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The Colorado Kid :: Кинг Стивен
Страница: 75 из 81After a second or two, he chuckled.
“We didn’t tell him about the Colorado Kid because he would have taken a true unexplained mystery and made it into just another feature story,” Vince said. “Not by changin any of the facts, but by emphasizing one thing—the concept of musclerelaxants making it hard or impossible to swallow, let’s say—and leavin something else out.”
“That there was absolutely no sign of anything like that in this case, for instance,” Stephanie said.
“Ayuh, maybe that, maybe something else. And maybe he would have written it that way on his own, simply because making a story out of things that ain’t quite a story on their own gets to be a habit after a certain number of years in this business, or maybe his editor would have sent it back to him to do on a rewrite.”
“Or the editor might’ve done it himself, if time was tight,” Dave put in.
“Yep, editors have been known to do that, as well,” Vince agreed. “In any case, the Colorado Kid would most likely have ended up bein installment number seven or eight in Hanratty’s Unexplained Mysteries of New England series, something for people to marvel over for fifteen minutes or so on Sunday and line their kittylitter boxes with on Monday.”
“And it wouldn’t be yours anymore,” Stephanie said.
Dave nodded, but Vince waved his hand as if to sayOh, pishtush. “That I could put up with, but it would’ve hung a lie around the neck of a man who ain’t alive to refute it, and that Iwon’t put up with. Because I don’t have to.” He glanced at his watch. “In any case, I’m on my horse. Whichever one of you’s last out the door, be sure to lock it behind you, all right?”
Vince left. They watched him go, then Dave turned back to her. “Any more questions?”
She laughed. “A hundred, but none you or Vince could answer, I guess.”
“Just as long as you don’t get tired of askin em, that’s fine.” He wandered off to his desk, sat down, and pulled a stack of papers toward him with a sigh. Stephanie started back toward her own desk, then something caught her eye on the walllength bulletin board at the far end of the room, opposite Vince’s cluttered desk. She walked over for a closer look.
The left half of the bulletin board was layered with old front pages of theIslander, most yellowed and curling. High in the corner, all by itself, was the front page from the week of July 9th, 1952. The headline readMYSTERY LIGHTS OVER HANCOCK FASCINATE THOUSANDS.
“We didn’t tell him about the Colorado Kid because he would have taken a true unexplained mystery and made it into just another feature story,” Vince said. “Not by changin any of the facts, but by emphasizing one thing—the concept of musclerelaxants making it hard or impossible to swallow, let’s say—and leavin something else out.”
“That there was absolutely no sign of anything like that in this case, for instance,” Stephanie said.
“Ayuh, maybe that, maybe something else. And maybe he would have written it that way on his own, simply because making a story out of things that ain’t quite a story on their own gets to be a habit after a certain number of years in this business, or maybe his editor would have sent it back to him to do on a rewrite.”
“Or the editor might’ve done it himself, if time was tight,” Dave put in.
“Yep, editors have been known to do that, as well,” Vince agreed. “In any case, the Colorado Kid would most likely have ended up bein installment number seven or eight in Hanratty’s Unexplained Mysteries of New England series, something for people to marvel over for fifteen minutes or so on Sunday and line their kittylitter boxes with on Monday.”
“And it wouldn’t be yours anymore,” Stephanie said.
Dave nodded, but Vince waved his hand as if to sayOh, pishtush. “That I could put up with, but it would’ve hung a lie around the neck of a man who ain’t alive to refute it, and that Iwon’t put up with. Because I don’t have to.” He glanced at his watch. “In any case, I’m on my horse. Whichever one of you’s last out the door, be sure to lock it behind you, all right?”
Vince left. They watched him go, then Dave turned back to her. “Any more questions?”
She laughed. “A hundred, but none you or Vince could answer, I guess.”
“Just as long as you don’t get tired of askin em, that’s fine.” He wandered off to his desk, sat down, and pulled a stack of papers toward him with a sigh. Stephanie started back toward her own desk, then something caught her eye on the walllength bulletin board at the far end of the room, opposite Vince’s cluttered desk. She walked over for a closer look.
The left half of the bulletin board was layered with old front pages of theIslander, most yellowed and curling. High in the corner, all by itself, was the front page from the week of July 9th, 1952. The headline readMYSTERY LIGHTS OVER HANCOCK FASCINATE THOUSANDS.