Chapter 24 Chapter 23 Two Phones

one Alan Pangbo received two calls that brought him back to the heart of the matter.The first call came just after three o'clock, when Tad was filling up the Volkswagen at the gas station and Pangbo himself was getting ready to go out for a cup of coffee. Sheila Briam poked her head out of the dispatch room and called, "Pangbo? There's your pay phone—do you know a man named Hoof Brichard?" Pang Bo turned around abruptly: "I know! Take it in!" He ran back to the office and grabbed the phone just in time to hear Shera agree to pay. "Dr. Brichard? Dr. Brichard, is that you?"

"It's me." The voice was clear, but Pangbol was a little skeptical—the man didn't sound seventy, maybe forty, but not seventy. "Are you that Dr. Hoof Brichard who practiced in Bergenfield, New Jersey?" "Burgenfield, Turnerfly, Hackensack, Englewood . My wife has been outside, and when I just came back, I was in pain." "Ah, I'm so sorry. I want to thank you for calling, Doctor, your voice is much younger than I thought it would be." "That's fine," said Brichard, "but you should see the rest of me. I look like a crocodile walking on two legs. What can I do for you?"

Pang Bo had thought about it and decided to proceed with caution.Now he tucks the phone between his ear and shoulder, leans back in his chair, and makes animal shadows on the wall. "I'm investigating a murder here," he said, "of a native named Homer Gamazi. The murder may involve a witness, and the circumstances are delicate, Dr. Britchard. Cause There are two: first, he is famous, and second, some of his symptoms are familiar to you. Because you operated on him twenty-eight years ago, he had a brain tumor. I worry that if the brain tumor recurs, his testimony may Very unbelievable—”

"Ted Beaumont," interrupted Brichard at once, "whatever his symptoms are, I suspect a recurrence of the original brain tumor." "How did you know it was Beaumont?" "Because I saved his life in 1960," Brichard said.Then he added with unconscious arrogance: "If it weren't for me, he wouldn't have written a single book because he'd be dead before he was twelve. I've been following him since he nearly won the National Book Award for his first book." Looking at his creations. I glanced at the picture on the cover and was sure it was the same person. The face changed, but the eyes remained the same, extraordinary eyes, I should call them dreamy eyes. Of course, I knew He lives in Maine, because there was an article in the Popular magazine just before I was on leave."

He paused for a moment, and then casually said a startling remark, which Pangpo couldn't react for a moment. "You say he witnessed a murder? Are you sure you don't suspect that he himself did it?" "Oh me……" "I'm just speculating," continued Brichard, "because people with brain tumors often do weird things in proportion to their intelligence. But the kid didn't have a brain tumor at all—at least not in the usual sense. Brain tumor on the brain. This is an extraordinary case, extremely abnormal. I have only read three cases of the same case since 1960 - two after I retired. He had a standard neurological examination ?"

"I did." "The results of it?" "It's normal." "I'm not surprised," said Brichard, after a moment's silence, "You're not telling me the whole truth, young man, are you?" Pang Bo stopped being a shadow animal and sat up from his chair: "Yes, I guess so. But I'd like to know what you mean by saying that he doesn't have a 'brain tumor in the usual sense'. I know very well that the doctor kept it secret for the patient. Rules, and I don't know if you can trust someone who's talking to you on the phone for the first time, but I hope you can trust me, I'm on Ted's side, and I'm sure Ted would want you to say I want to know I don't have time for Tad to call you and agree, Doctor—I need to know now."

Pangbol was surprised to find that it was true—or he believed it to be.He was starting to feel nervous, that something was going to happen, he didn't know what - but it would soon be. "I can tell you the case," said Brichard calmly. "I have repeatedly considered contacting Beaumont, at least telling him what happened in the hospital after his operation. I think he would be interested." "What happened?" "I'll tell you, I promise you. I didn't tell his parents what the surgery found because it didn't matter, and I don't want to deal with them anymore, especially his dad. That guy should be in a cave, for life In company with the beast. That's when I decided to just tell them what they wanted to hear and get rid of them as much as I could. Of course, time was a factor. Doctors lost touch with their patients. When Helga showed me his first book , I thought about writing to him and thought about it a few times, but I also get the feeling that he might not believe me...or care...or he might think I'm crazy. I don't know a famous person, but I sympathize with them— —I suspect they lived a cautious, fragmented, fearful life. Let the past go, it seems easier. So I have not contacted him until now. As my grandchildren often say, it is a hallucination .”

