Chapter 16 The second coercion

Any quick fool can grab a tiger's testicles. Jack started laughing, Marcin gave him a look, and he stopped quickly.Don't smirk, listen to me, yes, Mr. Massin.Well listen, never forget that any quick fool can grab a tiger's testicles, but only a hero can go ahead and squeeze them.I'll tell you one more thing: Only heroes and cowards win easily, Jack, and no one else, and I'm not a coward. —George Stark: The Marcin Way Chapter 15 Stark's Mystery one Ted and Liz are shocked when Alan Pangble tells them about early morning events in New York.Mike Donaldson was hacked to death in the hallway of his apartment, Phyllis Myers was shot dead with two police officers in her West End apartment, the janitor of the Myers building was hit with a heavy object and suffered a fractured skull , the doctor thinks that he is not dead, and the janitor of the Donaldson building is dead.The whole homicide is carried out in the underworld way, that is, the murderer directly finds the victim and then does it.

As Pangbol spoke, he kept calling the murderer Stark. He called his name without thinking, Tad mused.Then he shook his head, a little impatient with himself.You gotta call him something, he thought, and while Stark might be a little better than "Criminal" or "Mr. mistake. "How's Cowley?" Pangbol finished, and Thad was finally able to ask. "Mr Cowley is alive and under police protection." It was ten fifteen in the morning, almost two hours before the explosion that killed Rick and one of his protectors. "Phyllis Miles was under police protection," Liz said.In the large enclosure, Wendy was sleeping soundly, William was taking a nap, his eyes were closed, his head slowly dropped to his chest... Then his head suddenly lifted up again, Pang Bo felt that William looked very funny, like a man trying not to A sentry on duty who fell asleep, but his head-up movements became weaker and weaker each time.Pang Bo folded the notebook on his lap, looked at the twins, and found something interesting: every time William jerked his head up, the sleeping Wendy would twitch.

Did their parents notice this?Of course they noticed, he thought in amazement, and then thought again. "That's right, Liz. He attacked them, you know, the police are as vulnerable as anyone else, they just should be better off. On the floor where Phyllis Myers lived, there were gunshots in the hallway after the shooting." Several people opened the door and looked out, and from their descriptions and what the police found at the scene, we know what happened. Stark pretended to be a blind man and did not change his clothes after killing Miriam and MacDonaldson , the clothes are very dirty. He came out of the elevator wearing dark glasses, he probably bought it in Times Square or a street vendor, and he waved a bloody white cane, God knows where he got the cane , but the New York police believe he also hit the janitor with the cane."

"He must have stolen it from a real blind man," Thad said calmly. "This fellow is no noble knight, Pangbol." "You're right. He's probably yelling that he's been attacked, or that he's been attacked by burglars in his apartment, and whatever he's shouting, he's walking towards the police very fast, they don't have time to react, they After all, it was two patrolling police officers who were temporarily pulled from the car and sent to the woman's door without sufficient warning in advance." "But they should also know that Donaldson was killed," Liz protested, "if that didn't alert them to the fact that the man was dangerous—"

"They also knew that the police protecting Donaldson arrived after he was killed," Ted said. "They were overconfident." "Maybe you're right," Pumble admitted, "I don't know, but the cops with Cowley know this man is bold, cunning, and bloody, and they're on the alert. No, Ted—your agent It's safe, you can rest assured." "You said there were many witnesses?" "Ah, yes, a lot of witnesses, at Cowley's ex-wife's place, at Donaldson's, at Miles's, and he doesn't seem to give a shit about it." He looked at Liz and said, "Excuse me for the foul language .”

She smiled slightly: "I've heard of it before, Pang Bo." He nodded, smiled at her, and turned to Tad. "Is what I described to you accurate?" "Exactly," said Alan, "he's tall, fair-haired, and very tanned, so tell me who he is, Ted, tell me his name, and now I'm going to do it for Homer Gammazzi." The goddamn NYPD chief takes me very seriously and my dispatcher thinks I'm going to be a media star, but Homer is what I care about the most. With two cops who died protecting Miles Than, I care more about Homer, so tell me his name."

