Salem's Lot - Stephen King [122]
‘And on that note,’ Cody said, rising, ‘Susan and I will exit. Meet us downstairs in the coffee shop when you’re decent. You and I have some business this afternoon.’
‘We do?’
‘Yes. The Glicks will have-to be told the encephalitis story. You can be my colleague if you like. Don’t say anything. Just stroke your chin and look wise.’
‘They’re not going to like it, are they?’
‘Would you?’
‘No,’ Ben said. ‘I wouldn’t.’
‘Do you need their permission to get an exhumation order?’ Susan asked.
‘Technically, no. Realistically, probably. My only experience with the question of exhuming corpses has been in Medical Law II. But I think if the Glicks are set strongly enough against it, they could force us to a hearing. That would lose us two Weeks to a month, and once we got there I doubt if my encephalitis theory would hold up.’ He paused and looked at them both. ‘Which leads us to the thing that disturbs me most about this, Mr Burke’s story aside. Danny Glick is the only corpse we have a marker for. All the others have disappeared into thin air.’
5
Ben and Jimmy Cody got to the Glick home around one-thirty. Tony Glick’s car was sitting in the driveway, but the house was silent. When no one answered the third knock, they crossed the road to the small ranch-style house that sat there-a sad, prefab refugee of the 1950s held up on one end by a rusty pair of house jacks. The name on the mailbox was Dickens. A pink lawn flamingo stood by the walk, and a small cocker spaniel thumped his tail at their approach.
Pauline Dickens, waitress and part owner of the Excellent Café, opened the door a moment or two after Cody rang the bell. She was wearing her uniform.
‘Hi, Pauline,’ Jimmy said. ‘Do you know where the Glicks are?’
‘You mean you don’t know?’
‘Know what?’
‘Mrs Glick died early this morning. They took Tony Glick to Central Maine General. He’s in shock.’
Ben looked at Cody. Jimmy looked like a man who had been kicked in the stomach.
Ben took up the slack-quickly. ‘Where did they take her body?’
Pauline ran her hands across her hips to make sure her uniform was right. ‘Well, I spoke to Mabel Werts on the phone an hour ago, and she said Parkins Gillespie was going to take the body right up to that Jewish fellow’s funeral home in Cumberland. On account of no one knows where Carl Foreman is.’
‘Thank you,’ Cody said slowly.
‘Awful thing,’ she said, her eyes straying to the empty house across the road. Tony Glick’s car sat in the driveway like a large and dusty dog that had been chained and then abandoned. ‘If I was a superstitious person, I’d be afraid.’
‘Afraid of what, Pauline?’ Cody asked.
‘Oh… things.’ She smiled vaguely. Her fingers touched a small chain hung around her neck.
A St Christopher’s medal.
6
They were sitting in the car again. They had watched Pauline drive off to work without speaking.
‘Now what?’ Ben asked finally.
‘It’s a balls-up,’ Jimmy said. ‘The Jewish fellow is Maury Green. I think maybe we ought to drive over to Cumberland. Nine years ago Maury’s boy almost drowned at Sebago Lake. I happened to be there with a girl friend, and I gave the kid artificial respiration. Got his motor going again. Maybe this is one time I ought to trade on somebody’s good will.’
‘What good will it do? The ME will have taken her body for autopsy or postmortem or whatever they call it.’
‘I doubt it. It’s Sunday, remember? The ME will be out in the woods someplace with a rock hammer-he’s an amateur geologist. Norbert-do you remember Norbert?’
Ben nodded.
‘Norbert is supposed to be on call, but he’s erratic. He’s probably got the phone off the hook so he can watch the Packers and the Patriots. If we go up to Maury Green’s funeral parlor now, there’s a pretty fair chance the body will be there unclaimed until after dark.’
‘All right,’ Ben said. ‘Let’s go.’
He remembered the call he was to have made on Father Callahan, but it would have to wait. Things were going very fast now. Too fast to suit him. Fantasy and reality had merged.
7
They drove in silence