"What's wrong with Ted? Why did he come to you?" "Vertigo, headaches, phantom voices, and finally..." "Fantasy voice?" "Yeah—but you should hear me out, Sheriff." Pangbourne heard the unconscious arrogance in his voice again. "Ok." "At the end there were seizures. All of them were caused by a little piece of stuff in the front lobe of the brain. We had surgery and thought it was a brain tumor. But the brain tumor turned out to be Ted Beaumont's twin brother. " "what!" "It's true," Brichard said, sounding delighted by Pangbo's shock. "It's not very abnormal—twins are often annexed in the womb, sometimes not completely—but this time the position is abnormal, and the rate at which the foreign tissue grows is abnormal. This tissue is usually quiescent. I believe Ted The problem is caused by premature development."

"Wait," said Pangbo, "wait a minute." Pangpo had read about "psychic shock" in books, but this was the first time he had experienced this feeling. "Are you telling me that Ted is a twin, but he... he somehow... ate his brother?" "Or sister," Brichard said, "but I doubt he's a brother, because annexation is rare in fraternal twins. That's based on statistical frequency, not unbreakable fact, but I believe it is. Since identical is always the same sex, then the answer to your question is yes. I believe Ted Beaumont ate his brother in his mother's womb."

"My God!" whispered Pangbol, who had never heard anything so terrible—or so strange—in his life. "You sound disgusting," said Dr. Brichard cheerfully, "but it doesn't have to be, and you should put it in context. We're not talking about Cain stoning Abel. It's not murder, it's just some biological rule at work that we don't understand, maybe a bad signal, triggered by something in the mother's endocrine system. To be precise, we haven't even talked about it Fetus, at the time of annexation, there were two masses of tissue in Mrs. Beaumont's uterus, which may not even be human-like, and might as well be called living amphibians. The larger, stronger, and weaker one pressed over and encased it ...into oneness."

"Sounds like a fucking bug," Pangbol whispered. "Really? Kind of. Anyway, the annexation wasn't complete, and the annexed twin kept a piece intact. This foreign body -- I can't think of any other name -- and Ted Beaumont's brain Tissue tangled up. For some reason, after the child was eleven years old, this foreign body became active and began to grow, and the brain couldn't hold it. Therefore, it needed to be removed like a cancerous tumor, which we did, very successful." "Like a cancer?" Pangbol said, both disgusted and fascinated. Various thoughts flitted through his mind.These are dark thoughts, as dark as bats on top of an abandoned church.Only one thought was coherent: "He's two people—he's always been two people. Any man or woman who creates for a living must. One lives in the normal world...the other creates the world. They're two Individuals. Always at least two." "I'm going to remember this unusual case anyway," Brichard said. "It wasn't abnormal per se, it's common in people with brain tumors or epilepsy, and it's called sensory aura. But shortly after surgery, There has been a strange bird incident. Burgenfield Hospital was attacked by sparrows." "What do you mean by that?" "Sounds absurd, doesn't it?" Brichard sounded smug. "I wouldn't have brought it up if it hadn't been documented." The Burgenfield Courier even reported it on the front page, and Photo attached. On October 28, 1960, just after two o'clock in the afternoon, a large flock of sparrows flew into the sides of the hospital, which was then the Intensive Care Unit, where Ted was of course sent after surgery." "Many windows were broken and maintenance workers removed three hundred dead sparrows afterward. The Courier article quoted an ornithologist who I remember pointing out that the Sparrows may be attracted to sunlight reflecting off the glass." "That's nonsense," Pangbol said. "Birds only hit glass when they can't see them." "Remember the interviewer mentioned this, and the ornithologist pointed out that a flock of birds seemed to share a kind of telepathy—if birds could talk about minds. One of the birds decides to hit the glass, and the rest may follow suit. I