"You already know that," Thad said. There was a long silence—perhaps ten seconds.Then Pang Bo said softly, "What?" "His name is George Stark." Tad was surprised to find that his voice was very calm, and even more surprised to find that he felt calm... Unless shock and calm feel the same, but actually saying that The feeling of relief it brings is indescribable. "I don't understand what you mean." After a long silence, Pang Bo said. "Of course you don't understand, Pombo," Liz said.Tad looked at her, startled by the crisp, direct tone of her voice. "What my husband said was that somehow his pseudonym came to life. The tombstone in the photo ... the epitaph on that tombstone - 'Not a very cute guy', do you remember?"

"But Liz—" He looked at them both in helpless amazement, as if realizing for the first time that he was talking to two madmen. "Keep your 'buts,'" she said in the same brisk tone, "you'll have a lot of 'buts' later, you and everyone else. Now, listen to me when Ted says George When Stark is not a very cute guy, he is not kidding, he may think he is, but he is not. I know this, even if he doesn't. George Stark is not only not a very cute guy, he was actually still a horrible guy. Every book he wrote made me more and more disturbed, and when Ted finally decided to kill him, I went upstairs to our bedroom and cried with joy." She looked at Tad, who was staring at her, and she studied him, then nodded. "Yes, I cried, I did cry. Mr. Clausen of Washington was a nasty little crawler, but he did us a nice thing, probably the best thing we've ever done since we got married, I We regret his death for that."

"Liz, I don't think you really think—" "Don't tell me what I mean!" Pang Bo blinked.Her voice was still restrained, not high enough to wake Wendy or disturb William from raising his head one last time before lying down to sleep.Pangbo had a feeling that if it weren't for the baby, he would have heard it louder, perhaps at maximum volume. "Now Ted has something to tell you, and you have to listen to him very carefully, Pombo, and you have to try to believe him, because if you don't believe him, I'm afraid this man—or whatever he is—will go on Killing until he killed everyone he was going to kill. For some personal reasons, I didn't want that to happen. You see, I think Ted and I and our children might be among those killed."

"Okay." His voice was calm, but his brain was working fast.He pushed aside his frustration, anger, and even surprise as much as he could to consider this irrational proposition seriously.The question isn't whether it's true or not, but why would they tell such a story in the first place, are they making it up to hide the connection to the murder?A real murder?Do they themselves believe the story?It seemed impossible for such a pair of educated and sound minds to believe the story, but, like the day he arrested Tad for the murder of Homer, they did not appear to be lying at all, or rather, did not The look of lying on purpose. "Okay, Ted."

