrs. Gamache and hung up.He thought her husband would be home by eleven o'clock this morning at the latest, shame-faced and hungover.Then Mrs. Gamache would give the old guy a good beating.Pang Bo himself would sarcastically say a few words about him.

An hour after Mrs. Gamache's phone call, he felt something was wrong with his analysis.If Gamache was spending the night at a bowling buddy's house, Pangbo thought, it would be the first time.Otherwise, his wife would have thought of the possibility herself, or at least would have waited a little longer before calling the sheriff's office.At this moment, Pangbol suddenly realized that Homer Gamache was too old to change his habits.If he had slept somewhere last night, he should have done so before, but his wife's call indicated no.If he had been able to drive home before, he should have been able to do so last night. ...but he didn't.

So the old guy has learned a new habit at last, he thought.This kind of thing also happens from time to time.Maybe he just drank too much.He might even be drinking as much as usual, but more drunk than usual.They say it does happen. He tried to forget about Homer Gamache, at least temporarily.He had a lot of work to do and he sat at the desk with a pencil in his hand and wondered where the old man was with his van.This old guy has white hair, shaved very short, and a robotic arm, he lost his real arm in Busan, when most of the vietnam vets who are now cops were shitting in diapers...forget it , it was useless to think about it, it would neither help him do what he was supposed to do nor find Gamache. But he went to Sheila Briam's cabin anyway, trying to put her in touch with Norris Rijwick, and ask if Norris had found anything, when Norris himself called in.This move by Norris aggravated Pangbo's uneasiness, and a coolness penetrated Pangbo's whole body, making him feel a little numb. He laughs at people who talk about telepathy and prophets on radio shows.Suggestions and premonitions became a part of people's lives, and when they used them, they didn't realize it, mistaking them for telepathy and prophets, and he laughed at these people for doing so.But, if asked what he thought of Homer Gamache at that moment, Pombo would reply: (When Norris called in...ah, that's when I began to know that the old man was either badly wounded or dead .The latter is more likely.) three Norris happened to stop at Ascent Farm on Route 35, a mile south of Hometown Cemetery.He didn't even think about Homer Gamache, even though Assent Farm was less than three miles from Homer's house, and besides, if Homer had come home from South Paris Ann by the normal route last night, he would have passed by Assent Farm.Norris believed that no one at the Ascent Farm would have seen Homer last night, because if they had, Homer would be home safe and sound in ten minutes. Norris stopped by Ascent Farms because they have three of the best road produce stands in town.He's one of those bachelors who loves to cook, and he has a strong penchant for fresh sweet snap peas.He wondered when Arsent's ranch was on sale and, by the way, if Mrs. Arsent had seen Homer Gamache's van. "You know," said Mrs. Arsent, "it's very interesting that you ask that question, because I did see it, at the end of last night, no . . . "John Carlson" was still playing, but it was almost the end. I went to get a bowl of ice cream, watched David Entman for a while, and then went to bed. I don't sleep very well these days, and That man over the road made me very uneasy." "What kind of man, Mrs. Arsent?" asked Norris, suddenly interested. "I don't know—someone. I don't like the way he looks. I can't even see him, but I just don't like the way he looks, how could that be? I know, it doesn't sound good, but that The asylum isn't too far from here. Also, when you see a man alone on the road at one o'clock in the morning, it's unnerving to anyone, even if he's wearing a suit." "What kind of suit is he wearing—" Norris began to ask, but it didn't help.Mrs. Arsent was a garrulous old country woman, and she went on talking to herself, ignoring Norris Ridjwick altogether.Deciding to let her finish and collect as much useful information as possible, he took his notebook from his pocket. "In a way," she went on, "the suit made me more uneasy. A man in a suit looks weird at those times, if you know what I mean. Maybe you don't, maybe you think I'm just a Stupid old woman, maybe I'm a stupid old woman, but a minute or two before Homer came over, I had a feeling that the man might be coming to my house. I got up and checked to make sure the door was locked .You know, he looked this way, I saw him do that. I said he looked this way because he could see that the windows were lit at this late hour and probably could see me because the curtains Very thin. I couldn't see his face clearly - no moon or lights last night - but I could see him turn his head. Then he actually started crossing the road - at least I think that's what he was doing , or trying to do, if you know what I mean - I think he's going to come knock on my door and say his car is broken down, can he use the phone, I don't know if he does, I don't know what I'll say, and I don't know if I'll answer the door. I guess I'm a stupid old woman, because I think of that movie, Alfred Hitchcock's Gift, where there's a crazy guy who Can do magic to make birds fall out of trees, except he first has to chop someone up with an ax and he puts the pieces in the trunk of his car, just because one of his taillights is broken or something like that That's why they got him—but on the other hand—" "Mrs. Arsenter, may I ask—" "—I don't like that dreadful man over the road," continued Mrs. Arsent, "you know. That's why I'm a little uneasy. But I said to myself—" By this time Norris had completely forgotten about the sugar peas.He told Mrs. Arsent that the people she saw might be related to the case they were investigating, which finally gave her pause.He wanted her to start from the beginning, to tell him everything she had seen, without mentioning "Alfred Hitchcock's Gift" if possible. The story he told Sheriff Alan Pumpberg over the walkie-talkie went like this: She was watching "Midnight Movies" by herself while her husband and children were in bed.Her chair was by the window, Route 35 outside, and the curtains were drawn.At about 12:30 or 12:40, she looked up and saw a person standing far away on the other side of the road...that is, the "hometown cemetery" side. Is that person coming from that direction, or from another direction? Mrs. Arsenter couldn't