wasn't in the hospital when it happened—I've checked him out and I'm sure his vital signs are stable—" "Vital signs?" "Just pulse, respiration, temperature and blood pressure, sheriff. Then I left to play golf. But I know people on both sides of the hospital are terrified. Two people were scratched by flying glass. I can take birds An anthropologist’s explanation, but I am still very uneasy. Because I understand that Ted’s sensory aura does not refer to general birds, but to a specific bird: the sparrow.” "The sparrows are flying again." Pang Bo whispered, his voice was dazed and frightened. "What did you say, Sheriff?" "It's nothing, you go on." "A day later, I asked him about his symptoms. After surgery to eradicate the cause of the sensory aura, there was sometimes localized amnesia, but he didn't. He remembers very well, seeing and hearing sparrows. They were everywhere, he said. Sparrows, on the house, in the lawn and in the street, where he lived in Rijwick. "I got interested and looked at his medical records and compared it to the reports of events. It was 2:50 when the sparrows hit the hospital, and Ted woke up at 2, maybe earlier." Brichard After a pause, he added: "Actually, a nurse in the intensive care unit said that it was the sound of breaking glass that woke him up." "Interesting." Pang Bo said softly. "Yeah," said Brichard, "it's interesting. I haven't talked about it in years, Sheriff Pombo. Does it help?" "I don't know," said Pombo frankly. "Maybe. Dr. Britchard, maybe you didn't get it all out--I mean, if you didn't, maybe it started growing again." "You said he had a test. Did it include a CAT scan?" "include." "Of course he had X-rays." "right." "If those tests don't turn up anything, it's because there's nothing to check. In my case, I believe we removed the foreign body altogether." "Thank you, Dr. Britchard." He didn't know what to say, his lips didn't work. "Will you tell me in detail what happened when this is over, Sheriff? I have been very frank with you, so this request does not seem excessive. I am very curious." "If I could, I would tell you." "That's all I ask. I'll let you do your job, and I'll go on my vacation." "I hope you and your wife are having a good time." Brichard sighed: "At my age, I have to work really hard to play well, Sheriff. We used to love camping, but I think we'll stay home next year." "Thank you for taking the time to call me back." "You're welcome. I miss my job, Sergeant Pombo. Not because of the mysteries of surgery—I don't care for that—but because of the mysteries of the brain, which was exciting then." "I suppose so," agreed Pangbol, thinking that it would be nice if his life now had a little less mystery about the brain. "I'll contact you when it's over." "Thank you, Sheriff." He paused, then said, "You're concerned about this, aren't you?" "yes." "I remember the boy as being very cute. He was terrified, but cute. What is he now?" "A good guy, I think," Pangbol said. "Maybe a little cold, a little withdrawn, but generally a good guy." Then he repeated: "I think so." "Thank you. I won't bother you anymore, Sheriff Pombo." The phone clicked, and Pang Bo slowly put the phone back to its original place.He leaned on the back of the chair, bent his nimble fingers on the wall into the shape of a big black bird spreading its wings, and remembered a line from "The Wizard of Oz", which kept echoing in his mind: "I Really believe in ghosts, I really believe in ghosts, I really, really, really believe in ghosts!" That's what the Cowardly Lion said, right? The question is, what does he really believe? It's easier for him to think about things he doesn't believe in.He didn't believe that Ted Beaumont had murdered anyone, or that Ted had written that cryptic sentence on anyone's wall. So how did it end up on the wall? very simple.Dr. Britchard flew east from Ford LaMarie, killed Frederick Clausen, wrote on his wall "The Sparrow Flies Again," and then flew from Washington, D.C. to New York, with His favorite scalpel had picked Miriam Cowley's lock and sanded her, with the scalpel because he missed the mysteries of surgery. No, of course not, but Brichard wasn't the only one who knew that Tad had—what he called it—a sense of aura.True, it didn't appear in