Needful Things - Stephen King [160]
The telephone on the desk rang. Startled, Keeton squeezed the Colt's trigger. There was a dry snap. If the gun had been loaded, he would have put a bullet spang through the study door.
He scooped the phone up. "Can't you people leave me alone for even a little while?" he shouted angrily.
The quiet voice which replied silenced him at once. It was the voice of Mr. Gaunt, and it poured over Keeton's blistered soul like soothing balm. ?"
"What luck did you have with the toy I sold you, Mr. Keeton "It worked!" Keeton said. His voice was jubilant. He forgot, at least for the moment, that he was planning a strenuous morning of murder and suicide. "I collected on every race, by God!"
"Well, that's fine," Mr. Gaunt said warmly.
Keeton's face clouded again. His voice dropped to what was almost a whisper. "Then yesterday when I got home "
He found he could not go on. A moment later he discovered-to his great amazement and even greater delight-that he didn't have to.
"You discovered They had been in your house?" Mr. Gaunt asked.
"Yes! Yes! How did you know?" "They are everywhere in this town," Mr. Gaunt said. "I told you that when last we met, did I not?"
"Yes! And-" Keeton broke off suddenly. His face twisted in alarm. "They could have this line tapped, do you realize that, Mr.
Gaunt? They could be listening in on our conversation right now!"
Mr. Gaunt remained calm. "They could, but They're not. Please don't think I am naive, Mr. Keeton. I have encountered Them before.
Many times."
"I'm sure you have," Keeton said. He was discovering that the wild joy he had taken in Winning Ticket was little or nothing compared to this; to finding, after what felt like centuries of struggle and darkness, a kindred soul.
"I have a small electronic device attached to my line," Mr. Gaunt went on in his calm and mellow voice. "If the line is tapped, a small light goes on. I am looking at that light now, Mr. Keeton, and it is dark. As dark as some of the hearts in this town."
"You do know, don't you?" Danforth Keeton said in a fervent, trembling voice. He felt as if he might weep.
"Yes. And I called to tell you that you mustn't do anything rash, Mr. Keeton." The voice was soft, lulling. As he listened to it, Keeton felt his mind begin to drift away like a child's helium-filled balloon.
"That would make things far too easy for Them. Why, do you realize what would happen if you were to die?"
"No," Keeton murmured. He was looking out the window. His eyes were blank and dreamy.
"They would have a party!" Mr. Gaunt cried softly. "They would get liquored up in Sheriff Pangborn's office! They would go out to Homeland Cemetery and urinate on your grave!"
"Sheriff Pangborn?" Keeton said uncertainly.
"You don't really believe a drone like Deputy Ridgewick is allowed to operate in a case like this without orders from his higherups, do you?"
"No, of course not." He was beginning to see more clearly now.
They; it had always been They, a tormenting dark cloud around him, and when you snatched at that cloud, you came away with nothing. Now he at last began to understand that They had faces and names. They might even be vulnerable. Knowing this was a tremendous relief.
"Pangborn, Fullerton, Samuels, the Williams woman, your own wife.
They are all part of it, Mr. Keeton, but I suspect-yes, and rather strongly-that Sheriff Pangborn is the ringleader. If so, he would love it if you killed one or two of his underlings and then put yourself out of the way. Why, I suspect that is exactly what he has been aiming for all along. But you're going to fool him, Mr.
Keeton, aren't you?"
"Yessss!" Keeton whispered fiercely. "What should I do?"
"Nothing today. Go about your business as usual. Go to the races tonight, if you like, and enjoy your new purchase. If you appear the same as always to Them, it will throw Them off balance.
It will sow confusion and uncertainty amidst the enemy."
"Confusion and uncertainty." Keeton spoke the words slowly, tasting them.
"Yes. I'm laying my