按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
d…and…grain store…what served in Momson as downtown。 What do you suppose ever happened there？'
Herbert…or…Harold looked at the picture politely。 Just a little town with a few stores and a few houses。 Some of them were falling down； probably from the weight of snow in the winter。 Could be any town in the country。 Driving through most of them； you wouldn't know if anyone was alive after eight o'clock when they rolled up the sidewalks。 The old man had certainly gone dotty in his old age。 Herbert…or…Harold thought about an old aunt of his who had bee convinced in the last two years of her life that her daughter had killed her pet parakeet and was feeding it to her in the meat loaf。 Old people got funny ideas。
'Very interesting；' he said； looking up。 'But I don't think。 。 。 Mr Burke？ Mr Burke； is something wrong？ Are you。 。 。 nurse！ Hey； nurse！'
Matt's eyes had grown very fixed。 One hand gripped the top sheet of the bed。 The other was pressed against his chest。 His face had gone pallid； and a pulse beat in the center of his forehead。
Too soon； he thought。 No； too soon …
Pain； smashing into him in waves； driving him down into darkness。 Dimly he thought： Watch that last step； it's a killer。
Then； falling。
Herbert…or…Harold ran out of the room； knocking over his chair and spilling a pile of books。 The nurse was already ing； nearly running herself。
'It's Mr Burke；' Herbert…or…Harold told her。 He was still holding the book； with his index finger inserted at the picture of Momson； Vermont。
The nurse nodded curtly and entered the room。 Matt was lying with his head half off the bed； his eyes closed。
'Is he…？' Herbert…or…Harold asked timidly。 It was a plete question。
'Yes； I think so；' the nurse answered； at the same time pushing the button that would summon the ECV unit。 'You'll have to leave now。'
She was calm again now that all was known； and had time to regret her lunch； left half…eaten。
40
'But there's no pool hall in the Lot；' Mark said。 'The closest one is over in Gates Falls。 Would he go there？'
'No；' Jimmy said。 'I'm sure he wouldn't。 But some people have pool tables or billiard tables in their houses。'
'Yes； I know that。'
'There's something else；' Jimmy said。 'I can almost get it。'
He leaned back； closed his eyes； and put his hands over them。 There was something else； and in his mind he associated it with plastic。 Why plastic？ There were plastic toys and plastic utensils for picnics and plastic drop covers to put over your boat when winter came …
And suddenly a picture of a pool table draped in a large plastic dust cover formed in his mind； plete with sound track； a voiceover that was saying； I really ought to sell it before the felt gets mildew or something…Ed Craig says it might mildew…but it was Ralph's 。 。 。
He opened his eyes。 'I know where he is；' he said。 'I know where Barlow is。 He's in the basement of Eva Miller's boardinghouse。' And it was true； he knew it was。 It felt incontrovertibly right in his mind。
Mark's eyes flashed brilliantly。 'Let's go get him。'
'Wait。'
He went to the phone； found Eva's number in the book； and dialed it swiftly。 It rang with no answer。 Ten rings； eleven； a dozen。 He put it back in its cradle； frightened。 There had been at least ten roomers at Eva's； many of them old men； retired。 There was always someone around。 Always before this。
He looked at his watch。 It was quarter after three and time was racing； racing。
'Let's go；' he said。
'What about Ben？'
Jimmy said grimly； 'We can't call。 The line's out at your house。 If we go straight to Eva's； there'll be plenty of daylight left if we're wrong。 If we're right； we'll e back and get Ben and stop his fucking clock。'
'Let me put my shirt on again；' Mark said； and ran down the hall to the bathroom。
41
Ben's Citro？n was still sitting in Eva's parking lot； now plastered with wet leaves from the elms that shaded the square of gravel。 The wind had picked up but the rain had stopped。 The sign that said 'Eva's Rooms' swung and squeaked in the gray afternoon。 The house had an eerie silence about it； a waiting quality； and Jimmy made a mental connection and was chilled by it。 It was just like the Marsten House。 He wondered if anyone had ever mitted suicide here。 Eva would know； but he didn't think Eva would be talking 。 。 。 not anymore。
'It would be perfect；' he said aloud。 'Take up residence in the local boardinghouse and then surround yourself with your children；'
'Are you sure we shouldn't get Ben？'
'Later。 e on。'
They got out of the car and walked toward the porch。
The wind pulled at their clothes； riffled their hair。 All the shades were drawn； and the house seemed to brood over them。
'Can you smell it？' Jimmy asked。
'Yes。 Thicker than ever。'
'Are you up to this？'
'Yes；' Mark said firmly。 'Are you。
'I hope to Christ I am；' Jimmy said。
They went up the porch steps and Jimmy tried the door。 It was unlocked。 When they stepped into Eva Miller's pulsively neat big kitchen； the odor smote them both； like an open garbage pit…yet dry； as with the smoke of years。
Jimmy remembered his conversation with Eva…it had been almost four years ago； just after he had begun practicing。 Eva had e in for a check…up。 His father had had her for a patient for years； and when Jimmy took his place； even running things out of the same Cumberland office； she had e to him without embarrassment。 They had spoken of Ralph； dead twelve years even then； and she had told him that Ralph's ghost was still in the house every now and then she would turn up something new and temporarily forgotten in the attic or a bureau drawer。 And of course there was the pool table in the basement。 She said that she really ought to get rid of it； it was just taking up space she could use for something else。 But it had been Ralph's and she just couldn't bring herself to take out an ad in the paper or call up the local radio 'Yankee Trader' program。
Now they walked across the kitchen to the cellar door and Jimmy opened it。 The stench was thick； powering。 He thumbed the light switch but got no response。 He would have broken that； of course。
'Look around；' he told Mark。 'She's got to have a flashlight； or candles。'
Mark began nosing around； pulling open drawers and looking into them。 He noticed that the knife rack over the sink was empty； but thought nothing of it at the time。 His heart was thudding with painful slowness； like a muffled drum。 He recognized the fact that he was now on the far； ragged edges of his endurance； at the outer limits。 His mind did not seem to be thinking； but only reacting。 He kept seeing movement at the corners of his eyes and jerking his head around to look； seeing nothing。 A war veteran might have recognized the symptoms which signaled the onset of battle fatigue。
He went out into the hall and looked through the dresser there。 In the third drawer he found a long fourcell flashlight。 He took it back to the kitchen。 'Here it is； J…'
There was a rattling noise； followed by a heavy thump。 The cellar door stood open。
And the screams b