the Popular article, but— "You've forgotten fingerprints and voice ripples. You've forgotten Tad and Liz's calm, unassuming affirmation that George Stark was real, that he murdered to keep himself alive. You're doing your best to avoid the fact that ie: You start to believe that all this could be real. You tell them it's insane to believe in ghosts vengeful and, moreover, the ghost of someone who never existed. But maybe writers create ghosts; writers and actors, fine art Together, they are the only recognized wizards in our society. They create imaginary worlds, fill them with imaginary people, and invite us to join them. We listen to them and do so, don't we? We pay to do so. " Pang Bo clenched his hands tightly, stretched out his reddish fingers, and made a movement of a bird flying towards the sunlit wall.a sparrow. "You can't explain why a swarm of sparrows attacked Bergenfield Hospital thirty years ago, any more than you can explain how two people can have the same fingerprints and voice ripples, but now you know that Ted Beaumont shared his Mother's womb, with a stranger." Hoof Brichard mentioned premature development. Allan Pangborn suddenly found himself wondering if the growth of that foreign tissue had something to do with it. He wondered if that foreign tissue had grown when Ted Beaumont started writing. two The intercom on the desk rang, startling him. It was Shera again. "Martin the Beard is on line one, He wants to talk to you. " "Beard? What the hell is he trying to do?" "I don't know, he won't tell me." "My God," thought Pangbo, "I've had enough." Beard has a large property off Route 2, about four miles from Castle Rock Lake.The place had been a thriving dairy farm, but that was when Beard was still called Albert.His children have grown up, his wife abandoned him ten years ago, and Huzi now tends twenty-seven acres of land by himself, which has gradually fallen into disrepair.His house and barn are on the west side of the property, where Highway 2 turns off into the Lake District.The barn was a large house that had once housed forty cows, and the roof was now deeply dented, the paint was peeling, and most of the windows were nailed shut with cardboard.For forty years, Pangbo and Fire Chief Driver Hartland waited for Martin's house and barn to be reduced to ashes. "Do you want me to tell him you're not here?" Sheila asked. "Clatt just came in. I can put him on the phone." Pangbo thought for a moment, then sighed, and shook his head. "I'll talk to him, Sheila. Thanks." He picked up the phone and held it between his ear and shoulder. "Director Pang Bo?" "I'm the Sheriff." "This is Martin Beard, and I'm on Highway 2. There might be something wrong here, Sheriff." "Oh?" Pang Bo pulled another phone on the table to him.This is a direct line to other offices in the town office building.His fingers kept tapping on the square key with the number 4 on it.All he had to do was pick up the phone and press the button to connect to Driver Hartland. "What happened?" "Ah, Sheriff, I don't know a damn thing. If it was a car I knew, I'd call it a luxury car theft, but no. I've never seen that car before, but it's from I drive out of the barn." Pang Bo pushed the dial back to its original place.God favors fools and drunks -- a fact he's learned over the years of police work -- and Beard's house and barn still don't burn down, despite throwing cigarette butts everywhere when he's drunk.All I can do now, Pangbol thought, is sit here and listen to him finish, and then I'll make my judgment as to whether it's real or Beard's fantasy. He found that his hand was gesticulating the movement of a sparrow flying on the wall again, so he stopped immediately. "What car was driven from your barn, Albert?" Pangbol asked patiently.Everyone in Castle Rock called Albert Beard, and would try to call him that if Pangborn was in town another ten or twenty years. "Tell you, I've never seen it before," Bearded Martin said with obvious disdain. "That's why I called you, Chief. That car is definitely not mine." Pang Bo finally began to form a picture in his mind.With the cows, kids, and wife gone, Beard Martin didn't need a lot of cash.He makes his money in that weird way.Pangbol was sure that a bundle or two of marijuana