sk.cujo-第57节

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shion。　Two　summers　ago　he　and　Billy　and　Sheriff
Bannerman　had　pulled　a　man　out　of　a　potato…grading　machine　in　pieces；　and　that　had　been　one　to　tell　your　grandchildren　about。　But　he　had　not　seen　a　homicide　since　the　Hendrasen　girl；　and　he　did　not　want　to　see　one　now。
He　didn't　know　whether　to　be　relieved　or　disgusted　by　what　he　found　on　the　Trentons'　bedspread。
He　went　back　to　his　car　and　called　in。
When　the　telephone　rang；　Vic　and　Roger　were　both　up；　sitting　in　front　of　the　TV；　not　talking　much；　smoking　their　heads　off。　Frankenstein；　the　original　film；　was　on。　It　was　twenty　minutes　after　one。
Vic　grabbed　the　phone　before　it　had　pleted　its　first　ring。　'Hello？　Donna？　Is　that　…'
'Is　this　Mr。　Trenton？'　A　man's　voice。
'Yes？'
'This　is　Sheriff　Bannerman；　Mr。　Trenton。　I'm　afraid　I　have　some　rather　upsetting　information　for　you。　I'm　sor　…'
'Are　they　dead？'　Vic　asked。　Suddenly　he　felt　totally　unreal　and　two…dimensional；　no　more　real　than　the　face　of　an　extra　glimpsed　in　the　background　of　an　old　movie　such　as　the　one　he　and　Roger　had　been　watching。　The　question　came　out　in　a　perfectly　conversational　tone　of　voice。　From　the　corner　of　his　eye　he　saw　Roger's　shadow　move　as　he　stood　up　quickly。　It　didn't　matter。　Nothing　else　did；　either。　In　the　space　of　the　few　seconds　that　had　passed　since　he　had　answered　the　phone；　he　had　had　a　chance　to　get　a　good　look　behind　his　life　and　had　seen　it　was　all　stage　scenery　and　false　fronts。
'Mr。　Trenton；　Officer　Fisher　was　dispatched　…'
'Dispense　with　the　official　bullshit　and　answer　my　question。　Are　they　dead？'　He　turned　to　Roger。　Roger's　face　was　gray　and　wondering。　Behind　him；　on　the　TV；　a　phony　windmill　turned　against　a　phony　sky。　'Rog；　got　a　cigarette？。'　Roger　handed　him　one。
'Mr。　Trenton；　are　you　still　there？'　'Yes。　Are　they　dead？'
'We　have　no　idea　where　your　wife　and　son　are　as　of　right　now；'　Bannerman　said；　and　Vic　suddenly　felt　all　of　his　guts　drop　back　into　place。　The　world　took　on　a　little　of　its　former　color。　He　began　to　tremble。　The　unlit　cigarette　jittered　between　his　lips。
'What's　going　on？　What　do　you　know？　You're　Bannerman；　you　said？'
'Castle　County　Sheriff；　that's　right。　And　I'll　try　to　put　you　in　the　picture；　if　you'll　give　me　a　minute。'
'Yes；　okay。'　Now　he　was　afraid；　everything　seemed　to　be　going　too　fast。
'Officer　Fisher　was　dispatched　to　your　home　at　Eightythree　Larch　Street　as　per　your　request　at　twelve　thirty…four　this　morning。　He　ascertained　that　there　was　no　car　in　the　driveway　or　in　the　garage。　He　rang　the　front　doorbell　repeatedly；　and　when　there　was　no　answer；　he　let　himself　in　using　the　key　over　the　porch　eave。　He　found　that　the　house　had　been　severely　vandalized。　Furnishings　were　overturned；　liquor　bottles　broken；　soap　powder　had　been　poured　over　the　floor　and　the　built…ins　of　the　kitchen　…'
'Jesus；　Kemp；'　Vic　whispered。　His　whirling　mind　fixed　on　the　note：　DO　YOU　HAVE　ANY　QUESTIONS？　He　remembered　thinking　that　note；　regardless　of　anything　else；　was　a　disquieting　index　into　the　man's　psychology。　A　vicious　act　of　revenge　for　being　dumped。　What　had　Kemp　done　now？　What　had　he　done　besides　go　through　their　house　like　a　harpy　on　the　warpath？