"Okay," Ted said.Clearing his throat nervously, he stood up.His hand reaches into his breast pocket, and he realizes with some pain what he's doing: reaching for a cigarette he hasn't smoked in years.He reached into his pocket and looked at Alan Pumppole as he would a student in trouble. "Something very weird is happening here. No - not just weird, but horrible and incomprehensible, but it's happening. I think it started when I was only one year old." two Ted said it all: the childhood headache, the sparrow's screech and blurry vision before the headache, the sparrow's return.He showed Pang Bo the manuscript with the words "Sparrows Fly Again", told him about the trance state he had in the office yesterday, and the words written on the back of the order, explained how he handled the order, and tried to express his driving force. The fear and confusion with which he destroyed it. Pang Bo was expressionless. "And," Tad concluded, "I know in my heart that he's Stark." He closed his fist and tapped his own chest lightly. For a moment, Pangbo said nothing.He began to turn the wedding ring on the ring finger of his left hand, a movement that seemed to have his full attention. "You've lost weight since you got married," said Liz quietly. "If you don't make the ring smaller, Pangbol, you'll lose it one day." "I think I will." He looked up at her.As he spoke, it seemed as if Tad had left the house for something, and they were the only ones left there. "After I left, your husband took you upstairs to his study to show you this first message from the ghost world... Is that so?" "The only ghost world I'm sure of is the liquor store a mile down the road," Liz said quietly, "but he did show me the message after you left, that's all." "Just after I left?" "No—we put the twins to bed and we were getting ready for bed ourselves when I asked Ted what he was hiding." "Did he step out of your sight between the time I left and the time he told you about the birdsong and the trance? Did he have time to go upstairs and write what I told you?" "I don't remember exactly," she said, "I think we were together during that time, but I can't say absolutely. Even if I tell you he never left my eyes, it doesn't matter, yes ?" "What do you mean, Liz?" "I mean you can assume I'm lying too, can't you?" Pang Bo sighed deeply, which was the only answer the two of them really needed. "Ted wasn't lying." Pangbo nodded. "I appreciate your honesty—but since you can't swear that he hasn't stepped a step away from you, I don't have to accuse you of lying. I'm glad you admit that it's possible, and I think you admit it." The alternative is very implausible." Tad leaned against the fireplace, rolling his eyes from side to side like a man watching a tennis match.What Sergeant Pangbo said was what Ted expected. He pointed out the loopholes in Ted's story very kindly, and the kindness was beyond ordinary, but Ted was still disappointed...almost heartbroken.The hunch that Pang Bo would believe it was false, just like a bottle of medicine that said it could cure all diseases was false. "Yes, I admit you are right." Liz said calmly. "As for what Ted claims happened in his office ... no one saw him lose consciousness or write those words. In fact, he didn't mention it to you until Cowley's ex-wife called, did he?" "No, he didn't." "So..." He shrugged. "I want to ask you a question, Pangpo." "Say it." "Why did Ted lie? What was he trying to achieve?" "I don't know," Pangbol looked at her frankly. "He probably doesn't know himself." He glanced at Tad, then turned back to Liz. "He probably didn't even know he was lying. I want It was very clear: no police officer would accept such a thing without strong evidence, and strong evidence does not exist now." "Ted told the truth. I understand what you're saying, but I also want you to believe he's telling the truth. I want you to believe it. You see, I live with George Stark in the Together, I understand how Ted feels about him as time goes by. I'm going to tell you something that Popular doesn't, by the penultimate issue, Ted has started to get rid of Stark—" "The third to last," Thad said quietly from the fireplace.He longed for a cigarette so badly that he couldn't help it, "I started saying that after the first book." "Well, third to last. Judging from the articles on the magazine, it seems to be a recent event. That's not true. That's what I said on purpose. If Frederick Clausen doesn't come and force my husband I think Ted would talk about getting rid of him, like an alcoholic or a recluse telling his family and friends that he quit tomorrow... or the day after... or the day after tomorrow." "No," said Thad, "not exactly that. Not accurate in general to specific details." He paused, frowning, thinking intently.Pangpo had to admit that they weren't lying or torturing him for some weird reason, they weren't trying to convince him, or themselves, but just stating the way things were... like people after a fire Trying to describe the situation at the time was the same. "Look," Tad said at last, "let's leave the unconsciousness and sparrows and portentous visions aside for a moment. You can talk to my doctor, George Hummer, about the physical symptoms if you think it's necessary, and maybe I shot yesterday Photos of my brain show something odd, and even if they don't, the doctor who operated on me as a child is probably still alive, and he can talk to you about the medical records, and he probably knows something that explains this mess. I can't remember his name right now, but I'm sure it's on my medical records. But