stashed in the top haystack of Beard's barn every few months was just one of Beard's little things.He sometimes thought that Huzi should be arrested for harboring and attempting to sell drugs, but he believed that Huzi didn't take drugs himself, let alone use his brains to sell them. He probably made one or two hundred dollars by providing storage places.Even in a small place like Castle Rock, there are more important things to do than apprehend a drunk harboring drugs. Beard's other storage service -- which is at least legal -- is the use of barns to store cars for summer visitors.Beard's barn was a permanent parking garage when Pangborn first came to town.You go into the barn and you see fifteen cars, mostly owned by people with cottages in the Lake District, parked where the cows used to winter.Beard tore down the partition wall to free up a large garage where the cars were parked side by side, soaked in the fragrance of straw during the long autumn and winter, and the old chaff falling from the top of the barn, making the shiny cars Surface tarnishes. Beard's business has plummeted over the years.Pangbo guessed that this was the result of word of his habit of throwing cigarette butts around.No one wants to lose their car in a barn fire, even if it's just an old summer car.The last time Pangborn went to Beard's, there were only two cars in the barn: a rusty, battered car and Ted Beaumont's old Ford. It's Ted again. For a few days, it seemed like everything was falling on Ted Beaumont. Pang Bo sat up straighter, and subconsciously pulled the phone over. "Not Ted Beaumont's old Ford?" he asked Beard. "Are you sure?" "Of course I'm sure it's not an old Ford, absolutely not, it's a black Toronado." Pang Bo's mind flashed...but he didn't know why.Not too long ago, someone had told him about the black Toronado, but now he couldn't remember who or when...but always. "I happened to be in the kitchen, making myself a glass of iced lemonade," Beard continued, "and I saw that car dumped out of the barn. My first thought was that I never kept that car. The second thought was who would get it there because the barn door was locked and only I had a key." "What about the people who parked in the barn? Don't they have keys?" "No, sir!" The thought seemed to offend Beard. "Did you see the license plate number?" "Of course I can see!" Beard cried. "Didn't I have binoculars on the kitchen window?" Pumble and Driver Heartland had been in the barn on patrol, but never in the kitchen (and didn't want to), so he said, "Ah, yes, I forgot the binoculars." "But I haven't forgotten!" Beard said proudly and rudely, "Do you have a pencil?" "Of course, Albert." "Director, why don't you call me Beard like others?" Pangbol sighed: "Okay, Beard. Why don't you call me Sheriff?" "Whatever you say. Do you want the license plate now?" "Say it." "First point, that's a Mississippi license plate," Beard said with triumph in his voice, "what on earth do you think about that?" Pang Bo didn't quite know how to look at this... It was just a third flash in his mind, and this time it was brighter than the previous two.A Toronado car.Mississippi.a small town.Oxford?Is it Oxford?Like the town two towns away? "I don't know," said Pangbol, and added, to cater to Beard, "that sounds very suspicious." "You're so fucking right!" Beard cheered.Then he cleared his throat, serious again, "Well, the Mississippi license plate number is 62284. Did you hear that?" "62284." "62284, yes, you can take that number to that shitty bank and check it out. Very suspicious! Oh yes! That's what I thought! God ate a can of beans!" Thinking of the way God chewed beans, Pang Bo had to cover the microphone and pause for a while. "So," said Beard, "what will you do, Chief?" I want to get this conversation over while I'm clear, Pangbol thought.That's the first thing I want to do, plus I'm trying to remember who mentioned— At this time, his whole body suddenly became cold, his arms were covered with goose bumps, and even the back of his neck was tense like a drumhead. On the phone with Ted—shortly after the maniac called from Miriam Cowley's house to Ted's house—the night when he started killing. He heard Tad say: He moved with his mother from New Hampshire to