'Mr。　Trenton？'
'I'm　here。'
Bannerman　cleared　his　throat　as　if　he　were　having　some　difficulty　with　the　next。　'Officer　Fisher　proceeded　upstairs。　The　upstairs　had　not　been　vandalized；　but　he　found　traces　of　…　uh；　some　whitish　fluid；　most　probably　semen；　on　the　bedspread　of　the　master　bedroom。'　And　in　an　unwitting　ic　ellipsis；　he　added；　'The　bed　did　not　appear　to　have　been　slept　in。'
'Where's　my　wife？'　Vic　shouted　into　the　phone。　'Where's　my　boy？　Don't　you　have　any　idea？'
'Take　it　easy；'　Roger　said；　and　put　a　hand　on　Vic's　shoulder。　Roger　could　afford　to　say　take　it　easy。　His　wife　was　home　in　bed。　So　were　his　twin　girls。　Vic　shook　the　hand　off。
'Mr。　Trenton；　all　I　can　tell　you　right　now　is　that　a　team　of　State　Police　detectives　are　on　the　scene；　and　my　own　men　are　assisting。　Neither　the　master　bedroom　nor　your　son's　room　appear　to　have　been　disturbed。'
'Except　for　the　e　on　our　bed；　you　mean；'　Vic　said　savagely；　and　Roger　flinched　as　if　struck。　His　mouth　dropped　open　in　a　gape。
'Yes；　well；　that。'　Bannerman　sounded　embarrassed。　'But　what　I　mean　is　that　there　are　no　signs　of　…　uh；　violence　against　person　or　persons。　It　looks　like　straight　vandalism。'
'Then　where　are　Donna　and　Tad？'　The　harshness　was　now　breaking　up　into　bewilderment；　and　he　felt　the　sting　of　helpless　little…boy　tears　at　the　corners　of　his　eyes。
'At　this　time　we　have　no　idea。'
Kemp。。。　my　God；　what　if　Kemp　has　them？
For　just　a　moment　a　confusing　flash　of　the　dream　he　had　the　previous　night　recurred：　Donna　and　Tad　hiding　in　their　cave；　menaced　by　some　terrible　beast。　Then　it　was　gone。
'If　you　have　any　idea　of　who　might　be　behind　this；　Mr。　Trenton　…'
'I'm　going　out　to　the　airport　and　rent　a　car；'　Vic　said。　'I　can　be　there　by　five　o'clock。'
Patiently；　Bannerman　said：　'Yes；　Mr。　Trenton。　But　if　your　wife　and　son's　disappearance　is　somehow　connected　with　this　vandalism；　time　could　be　a　very　precious　modity。　If　you　have　even　the　slightest　idea　of　who　might　bear　a　grudge　against　you　and　your　wife；　either　real　or　imagined　~'
'Kemp；'　Vic　said　in　a　small；　strangled　voice。　He　couldn't　hold　the　tears　back　now。　The　tears　were　going　to　e。　He　could　feel　them　running　down　his　face。'　Kemp　did　it；　I'm　sure　it　was　Kemp。　Oh　my　Christ；　what　if　he's　got　them？'
'Who　is　this　Kemp？'　Bannerman　asked。　His　voice　was　not　embarrassed　now；　it　was　sharp　and　demanding。
He　held　the　phone　in　his　right　hand。　He　put　his　left　hand　over　his　eyes；　shutting　out　Roger；　shutting　out　the　hotel　room；　the　sound　of　the　TV；　everything。　Now　he　was　in　blackness；　alone　with　the　unsteady　sound　of　his　voice　and　the　hot；　shifting　texture　of　his　tears。
'Steve　Kemp；'　he　said。　'Steven　Kemp。　He　ran　a　place　called　the　Village　Stripper　there　in　town。　He's　gone　now。　At　least；　my　wife　said　he　was　gone。　He　and　my　wife　。。。　Donna　。。。　they　。。。　they　had　。。。　well；　they　had　an　affair。　Banging　each　other。　It　didn't　last　long。　She　told　him　it　was　over。　I　found　out　because　he　wrote　me　a　note。　It　was　。。。　it　was　a　pretty　ugly　note。　He　was　getting　his　own　back；　I　guess。　I　guess　he　didn't　like　to　get　brushed　off　much。　This　。。。　it　sounds　like　a　grander　version　of　that　note。'
