dk.nightchills-第30部分

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　Kicking　the　fragments　out　of　his　way；　Salsbury　stepped　in　behind　her　and　with　both　hands　stroked　the　graceful　curve　of　her　back。
　Bob　watched；　smiling　primly。
　Jeremy　watched；　amazed。　
　Tat…tat…tat…tat…tat：　the　power；　Miriam；　his　mother；　the　whores；　Dawson；　Klinger；　women；　vengeance　…　。　。　Ricocheting　thoughts。
　She　looked　over　her　shoulder　at　him。
　〃I've　always　wanted　one　of　you　like　this。〃　He　giggled。　He　could　not　suppress　it。　He　felt　good。　〃Scared　of　me。　Of　me！〃
　Her　face　was　pale　and　streaked　with　tears。　Her　eyes　were　wide。
　Lovely；〃　he　said。
　〃I　don't　want　you　touching　me。〃
　〃Miriam　used　to　say　that。　But　with　Miriam　it　was　an　order。　She　never　begged。〃　He　touched　her。
　She　was　covered　with　gooseflesh。
　〃Don't　stop　crying；〃　he　said。　〃I　like　you　crying。〃
　She　wept；　not　quietly　but　uncontrollably　and　unashamedly；　as　if　she　were　a　child…or　as　if　she　were　in　agony。
　As　he　prepared　to　enter　her；　he　heard　someone　shout　just　beyond　the　window。　Startled；　he　said；　〃Who…〃
　The　kitchen　door　crashed　open。　A　boy；　no　older　than　Jeremy　Thorp；　came　inside；　shouting　at　the　top　of　his　voice　and　wind…milling　his　thin　arms。
　At　the　edge　of　the　Thorp　property；　Rya　tossed　the　key　and　missed　it　again。
　Two　errors　out　of　forty　catches　isn't　so　bad；　she　thought。　In　fact　that's　major　league　talent。　Rya　Annendale　of　the　Boston　Red　Sox！　Didn't　sound　bad。　Not　bad　at　all。　Rya　Annendale　of　the　Pittsburgh　Pirates！　That　was　even　better。
　This　time　she　saw　where　the　key　fell　in　the　grass。　She　went　straight　to　it　and　picked　it　up。
　When　the　door　flew　open　and　the　boy　charged　in　like　a　dangerous　animal　breaking　free　of　its　cage；　Salsbury　stepped　away　from　the　woman　and　pulled　up　his　trousers。
　〃You　let　go　of　her！〃
　The　boy　collided　with　him。
　〃Get　out　of　here！　Now！　Out！〃
　Under　attack；　Salsbury　staggered　backwards。　He　was　strong　enough　to　handle　the　boy；　but　he　was　suffering　from　surprise　and　confusion；　and　he　had　lost　his　balance。　When　he　backed　into　the　refrigerator；　still　trying　to　button　the　waistband　of　his　slacks；　the　boy　pummeling　him；　he　realized　that　it　was　ridiculous　for　him；　of　all　people；　to　retreat。　〃I　am　the　key。〃
　The　boy　hit　him。　Called　him　names。
　Desperate；　Salsbury　fought　back；　seized　him　by　the　wrists　and　struggled　with　him。　〃I　am　the　key！〃
　〃Mr。　Thorp！　Jeremy！　Help　me！〃
　〃Stay　right　where　you　are；〃　Salsbury　told　them。
　They　didn't　move。
　He　swung　the　boy　around；　reversing　their　positions；　and　slammed　him　against　the　refrigerator。　Bottles　and　cans　and　jars　rattled　loudly　on　the　shelves。
　Very　young　children　would　not　have　been　affected　by　the　subliminal　program　that　had　been　played　for　Black　River。　Below　the　age　of　eight；　children　were　not　sufficiently　aware　of　death　and　sex　to　respond　to　the　motivational　equations　that　the　subceptive　films　established　in　older　individuals。　Furthermore；　although　the　vocabulary　had　been　made　as　simple　as　possible　since　the　Hoibrook…Rossner…Picard　indoctrination；　a　child　had　to　have　at　least　a　third…grade　reading　ability　to　be　properly　impressed　by　the　block…letter　messages　that　established　the　key…lock　code　phrases。　But　this　boy　was　older　than　eight；　and　he　should　respond。
　Through　clenched　teeth　Salsbury　said；　〃I'm　the　key；　damn　you〃
　　
　　