Oxford, Mississippi... His southern accent was almost recognizable. When Ted described George Stark on the phone, what else did he say? One last note: he probably drives a black toronado, I don't know what year it was built, one of those big horsepower ones, black, it's probably a Mississippi plate, but he definitely swapped it out . "I guess he's too busy to change in time." Pang Bo whispered.Goosebumps were still creeping up on him. "Boss, what did you say?" "Nothing, Albert, talking to himself." "I used to fucking say it meant you were going to get rich, maybe I should start talking to myself." Pangbo suddenly remembered that Ted had added a detail at the end. "Albert—" "Call me Beard, Chief. I told you so." "Beard, did you see the bumper sticker? You might have noticed—" "How do you know this? Are you looking for that car, chief?" Beard said eagerly. "Don't worry about it, Beard, this is the official business of the police, do you see what is written on it?" "Of course I did," Beard said. "It said: 'Noble bastard'. Can you believe it?" Pangbol hung up slowly, believing it, but telling himself it proved nothing...except that Tedborough Monte was crazy.It would be foolish to think that what Beard sees proves something supernatural. Then he thought of voice ripples and fingerprints, of hundreds of sparrows attacking the windows of Burgenfield Hospital, and he shuddered for almost a full minute. three Alain Pangble was neither a coward nor a superstitious countryman who gestured to crows to keep pregnant women away from the fresh milk lest they make it curdle.He's not a bumpkin who won't be swayed by the flattery of a city hustler; he's not a newborn kid.He believed in logic and rational explanations.So, when the shaking was over, he put his phone book in front of him and looked up Ted's number.He found that the phone number in the book was the same as he remembered, and he couldn't help being angry and funny.Apparently, Castle Rock's brilliant "writer friend" had taken root in his mind deeper than he had imagined. "In that car it must be Ted. If you eliminate the impossible, what's left? He described it. How about an old radio quiz show? Name it and it's you of. Burgenfield Hospital was actually attacked by sparrows. " There are other problems—too many problems. Ted and his family are under the protection of the Maine State Police.If they decided to pack up and come here for the weekend, the state troopers should give him a call, partly as a reminder and partly as a courtesy.But since the state troopers had made protective surveillance in Ludlow a routine, they would certainly have discouraged Ted from making the trip.If the trip had been impulsive, they would have tried to dissuade him. Then there must be something Beard didn't see -- the police car protecting them.If they do decide to travel, the police send one or more vehicles after them.It's entirely possible that they're out on a trip, since they're not prisoners after all. People with brain tumors often do weird things. If that's Ted's Toronado, if he's gone to Beard's to drive it away, if he's alone, then come to a conclusion that makes Pangbo sad because he has a crush on Ted.The conclusion is that Ted intentionally abandons his family and the police who protect him. "If that's the case, the state police should call me. They'll send out a detailed briefing and they should understand that's one of the places he might come." He called the Beaumont home.Someone picked up the phone at the first ring, and someone he didn't know answered the phone, but as soon as the other party spoke, he knew it was a policeman. "Hi, this is the Beaumonts." The voice was wary and sounded ready to ask a barrage of questions. What happened?Pangbol thought, and the next thought was: They're dead.Someone went there and killed the whole family, fast, quick, ruthless, like everyone else.Protection, interrogation, phone tracking devices... none of it worked. None of these thoughts came out as he answered. "I'm Alan Pumppole," he said tersely. "Sheriff of Castle Rock. I'm looking for Ted Beaumont. Who are you?" There was a moment of silence, and then the voice answered, "I'm Steve Harrison, Sheriff. I'm the Maine State Police. I was about to call you, and I should have called you