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Bag of Bones :: Кинг Стивен
Страница: 139 из 425What does that leave for him to spendhis money on?”
“Lawyers,” I said bleakly. “Yep.”
“And Mattie Devore? What does she get?”
“Thanks to you, she gets me,” John Storrow said. “It’s like a John Grisham novel, isn’t it? Pure gold.
Meantime, I’m interested in Durgin, the ad/item. If Devore hasn’t been expecting any real trouble, he may have been unwise enough to put temptation in Durgin’s way. And Durgin may have been stupid enough to succumb. Hey, who knows what we might find?” But I was a turn back. “She gets you,” I said. “Thanks to me. And if I wasn’t here to stick in my oar? What would she get then?”
“Bubkes. That’s Yiddish. It means—”
“I know what it means,” I said. “That’s incredible.”
“Nope, just American justice. You know the lady with the scales? The one who stands outside most city courthouses?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Slap some handcuffs on that broad’s wrists and some tape over her mouth to go along with the blindfold, rape her and roll her in the mud. You like that image? I don’t, but it’s a fair representation of how the law works in custody cases where the plaintiff is rich and the defendant is poor. And sexual equality has actually made it worse, because while mothers still tend to be poor, they are no longer seen as the automatic choice for custody.”
“Mattie Devore’s got to have you, doesn’t she?”
“Yes,” John said simply. “Call me tomorrow and tell me that she will.”
“I hope I can do that.”
“So do I. And listen—there’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“You lied to Devore on the telephone.”
“Bullshit!”
“Nope, nope, I hate to contradict my sister’s favorite author, but you did and you know it. You told Devote that mother and child were out together, the kid was picking flowers, everything was fine. You put everything in there except Bambi and Thumper.” I was sitting up straight in my deck-chair now. I felt sandbagged. I also felt that my own cleverness had been overlooked. “Hey, no, think again. I never came out and said anything. I told him I assumed. I used the word more than once. I remember that very clearly.”
“Uh-huh, and if he was taping your conversation, you’ll get a chance to actually count how many times you used it.” At first I didn’t answer. I was thinking back to the conversation I’d had with him, remembering the underhum on the phone line, the characteristic underhum I remembered from all my previous summers at Sara Laughs.
“Lawyers,” I said bleakly. “Yep.”
“And Mattie Devore? What does she get?”
“Thanks to you, she gets me,” John Storrow said. “It’s like a John Grisham novel, isn’t it? Pure gold.
Meantime, I’m interested in Durgin, the ad/item. If Devore hasn’t been expecting any real trouble, he may have been unwise enough to put temptation in Durgin’s way. And Durgin may have been stupid enough to succumb. Hey, who knows what we might find?” But I was a turn back. “She gets you,” I said. “Thanks to me. And if I wasn’t here to stick in my oar? What would she get then?”
“Bubkes. That’s Yiddish. It means—”
“I know what it means,” I said. “That’s incredible.”
“Nope, just American justice. You know the lady with the scales? The one who stands outside most city courthouses?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Slap some handcuffs on that broad’s wrists and some tape over her mouth to go along with the blindfold, rape her and roll her in the mud. You like that image? I don’t, but it’s a fair representation of how the law works in custody cases where the plaintiff is rich and the defendant is poor. And sexual equality has actually made it worse, because while mothers still tend to be poor, they are no longer seen as the automatic choice for custody.”
“Mattie Devore’s got to have you, doesn’t she?”
“Yes,” John said simply. “Call me tomorrow and tell me that she will.”
“I hope I can do that.”
“So do I. And listen—there’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“You lied to Devore on the telephone.”
“Bullshit!”
“Nope, nope, I hate to contradict my sister’s favorite author, but you did and you know it. You told Devote that mother and child were out together, the kid was picking flowers, everything was fine. You put everything in there except Bambi and Thumper.” I was sitting up straight in my deck-chair now. I felt sandbagged. I also felt that my own cleverness had been overlooked. “Hey, no, think again. I never came out and said anything. I told him I assumed. I used the word more than once. I remember that very clearly.”
“Uh-huh, and if he was taping your conversation, you’ll get a chance to actually count how many times you used it.” At first I didn’t answer. I was thinking back to the conversation I’d had with him, remembering the underhum on the phone line, the characteristic underhum I remembered from all my previous summers at Sara Laughs.