tell.She had the impression that he might be coming from the "home cemetery" direction, meaning he was leaving town, but she couldn't say for sure what gave her that impression, because the first time she looked out the window, All she could see was the empty road, and before she got up to get the ice cream, she took another look, and he was already there.Just standing there, looking at the lighted window - maybe at her.She thought he was going to cross the road or had already started to cross it (Pangbol thought: maybe he was just standing there; the rest was just a woman's nervous gibberish) when lights appeared on the hillside.When the man in the coat saw the approaching lights, he gave a thumbs up gesture asking for a lift. "It's Homer's van, and Homer was driving," Mrs. Arsent told Norris. "At first, I thought he was going to keep driving past, as any normal person would if they saw a hitchhiker in the middle of the night, but then the car The tail lights came on and the guy ran to the passenger side of the car and got in." Mrs. Arsent was forty-six, but looked twenty years older, and she shook her white hair. "Homer must be crazy to give a lift so late," he told Norris, "either crazy or simple-minded, and I've known Homer for almost thirty-five years, and he's not a simple-minded man. " She paused for a moment to think. "Oh...it's not very simple." Norris tried unsuccessfully to get Mrs. Arsent to elaborate on the suit the man was wearing.It's a shame because streetlights only go as far as "hometown cemetery", but there's only so much money available in a small town like Castle Rock. She was sure it was a suit, not a tracksuit or a jacket, and it wasn't black, which left too many colors to choose from.Mrs. Arsent didn't think the hitchhiker's suit was pure white, but she could have sworn it wasn't black either. "I don't really ask you to swear, Mrs. Arsent," said Norris. "When a man talks serious to a policeman," replied Mrs. Arsent, crossing her arms, "it always does." So, the basics of what she knew were this: at about twelve forty-five in the morning, she saw Homer Gamache accepting a hitchhiker.But here's the kicker: Homer picked up a hitchhiker less than three kilometers from his own home...and didn't make it to home. Mrs. Arsent was right about the suit, too.It was strange in itself to see a hitchhiker in the middle of the night--at 12:45 the average tramp was already lying down in a nearby disused barn or farmer's shed--and he was Wearing a suit and tie (“some kind of black,” says Mrs. Arsent, “just don’t make me swear what black it is, because I can’t, and I won’t”) is all the more uncomfortable. "What do you want me to do next?" Norris asked over the intercom after his report. "Stay where you are," Pombo said. "Talk to Mrs. Arsent about The Alfred Hitchcock Present until I get there. I used to love those movies myself." But he had driven less than half a mile before their rendezvous turned from Ascent Farm to a point about a mile west of it.A boy named Frank Garvey came home from fishing in the morning and saw two thighs sticking out of the tall grass on the south side of Route 35. He ran home and told his mother that she was going to the sheriff's office. Telephone.Dispatcher Sheila Briam relayed the message to Alan Pumppole and Norris Rijwick.Shera obeyed the rules by not mentioning names on the intercom—many curious people eavesdropped on police intercoms all the time—but Alain could guess from Shera's frustrated voice that she knew who those thighs belonged to. The only good thing that happened all morning was that Norris vomited before Pombo got there, and he was more than aware that the vomit was on the north side of Highway 3, far from the body and any evidence that might have been around it. "What now?" asked Norris, interrupting his musings. Sergeant Pangble sighed heavily and stopped blasting the flies off Homer's remains, a lost battle. "Now I'll go and tell Mrs. Gamarch to come and see it as early as possible this morning. You stay here with the body and try to keep the flies away." "Why, Sheriff, why? Too many flies. And he—" "Dead, yeah, I know that for a fact. I don't know why we did it, because it seemed the way to go, and we couldn't get his goddamn arm on, but we could at least keep the flies out of his left Shit on the nose." "All right," said Norris respectfully, "all right, Sheriff." "Can you call me 'Alan', Norris? Give it a try?" "Okay, Sheriff." Pang Bo snorted, turned around and took one last look at the entire trench. When he returned, it might have been fenced off, with the words "Crime Scene, Do Not Enter" tied to the survey pole in yellow.The coroner will be here.Photographers and technicians from the Department of Justice's Capital Crimes Division will be arriving shortly.At one o'clock in the afternoon, the mobile laboratory of the state police department will also be here, with a large number of experts, and a person who specializes in taking wheel impressions. How did all this happen?Oh, it's simple: a half-drunk old man pulls over to help a stranger ("Come on, boy," Alan can hear him say, "I've only got a few miles, but I can give you a ride") , and the stranger repays by beating the old man to death and stealing his car. He guessed it went like this: the man in the suit begged Homer to pull over—the most likely excuse was that he needed to urinate—once the car stopped, he knocked the old man out, and— Ah, the most disgusting behavior comes next, it's so fucking disgusting. Alan looked down at the ditch for the last time, and Norris crouched next to the bloody mass of flesh that had once been a man, patiently flicking away flies with the clipboard, and Alan felt his stomach turn again. He's just an old man, you bastard—a half-drunk old man with one real arm whose only pleasure is bowling at night.So why don't you knock him unconscious and just throw him out of the car?The night was warm, and if it had been colder he would have been fine.He is in good health and won't catch a cold.The license plate numbers of the trucks are electrified nationwide.So, why is this so?Hello, I hope to have a chance to ask you. But what does it matter?Definitely not about Homer, not anymore, nothing about Homer anymore.Because after knocking him unconscious, the hitchhiker pulled him out of the cab and dragged him into the ditch, probably by grabbing his armpit.Alan could see the marks left by Garic's shoes.In the process, the hitchhiker discovers Homer's disability.At the bottom of the ditch, he jerked the mechanical arm off the old man and beat him to death with it.