at least an hour ago. But here . . . things are terrible here. Why are you calling?" Pang Bo lied without thinking.He didn't ask himself why he did it, that question will be discussed later. "I'm calling to see how Ted is doing," he said. "It's been a while, and I want to know what's going on with them. I guess there's something wrong with you." "It's so big you can't believe it," said Harrison coldly. "Two of my men died, and we're sure it was Beaumont." "We're sure Beaumont did it." "The degree of bizarre behavior appears to be directly proportional to the patient's intelligence." Pang Bo felt the hallucinations of memory slipping quietly not only into his brain, but also into his whole body.Ted, always coming back to Ted.Of course, he's highly intelligent, weird, and by his own admission has symptoms of a brain tumor. "That kid doesn't have a brain tumor at all, you know." "If those inspections turn up nothing, it's because there's nothing to look into." "Forget brain tumors. You should be thinking about sparrows now—because sparrows are flying again." "What happened?" he asked Officer Harrison. "He nearly chopped Tom Chatterton and Jack Eddings to a pulp, that's what happened!" Harrison yelled, and Pumble was amazed at the level of his rage. "He brought the whole family, I want to catch that bastard!" "What...how did he escape?" "I don't have time to talk," Harrison said. "It's a fucking sad story, Sheriff. He drives a red and gray Chevrolet, a fucking monster, but we think he Must have dropped it somewhere, got another car. He's got a villa with you guys, you know the location and the terrain, don't you?" "Yes," said Pangbo, his mind racing.He looked at the clock on the wall. It was one minute to forty to three.Time, everything falls into time.He realized that he hadn't asked Bearded Martin what time it was when he saw the Toronado back out of the barn, and it seemed so unimportant then that it did now. "When did you let him slip, Officer Harrison?" He could sense Harrison was annoyed at the question, but he answered without anger or apology. "Around two-thirty. If that's the case, it will take him some time to change cars, and then he's going to Ludlow's house—" "Where did he slip away? How far from his home?" "Sheriff, I'd like to answer all your questions, but I don't have time. The point is if he drives to the villa - which seems impossible, but this guy is crazy, it's hard to say - he shouldn't be there yet, but he's very Arriving soon, he and his family. It would be great if you and your men would be there to meet him. If anything should come up, you would radio Henry Burton at Oxford, and we'd send out a lot of Reinforcements. Under no circumstances should you arrest him yourself. We reckon his wife is held hostage, and if she is not dead, the children as well." "Yeah, if he killed the cop on duty, he must've kidnapped his wife, right?" Pangbol agreed, thinking at the same time: If you could, you'd blame it on Ted, wouldn't you?Because your decision has been made and will not change.Hell, you can't even use your brain, and your mates are dead. He still has a lot of questions to ask, answers to which may lead to more -- but Harrison is right about one thing, there's no time. He hesitated, desperately wanting to ask Harrison the most important question, the most difficult to answer: Was Harrison sure that Ted would have had enough time to get to his house and kill the guards before the first police reinforcements arrived? , Robbed the whole family?But asking the question hits Harrison right where it hurts, because there is an accusation hidden in the question: You were remiss in letting Ted slip away. "Can I ask you to help, Sheriff?" Harrison asked, his voice sounding tired and annoyed now, and Pombo felt sympathy for him. "Okay. I'll send someone to monitor that place right away." "Excellent. Will you contact Oxford Police?" "Yes. Henry Burton is my friend." "Beaumont is dangerous, Sheriff, extremely dangerous. If he shows up, you must be careful." "I will." "Keep in touch with me." Harrison hung up the phone without even saying goodbye. Four His brain, which had been wallowing in routine, woke up and started asking...or trying to ask.Pangbo decided that he had no time to play by the rules, and that all possible lines must be cleared.He had the feeling that things had gotten to the point where certain lines were automatically shutting down. "At least call some of your people." But he wasn't going to do it.He would have called Norris Rijwick, but he was off duty and out of town.John was wounded and remained bedridden.Sit Thomas was out on patrol.Andy Clutterbuck is here, but Clutter is new, and this is troublesome. He wants to do it alone. You are crazy!Routine shouted in his head. “我也许会去那儿。”