He　rubbed　his　hand　viciously　across　his　eyes；　making　a　galaxy　of　red　shooting　stars。
'Maybe　he　didn't　like　it　that　the　marriage　didn't　just　blow　apart。　Or　maybe　he's　just　。。。　just　fucked　up。　Donna　said　he　got　fucked　up　when　he　lost　a　tennis　match。　Wouldn't　shake　hands　over　the　net。　It's　a　question　。　。　。'　Suddenly　his　voice　was　gone　and　he　had　to　dear　his　throat　before　it　would　e　back。　There　was　a　band　around　his　chest；　tightening　and　loosening；　then　tightening　again。　'I　think　it's　a　question　of　how　far　he　might　go。　He　could　have　taken　them；　Bannerman。　He's　capable　of　it；　from　what　I　know　of　him。'
There　was　a　silence　at　the　other　end；　no；　not　quite　silence。　The　scratching　of　a　pencil　on　paper。　Roger　put　his　hand　on　Vic's　shoulder　again；　and　this　time　he　let　it　stay；　grateful　for　the　warmth。　He　felt　very　cold。
'Mr。　Trenton；　do　you　have　the　note　Kemp　sent　you？'
'No。　I　tore　it　up。　I'm　sorry；　but　under　the　circumstances
'Was　it　by　any　chance　printed　in　block　letters？'
'Yes。　Yes；　it　was。'
'Officer　Fisher　found　a　note　written　in　block　letters　on　the　message　board　in　the　kitchen。　It　said；　〃I　left　something　upstairs　for　you；　baby。〃'
Vic　grunted　a　little。　The　last　faint　hope　that　it　might　have　been　someone　else　…　a　thief；　or　maybe　just　kids　…　blew　away。　e　on　upstairs　and　see　what　I　left　on　the　bed。　It　was
Kemp。　The　line　on　the　noteminder　at　home　would　have　fit　into　Kemp's　little　note。
'The　note　seems　to　indicate　that　your　wife　wasn't　there　when　he　did　it；'　Bannerman　said；　but　even　in　his　shocked　state；　Vic　heard　a　false　note　in　the　sheriffs　voice。
'She　could　have　walked　in　while　he　was　still　there　and　you　know　it；'　Vic　said　dully。　'Back　from　shopping；　back　from　getting　the　carb　adjusted　on　her　car。　Anything。'
'What　sort　of　car　did　Kemp　drive？　Do　you　know？'
'I　don't　think　he　had　a　car。　He　had　a　van。'
'Color？'
'I　don't　know。'
'Mr。　Trenton；　I'm　going　to　suggest　you　e　on　up　from　Boston。　I'm　going　to　suggest　that　if　you　rent　a　car；　you　take　it　easy。　It　would　he　one　hell　of　a　note　if　your　people　turned　up　just　fine　and　you　got　yourself　killed　on　the　Interstate　ing　up　here。'
'Yes；　all　right。'　He　didn't　want　to　drive　anywhere；　fast　or　slow。　He　wanted　to　hide。　Better　still；　he　wanted　to　have　the　last　six　days　over　again。
'Another　thing；　sir。'
'What's　that？'
'On　your　way　up　here；　try　to　make　a　mental　list　of　your　wife's　friends　and　acquaintances　in　the　area。　It's　still　perfectly　possible　that　she　could　be　spending　the　night　with　someone。'
'Sure。'
'The　most　important　thing　to　remember　right　now　is　that　there　are　no　signs　of　violence。'
'The　whole　downstairs　is　ripped　to　hell；'　Vic　said。　That　sounds　pretty　fucking　violent　to　me。'
'Yes；'　Banner　said　unfortably。　'Well。'
'I'll　be　there；'　Vic　said。　He　hung　up。
'Vic；　I'm　sorry；'　Roger　said。　
Vic　couldn't　meet　his　old　friend's　eyes。　Wearing　the　horns；　he　thought。　Isn't　that　what　the　English　call　it？　Now　Roger　knows　Im　wearing　the　horns。
'It's　all　right；'　Vic　said；　starting　to　dress。
'All　this　on　your　mind　。。。　and