right now, all this supernatural nonsense doesn't matter." Pangbol was taken aback by Ted saying that...if he had deliberately forged that note and lied.Someone who's lost their minds to that extent is bound to think that the note is a sign of the paranormal, and talk about it, and Ted wouldn't talk about it, would he?Pangbo's head began to ache. "Okay," he said quietly, "if 'supernatural bullshit' doesn't matter, what matters?" "George Stark is the most important," said Tad, and thought: "The railroad to Underswell, where all railroads terminate." "Imagine some stranger entering your house ...you're always a little bit scared of the man, like Jim Hudgens was always a little bit scared of the old seal—have you read Treasure Island?" He nodded. "Well, then you know the feeling I'm trying to convey. You're scared of the guy, you don't like him at all, but you let him stay. You don't open a hotel like in Treasure Island, But maybe you think he's a distant relative of your wife, or something like that. Do you understand me?" Pang Bo nodded. "Finally one day, this badass smashed the salt shaker against the wall because it was clogged, and you said to your wife, 'How long is your idiot cousin going to stay?' She looked at you and said, 'My cousin? I thought he was your cousin!'” Pang Bo couldn't help laughing. "But are you kicking this guy out of the house?" Ted continued, "No. Because he's been living in your house for a while, and while onlookers will think it's ridiculous, he seems to have... residency, but That's not a very important thing." Liz is nodding.Her eyes had an excited, appreciative expression, like a woman told a word that has danced on her tongue all day without being able to say it. "The important thing is how scared you are of him," she said, "of what he'll do if you let him go." "You're right," Ted said, "that you want to be brave enough to let him go, not only because you fear he might be dangerous, but it's a matter of self-esteem. But...you keep procrastinating, you look for reasons to procrastinate, Like if it's raining, he might be more receptive if you let him go on a sunny day, or maybe let him go after you've both had a good night's sleep, etc. You think of a thousand reasons to procrastinate .You find that if you think you have good reason, you can at least retain a little bit of dignity, and that some self-esteem is better than none at all, and some self-esteem is better than ending up hurt or dead." "And maybe it's not just you." Liz chimed in again, her voice deliberate and cheerful, like a woman talking about gardening—when to plant corn, or how to tell when tomatoes were ripe and ready to harvest. "He was an ugly, dangerous man when he ... lived with us ... now he's an ugly, dangerous man, and there are signs that if anything he's changed it's for the worse .He's mentally unsound, but he thinks what he's doing is perfectly reasonable: finding the people who plotted to kill him, and killing them one by one." "Are you finished?" She looked at Pang Bo in surprise, as if his voice woke her up from her contemplation: "What?" "Have you finished speaking? If you want to speak, I will let you finish." Her composure was broken.She took a deep breath and inserted her hands into her hair uneasily: "You don't believe it, do you? You don't believe it at all." "Liz," Pumble said, "this is all... blah, I'm sorry to use the word, but I think it's the mildest word given the circumstances. There'll be other cops here soon , the FBI's, because this man can now be considered an interstate fugitive, so the FBI will be involved. If you tell them the story of unconsciousness and ghost writing, you will hear scathing comments. If you Tell me these people were killed by a ghost, and I won't believe you." Tad moved a little, but Pangbol held up a hand, and he calmed down again, at least temporarily. "We're not talking about a ghost, we're talking about a person." "How do you explain my description?" Ted asked suddenly. "I'm telling you what I think George Stark looks like. Some of it is from the author's profile of Darwin Press, and some of it is just a product of my head. I never sat down and pictured the guy on purpose, you know—I just developed an image over the years, like when you listen to a music show every morning on your way to work, you form a mental picture of the DJ. But big In some cases, if you happen to meet the host of the show, you are often proven wrong and I am right, how do you explain it?" "I can't explain it," Pangbol said, "unless, of course, you're not telling the truth about where that description came from." "You know I'm not lying." "Don't make that assumption," said Pangbourne, getting up and going to the fire, poking at the pile of birch clumps with his poker, "not every lie is conscious. If one convinces I believe he's telling the truth, he can even pass a lie detector, Ted Bundy did that." "Hey," Ted yelled, "don't be so far-fetched, it's a lot like the fingerprint thing, only this time I can't produce evidence. By the way, how do the fingerprints explain it? You take that into account Doesn't that at least prove we're telling the truth?" Pangbol turned, suddenly angry at Ted...at both of them.He felt as if he was cornered and they had no right to do so.He's like the only one out of a bunch of people who believe the earth is flat who believes the earth is round. "I can't explain that . . . not yet," he said, "but will you tell where this guy—a real guy—comes from, Ted. Did you make him overnight? ?Did he pop out of a goddamn sparrow egg? Did you look like him when