　Halfway　across　the　lawn；　atop　the　grape　arbor；　a　robin　bounced　along　the　interlocking　vines；　stopped　after　every　second　or　third　hop；　cocked　its　head；　and　peered　between　the　leaves。　Rya　paused　to　watch　him　for　a　moment。
　Panic。
　He　had　to　guard　against　panic。
　But　he　had　made　a　fatal　mistake；　and　he　might　have　the　power　taken　away　from　him。
　…　No。　It　was　a　serious　mistake。　Granted。　Very　serious。　But　not　fatal。　He　must　not　panic。　Keep　cool。
　〃Who　are　you？〃　he　asked。
　The　boy　squirmed；　tried　to　free　himself。
　〃Where　are　you　from？〃　Salsbury　demanded；　gripping　him　so　tightly　that　he　gasped。
　The　boy　kicked　him　in　the　shin。　Hard。
　For　an　instant　Salsbury's　whole　world　was　reduced　to　a　bright
　bolt　of　pain　that　shot　from　his　ankle　to　his　thigh；　coruscated　in　his　bones。　Howling；　wincing；　he　almost　fell。
　'Wrenching　loose；　the　boy　ran　toward　the　sink；　away　from　the　table；　intent　on　getting　around　Salsbury。
　Salsbury　stumbled　after　him；　cursing。　He　grabbed　at　the　boy's　shirt；　hooked　it　with　his　fingers；　lost　hold　of　it　in　the　same　second；　tripped　and　fell。
　If　the　little　bastard　gets　away。
　〃Bob！〃　Panic。　〃Stop　him。〃　Hysteria。　〃Kill　him。　For　God's　sake；　kill　him！〃
　The　canary　cage　was　on　the　lawn　by　the　kitchen　window。
　Rya　heard　Buster　chattering…and　then　she　heard　someone　shouting　in　the　house。
　Tat…tat…tat…tat。。。
　Salsbury　got　up。
　Sick。　Scared。
　The　naked　woman　wept。
　Crazily；　he　thought　of　the　refrain　from　the　rhyme　that　went　with　a　child's　game　that　he　had　once　played：　all　fall　down。。　all　fall　down。　。　。　all　fall　down。。。
　Thorp　blocked　the　door。
　The　boy　tried　to　dodge　him。
　〃Kill　him〃
　Thorp　caught　the　intruder　and　drove　him　backwards；　knocked　him　against　the　electric　range　with　devastating　force；　clutched　him　by　the　throat；　and　pounded　his　head　into　the　stainless　steel　brightwork　that　ringed　the　four　burners。　A　frying　pan　fell　to　the　floor　with　a　clang！　As　if　he　were　a　machine；　an　automaton；　Thorp　hammered　the　boy's　head　against　the　metal　edge　until　he　felt　the　skull　give　way。　When　blood　sprayed　across　the　wall　behind　the　range　and　streamed　from　the　boy's　nostrils；　the　big　man　let　go；　stepped　back　as　the　body　crumpled　at　his　feet。
　Jeremy　was　crying。
　〃Stop　that；〃　Salsbury　said　sharply。
　The　boy　stopped；　reluctantly。
　On　his　way　to　the　bloodied　child；　Salsbury　saw　a　girl　in　the　open　door。　She　was　staring　at　the　blood；　and　she　seemed　mesmerized　by　the　sight。　He　started　toward　her。
　She　looked　up；　dazed。
　〃I　am　the　key。〃
　She　turned　and　fled。
　Salsbury　ran　to　the　door…but　when　he　got　there；　she　was　already　gone　around　the　corner　of　the　house；　out　of　sight。
　
　PART　TWO：
　Terror
　　
　　
　1
　Friday；　August　26；　1977
　　
　9：45　A。M。
　　
　RYA　SAT　IN　THE　FRONT　SEAT　of　the　station　wagon　between　Paul　and　Jenny；　silent　and　unmoving；　gripped　by　what　appeared　to　be　fear　and　by　anger　as　well。　Her　hands　were　curled　into　solid　little　fists　in　her　lap。　Beneath　her　summer　tan　she　was　ashen。　Fine　beads　of　perspiration　were　strung　along　her　hairline。　She　pressed　her　lips　together　like；　the　halves　of　a　vise；　partly　to　keep　them　from　trembling；　partly　as　a　sign　of　her　extreme　anger；　frustration；　and　determination　to　prove　herself　right。
　Although　she　had　never　lied　to　him　about　anything　serious；　Paul　couldn't　believe　the　story　she　had　told　them　minutes　ago。　She　had　seen　something　odd　at　the　Thorp　house。　He　was　fairly　certain　of　that。　However；　she　had　surely　misinterpreted　what　she　had　seen。　When　she　burst　in　upon　Sam；　Jenny；　and　him　at　the　store；　her　tears　and　horror　had　been　genuine；　of　that　there　was　absolutely　no　doubt。　But　Mark　dead？　Unthinkable。　Beaten　to　death　by　Bob　Thorp；　the　chief　of　police？　Ridiculous。　If　she　wasn't　lying…well；　then　she　was　at　least　terribly　confused。