庞波大声说。他在电话中查到阿尔伯特·马丁的号码，给他打电话，问他第一次就该问的问题。 Fives “你看到托罗纳多从你谷仓出来时，是什么时候，胡子？”马丁一接电话他就问，同时想：他不会知道的，见鬼，我不敢相信他会看时间。 但胡子很快证明他错了。“刚过三点，局长。”然后又考虑了一下，“我看了看我的表。” “你直到——”庞波瞥了一眼日班记录，他已无意识地记下了胡子打电话的时间：“三点二十八分才打电话。” “不得不认真想一下，”胡子说，“人做事前总应该想想，局长，至少我是这么看的。在我给你打电话前，我到谷仓去看看开车的那个家伙是不是搞出什么别的麻烦。” trouble?庞波觉得有趣。胡子，也许你是去看看阁楼上的大捆大麻，对吗？ “他搞了吗？” “搞了什么？” “搞出麻烦了吗？” “没有，我相信没有。” “锁怎么样？” “开着的。”胡子简洁地说。 “砸开的？” “不，就挂在门鼻上，锁环开了。” “你认为是用钥匙打开的？” “不知道狗娘养的从哪儿弄到的，我认为他是从哪儿捡到的。” “他是一个人在车里？”庞波问，“你能分辨出来吗？” 胡子停下来想了想。“看不清楚，”他终于开口道，“我知道你的想法，局长——如果我能看清楚牌照和那该死的标语，我就应该能看清楚车里有几个人，但是太阳光照在玻璃上，我认为那不是普通玻璃，我认为上面有层颜色，不太深，但有一点儿颜色。” “好吧，胡子，谢谢。我们会查出来的。” “他已经离开这儿了，”胡子说，然后又迅速推断道，“但他应该在某个地方。” “你说得对。”庞波说，答应把最后结果告诉马丁，便挂了电话。他从桌子边站起来，看看钟。 三点，胡子说，刚过三点，因为我看了表。 庞波认为，泰德不可能在三个小时内，从鲁德娄赶到罗克堡，中间还加上很长一端绕回家的路，在此期间他劫走妻子和孩子，杀掉两个警察。如果从鲁德娄一直赶到这里，也许还有可能，但如果从别处赶到鲁德娄，在那里停留一下，然后再赶到这儿撬开锁，开走藏在胡子谷仓中的托罗纳多车，这则是绝不可能的。 假设别人在鲁德娄杀死警察，劫走泰德一家人呢？假设有人不需费劲甩掉保护的警察、换车和绕道呢？假设有人把丽兹·波蒙特和双胞胎塞进汽车，朝罗克堡开来呢？庞波认为只有他们才能刚巧在三点时到达，被胡子看到，他们可以毫不费力地做到这些。 警察认为这只能是泰德干的，但他们不知道托罗纳多车的事。 密西西比州的牌照，胡子说过。 按泰德虚构的乔治·斯达克就出生于密西西比州。如果泰德精神分裂，认为自己是斯达克，他可能会替自己弄辆黑色的托罗纳多车，以满足这种幻觉或幻想……但为了搞到牌照，他不仅要去密西西比州而且还要申请在那里居住。 “真愚蠢。他可以偷几块密西西比州车牌，或者买一套旧的。”胡子没有说牌照是哪一年的——他可能看不清楚，就是用望远镜也不行。 但那不是泰德的汽车，不可能是。如果是的话，丽兹会知道的。 也许丽兹不知道。如果他疯了，也许丽兹不知道。 还有锁着的门。泰德不砸开锁，怎么能进入谷仓呢？他是位作家和老师，不是窃贼。 备用钥匙，他内心低声说，但庞波不这么想。如果胡子时不时地在谷仓藏毒品，他一定会藏好钥匙，不管他怎么随地乱扔烟头。 最后一个问题：凶手。如果那辆黑色托罗纳多车一直藏在谷仓中，胡子怎么会从没见过呢？is it possible? 他抓起帽子，离开办公室，内心深处有个声音在低语：“考虑一下这种可能性，庞波。这是个很有趣的想法。你会笑的，你会笑破肚皮的。假设泰德从一开始就是对的呢？假设真有一个叫乔治·斯达克的怪物在四处游荡呢……他的生命是由泰德创造的，在他需要时便会产生。泰德可以控制创造的时间，但却控制不了地点，因为他们总是出现在与创造者有关的地方。所以斯达克须从泰德存车的地方把车开出来，就像他必须从泰德象征性埋掉他的坟墓中走出来一样。你不喜欢它？这不是很可笑吗？” 他不喜欢它，这也不可笑，一点儿也不可笑，它破坏了他所相信的一切。 他记起泰德说过的话。“我不知道在我写作时我是谁。那不确切，但也差不多。更令人吃惊的是，我现在才想起这句话。” “你是他，对吗？”庞波轻声说，“你是他，他是你，凶手就是这么长出来的。” 他打了个冷战，舍拉从调度室的打字机上抬起头，刚好看到。“这么热的天，你却发抖，你一定是感冒了。” “我想是病了，”庞波说，“注意电话，舍拉。小事转给托马斯，大事转给我。克拉特在哪儿？” “我在这儿！”克拉特的声音从厕所传来。“我大约四十五分钟后回来！”庞波冲他喊道，“你在我回来之前替我一下！” “你去哪儿，庞波？”克拉特从男厕所走出来，一边往裤子里塞衬衫。 “去湖边。”庞波含含糊糊地说，在克拉特或舍拉再问之前离开了，他自己也不细想他在干什么。像这样不说去处是很不好的，这不仅是自己找麻烦，简直等于去送死。 他在想：“麻雀又飞起”，但这不是真的，不可能是真的，应该有更合理的解释。 他一边开车出镇，一边竭力使自己相信这一点。他一生中从没遇到这么麻烦的事。 six 5号公路离胡子马丁农场的半英里处有个停车场。庞波拐了进去，一半是因为预感一半是因为突发奇想。预感很简单：无论有没有那辆黑色托罗纳多车，他们不可能从鲁德娄乘魔毯飞到这里，他们必须开车。那意味着周围应该有辆被抛弃的车。他在追捕的那家伙在用豪默·加马齐的车后，就把它扔到路边停车场，一个罪犯干了一次的事，他还会干第二次。 在拐弯处停着三辆车：一辆运啤酒的车，一辆新福特车，还有一辆灰扑扑的沃尔沃轿车。 他从巡逻车上下来，一位身穿绿色工作服的男人从厕所走出来，朝运啤酒车的驾驶室走去。他身材矮小，黑头发，窄肩膀，显然不是乔治·斯达克。 “警官。”他冲庞波敬了个礼。庞波冲他点点头，朝三位老妇人走去。她们坐在一张野餐桌旁，一边喝热水瓶中的咖啡，一边聊天。 “你好，警官，”一位老妇人说，“有什么要我们帮忙的吗？”要么是我们做错了什么？一丝焦虑掠过她的眼睛。 “我只想问问，那边的福特车和沃尔沃车是你们的吗？” “福特车是我的，”第二位妇人说，“我们都乘那辆车。沃尔沃车的情况我们一无所知。那车是不是没汽油了？我儿子虽然四十三岁了，也常常忘记灌汽油——” “跟汽油没关，夫人，”庞波露出职业警察的笑容，“你们没有看到这辆沃尔沃车开进来，是吗？” 她们摇摇头。 “你们几分钟前看到车主了吗？” “没有，”第三位妇人说，用又亮又小的老鼠眼看着他，“你在追踪吗，警官？” “你说什么，夫人？” “我是说，你在追捕一个罪犯。” “噢，”庞波说。有那么一瞬，他感到很不真实。他到这儿究竟想干什么呢？他究竟为什么想到这儿来呢？“不，夫人。我只是喜欢汽车。”伙计，这话听上去……真他妈的聪明。 “噢，”第一位妇人说，“我们没有看到任何人。你要喝杯咖啡吗，警官？我相信刚好还剩一杯。” “不，谢谢你。”庞波说，“祝你们过得愉快。” “也祝你愉快，警官。”她们三人异口同声地回答，这使庞波觉得更不真实了。 他回到沃尔沃车边，拉拉驾驶室的门，门开了。车里热烘烘的，说明它在这里停了很久。他向后排望去，看到座位下有一个盒子。他俯身从座位间把它拣起来。 盒子上写着“纸帕”两个字，他觉得好像有人往他胃里扔了只保龄球。 “这什么也说明不了，”常规和理智的声音立刻说道。“至少不一定是那样。我知道你在想什么：你想到了婴儿。但是，庞波，你在路边小摊买炸鸡时，他们也给你纸帕的。” but…… 庞波把纸帕放进上衣的口袋里，从车里走出来。他正要关上门，却又探身进去，想看看仪表盘下面，可站着看不清，只好跪下。 又一只保龄球扔进他的胃中。他发出一声沉闷的声音——就像被人猛击了一下。 点火线悬挂在那里，铜芯裸露着，有点儿弯曲。庞波知道，这弯曲是因为她们被人缠在一起过。这汽车短路过，而且看上去很严重。开车人把车停到这儿以后，扯开电线熄了火。 那么它是真的了……至少一部分是真的了，问题是有多少是真的。他开始觉得自己似乎在逼近一颗随时会爆炸的炸弹。 他返回巡逻车，上了车，把它发动起来，从架子上取下对话机。 “什么是真的？”常规和理智低声问。天哪，这声音令人发狂。“有人在波蒙特的湖边别墅？对——那可能是真的。一个叫乔治·斯达克的人把黑色的托罗纳多车开出胡子马丁的谷仓？还有呢，庞波？” 他几乎同时产生了两个想法。第一个想法是：如果他照哈里森说的那样，跟亨利·白顿联系，那么他可能永远搞不清这一切。湖畔路是条死胡同，波蒙特的别墅就在那里。州警察局会告诉他别一个人接近别墅，别单枪匹马去，因为他们怀疑劫持丽兹和双胞胎的那人至少杀了十几个人。他们会要封锁道路，但不可能有进一步的行动，同时他们会派出一队巡逻车，也许还有直升飞机，甚至驱逐舰和战斗机。 第二个想法涉及到斯达克。 他们没有考虑过斯达克，他们甚至不知道斯达克这个人。 但是，如果斯达克是真的，那会怎么样呢？ 如果是这样的话，庞波相信派一群对湖畔路不熟悉的州警察去那里，就像把他们送进绞肉机一样。 他把对讲机放回原处。他要去，他要一个人去。这也许是错误的，但他想这么干。他可以容忍自己的愚蠢，天知道他以前干过蠢事，他不能容忍的是还没弄清真实情况前，就贸然通过无线电请求援助，这有可能使一个女人和两个婴儿丧命。 庞波开出停车场，向湖畔路驶去。