you wrote a book under his name? What the hell is going on?" "I don't know how he came about," said Thad wearily. "Don't you think I'd tell you if I knew? For all I know or remember, I was writing Marcin's Way, Oxford Blues , Shark Pie, and Sail To Babylon, I was still me. I had no idea when he became a...a man in his own right. When I write under his name, I feel like he is Really, it's like when I write I think the stories I'm writing are true. That said, I take them seriously, but I don't believe them...unless I...then..." He paused and smiled sheepishly. "I've been talking about writing," he said, "in hundreds of lectures, in a thousand classes, but I've never talked about the novelist's dual reality—the real world and the world on the page. I never thought about it , and now I realize that... well... I really don't know what to think about it." "It doesn't matter," Liz said, "Ted didn't have to be a separate person before he tried to kill him." Pangborn turned to her: "Hey, Liz, you know Ted better than anyone. Did he go from Mr. Beaumont to Mr. Stark when he wrote the crime stories? Did he slap you? Did he Threatened with a razor at a party?" "Sarcasm doesn't help," he said, looking straight at him. He raised his hand angrily—although he didn't know who had annoyed him, were they?Is it himself?Or the three of them? "I'm not being sarcastic, I'm using verbal shock therapy to show you how out of your mind you are! You're talking about a pseudonym coming to life! If you tell half of that to the FBI, they'll put you in jail! " "The answer to your question is no," said Liz, "he didn't hit me or brandish a razor at a cocktail party. But when he was writing as George Stark—especially when he wrote about A When Alex Marcin - Ted was different. When he opened the door and invited Stark in, he became very distant, not cold, but distant. He didn't want to go out, didn't want to meet people. He sometimes didn't participate Faculty meetings, even canceled appointments with students...although that was rare. He would sleep late at night, sometimes toss and turn for an hour after going to bed, would twitch and whisper a lot in his sleep, as if he was doing something evil Dreams. I asked him a few times on the spot, and he said he had headaches and restlessness, but couldn't remember having nightmares. "He didn't have a huge personality change...but he did kind of. My husband quit drinking a long time ago, Pangbo. He didn't go to AA or any of that kind of organization, but he did. With one exception. Write After finishing a Stark novel, he'd get drunk, as if he'd let go of all the pressure, and say to himself, 'The son of a bitch is gone again, at least for a while. George goes back to where he was Mississippi farm, great." "She's right," Tad said, "that's great—that's what it feels like. Let's put aside unconsciousness and auto-writing for a moment, and let me sum it up. The people you're after are killing people I know People, except Homer Gammazzi, who were all responsible for the 'execution' of George Stark...by conspiring with me, of course. It's not uncommon for him to have the same blood type as mine, but out of a hundred And only six of them. He fits the description I gave you, and that description is a product of my mind. He smokes cigarettes I've smoked in the past. Last but not least, his fingerprints seem to be the same as mine. Maybe a hundred people Six of them had type A negative blood, but as far as we know, there is not another person in the world who has my fingerprints. Despite this evidence, you still refuse to consider Stark alive. Now, Alan Pump Sheriff, tell me: Who's doing the confusion?" Pang Bo felt that the foundation he thought was unbreakable loosened.It's really impossible, isn't it?But...if he has nothing else to do today, he's going to have to talk to Ted's doctor and start chasing the medical records.He thought it would be great to find out that there was no brain tumor at all, and that Ted might be lying...maybe hallucinating.How satisfying it would be if he could prove that the man was a psychopath.Maybe…… Shit maybe.No George Stark, Never George Stark Pangpo may not be a FBI magician, but that doesn't mean he's big enough to believe that. They might have caught that dog in New York Bastard, maybe this psychopath is coming back to Maine this summer for vacation. If he comes back, Pangbo will shoot him.He didn't want to waste time talking about these things now. "Time will tell, I think," he mumbled, "for now, I advise you both to keep your opinion of last night—this guy thinks he's George Stark, he's logical—crazy logic—he starts where Stark is officially buried." "If you don't even admit the idea of ​​mental space, then you're done," Tad said. "You can't reason with this guy—Pump, you can't beg him. You can ask him to forgive—if If he gives you time - it's no use. If you don't pay attention when you approach him, he'll turn you into shark pie." "I'll talk to your doctor," said Pangbo, "and the doctor who operated on you when you were a kid, I don't know what it's going to do, or how it's going to help this thing, But I'm going to do it. Otherwise, I'm taking a risk." Ted smiled without humor. "From my point of view, it is true. My wife, children and I will all join you in this adventure." three Fifteen minutes later, a neat blue and white sealed pickup pulled into Tad's house and pulled up behind Pangbo's car.It looked like a communications van, and it was, though it had "Maine State Police" written in lowercase on one side. The two technicians walked up to the door, introduced