　〃It's　t…t…true；　Daddy。　It's　true！　I　swear　to　Cod　it's　true。　They　they　k…k…killed　him。　They　did。　Mr。　Thorp　did。　The　other　man　t…told　Mr。　Thorp　to　k…kill；　and　he　did。　He　kept　b…b…banging　Mark's　head。　。　。　his　head。。　。　banging　it　against　the　stove。　It　was　awful。　B…banging　it　。　。　。　over　and　over　again　。　。　。　and　all　the　blood。　。　。　Oh；　God；　Daddy；　it's　crazy　but　it's　true！〃
　It　was　crazy。
　And　it　couldn't　be　true。
　Yet　when　she　first　came　into　the　store…breathing　hard；　half…choking　and　half…crying；　babbling　as　if　she　were　in　a　fever；　so　unlike　herself…he　felt　an　icy　hand　on　the　back　of　his　neck。　As　she　told　her　improbable　story；　the　glacial　fingers　lingered。　And　they　were　still　there。
　He　turned　the　corner　onto　Union　Road。　The　police　chief's　house　was　a　quarter　of　a　mile　away；　the　last　on　the　street；　near　the　river。　The　garage；　large　enough　for　two　cars　and　topped　by　a　workman's　loft；　lay　fifty　yards　beyond　the　house。　He　pulled　into　the　driveway　and　parked　the　station　wagon　in　front　of　the　garage。
　〃Where's　the　canary　cage？〃　he　asked。
　Rya　said；　〃It　was　over　there。　Near　the　window。　They've　moved　it。〃
　〃Looks　calm。　Peaceful。　Doesn't　seem　like　a　murder　took　place　half　an　hour　ago。〃
　〃Inside；〃　Rya　said　sharply。　〃They　killed　him　inside。〃
　Jenny　took　hold　of　the　girl's　hand　and　squeezed　it。　〃Rya…〃
　〃Inside。〃　Her　face　was　set；　she　was　resolute。
　〃Let's　have　a　look；〃　Paul　said。
　They　got　out　of　the　car　and　crossed　the　freshly　mown　lawn　to　the　back　of　the　house。
　Emma　had　evidently　heard　them　drive　up；　for　by　the　time　they　reached　the　kitchen　stoop；　she　had　the　door　open　and　was　waiting　for　them。　She　wore　a　royal　blue　floor…length　corduroy　housecoat　with　a　high　neckline；　round　collar；　and　light　blue　corduroy　belt　at　the　waist。　Her　long　hair　was　bed　back　and　tucked　behind　her　ears；　held　in　place　by　a　few　bobby　pins。　She　was　smiling；　pleased　to　see　them。
　〃Hi；〃　Paul　said　awkwardly。　He　was　suddenly　at　a　loss　for　words。　If　even　a　tiny　fraction　of　Rya's　tale　were　true；　Emma　would　not　be　this　serene。　He　began　to　feel　foolish　for　having　placed　any　faith　whatsoever　in　such　a　bizarre　story。　He　couldn't　imagine　how　he　would　ever　tell　Emma　about　it。
　〃Hi　there；〃　she　said　cheerily。　〃Hello；　Rya。　Jenny；　how　is　your　father？〃
　〃Fine；　thanks；〃　Jenny　said。　She　sounded　quite　as　bewildered　as　Paul　felt。
　〃Well；〃　Emma　said；　〃I'm　still　in　my　robe。　The　breakfast　dishes　haven't　been　washed。　The　kitchen's　a　greasy　mess。　But　if　you　don't　mind　sitting　down　in　a　disaster　zone；　you're　wele　to　visit。〃
　Paul　hesitated。　〃Something　wrong？〃　Emma　asked。　〃Is　Bob　home？〃　〃He's　at　work。〃　〃When　did　he　leave？〃
　〃Same　as　every　day。　A　few　minutes　before　nine。〃
　〃He's　at　the　police　station？〃
　〃Or　cruising　around　in　the　patrol　car。〃　Emma　no　longer　needed　to　ask　if　something　was　wrong；　she　knew。　〃Why？〃　Why　indeed？　Paul　thought。　Rather　than　explain；　he　said；　〃Is　Mark　here？〃
　〃He　was；〃　Emma　said。　〃He　and　Jeremy　went　over　to　the　basketball　court　behind　the　Union　Theater。〃
　〃When　was　that？〃
　〃Half　an　hour　ago。〃
　It　seemed　to　him　that　she　had　to　be　telling　the　truth；　for　her　statement　could　be　verified　or　disproved　so　easily。　If　her　husband　had　killed　Mark；　what　could　she　hope　to　gain　by　such　a　flimsy