themselves, apologized for being late (an apology that meant nothing to Ted and Liz since they had no idea these two guys were coming), and asked Ted if he would Sign the document they hold in their hand.Ted skimmed through it quickly and saw that it gave them the right to put a recording and tracking device on his phone, and the recording wasn't allowed to be used in court. Ted signed quickly, while Alan Pangble and a technician watched. "Does this tracking device really work?" Ted asked the two technicians a few minutes later, as Pangbo left for Orono.Talking seems to be important, and the technicians fell silent after taking back the files. "Yes." One of them replied.He picked up the microphone of the living room phone, and quickly pried open the plastic inner sleeve of the microphone, "We can trace the source of any phone in the world, it's not like the old-fashioned tracking devices you see in movies, which only You can only track the caller while he's still on the line. As long as this end stays on the line—" He shakes the phone, which now looks like a sci-fi robot after it's been destroyed by a ray weapon—"We can track the The source of the call, which is often a pay phone in a shopping mall." "You are right," said his companion.He was fiddling with the phone socket, unplugging it from the base, "You still have a phone upstairs?" "Two," said Tad, beginning to feel as if he were dreaming, "one in my study and one in my bedroom." "Do they have their own separate lines?" "No—we only have one line. Where do you put the tape recorder?" "Probably in the basement," said the first man absently.He was plugging a phone cord into a board studded with spring-loaded connectors, his voice tinged with impatience. Tad walks away with his hand on Liz's belt, wondering if anyone understands that all this high technology can't stop George Stark.Stark was there, maybe resting, maybe already on his way. What on earth was he going to do if no one believed him?How on earth is he supposed to protect his family?Is there a way?He mused, and when he couldn't think of anything, he just listened to himself.Sometimes—not always, but sometimes—the answer will come. But not this time.He was delighted to find himself suddenly sexually aroused, trying to coax Liz upstairs--when he remembered that the state police technician was going to be there soon, installing more mysteries on his antiquated telephone wires. Not even sex, he thought.So what do we do? But the answer is simple: they wait, and that's all they can do. They didn't have to wait long for the dire news: Stark killed Rick Cowley after all--he attacked two technicians who were fiddling with Rick's phone The two men in the living room of the Montes' home did the same, then planted a bomb on the door.When Rick turns the key, the door explodes. It was Pang Bo who broke the news to them.He had driven less than three miles along the road to Orono when he heard the explosion on the radio and turned back immediately. "You told us Rick was safe," Liz said.Her voice was indistinct, as were her eyes, and even her hair seemed to lose its luster. "You actually made a promise." "I'm sorry, I was wrong." Pangbol, like Liz Beaumont, was in shock, but he tried not to let it show.He glanced at Tad, who was staring at him, eyes bright and still, a humorless smile on Tad's lips. Ted knows what I'm thinking.Pang Bo thought so, maybe he doesn't know all of my thoughts, but part of them.Like I'm covering something up, but I'm not.I meditate because of him, and I think he knows too much. "Your assumptions are now proven wrong," Ted said, "and most of our assumptions are right. Maybe you should go back and give George Stark a hard look. What do you think, Pangbo?" "You're probably right," Pangbol said, telling himself he was only saying that to comfort them both.However, George Stark's face began to emerge from behind Pangbourne's shoulder. Previously, Pombo had only glimpsed it through Ted Beaumont's description and could not see the face, but now Pombo could feel the face there. peep. "I'm going to talk to this Dr. Hood—" "Hummer," Thad said, "George Humer." "Thanks, I'm going to talk to him to get some context. If the FBI takes over, would you two like me to visit you later?" "I don't know about Ted, I'd love to," Liz said. Ted nodded. "I'm sorry about the whole thing, but I'm most sorry that I promised you guys it was fine and then something happened," Pangbo said. "In this case, I think people will underestimate," Ted said, "and I'm telling you the truth -- at least I think it's true -- for one simple reason. If it's Stark, I think the end A lot of people would have underestimated him before." Pangbo looked at Ted, then at Liz, and then his eyes fell on Ted, followed by a long silence, during which there was only the sound of the police protecting Ted talking outside the door, and then Pangpo said : "You really believe it's that dog thing, don't you?" Ted nodded. "I believe so." "I don't," Liz said, and they both looked at her in surprise. "I don't believe it. I know." Pang Bo sighed and put his hands in his pockets. "There's one thing I want to know," he said, "if it's what you're saying...I don't believe it, I can't believe it...but if it's true, what does this guy want? Just revenge? " "Not at all," Ted said, "he wants what you or I would want if you or I were in his position: He doesn't want to die, and that's what he wants, and he doesn't want to die. I'm the only one who can He came back from the dead. If I can't, or don't want to... well... at least he can kill some people as backs."