"I'm Leland Gaunt. This is my shop." He held out his hand.
A momentary revulsion swept over Norris as those long fingers wrapped themselves around his hand. Gaunt's handshake was the matter of a moment, however, and when he let go, the feeling passed at once.
Norris decided it was just his stomach, still queasy over those bad clams he'd eaten for lunch. Next time he was out that way, he'd stick to the chicken, which was, after all, the house specialty.
"I could give you an extremely fair deal on that rod," Mr. Gaunt said. "Why not step in, Officer Ridgewick? We'll talk about it."
Norris started a little. He hadn't told this old bird his name, he was sure of it. He opened his mouth to ask how Gaunt had known, then closed it again. He wore a little name-tag above his badge.
That was it, of course.
"I really shouldn't," he said, and hoisted a thumb back over his shoulder at the cruiser. He could still hear the radio, although static was all it was putting out; he hadn't had a call all night. "On duty, you know. Well, I'm off at nine, but technically, until I turn in my car-"
"This would only take a minute or so," Gaunt coaxed. His eyes regarded Norris merrily. "When I make up my mind to deal with a man, Officer Ridgewick, I don't waste time. Especially when the man in question is out in the middle of the night protecting my business."
Norris thought of telling Gaunt that nine o'clock was hardly the middle of the night, and in a sleepy little place like Castle Rock, protecting the investments of the local business people was rarely much of a chore. Then he looked back at the Bazun rod and reel and that old longing, so surprisingly strong and fresh, washed over him again. He thought of going out on the lake with such a rod this weekend, going out early in the morning with a box of worms and a big Thermos of fresh coffee from Nan's. it would almost be like being with the old man again.
"Well..."
"Oh, come on," Gaunt coaxed. "if I can do a little selling after hours, you can do a little buying on the town's time. And, really, Officer Ridgewick-I don't think anyone is going to rob the bank tonight, do you?"
Norris looked toward the bank, which flicked first yellow and then black in the measured stutter of the blinker-light, and laughed.
"I doubt it."
"Well?"
"Okay," Norris said. "But if we can't make a deal in a couple of minutes, I'll really have to split."
Leland Gaunt groaned and laughed at the same time. "I think I hear the soft sound of my pockets being turned out," he said.
"Come along, Officer Ridgewick-a couple of minutes it shall be."
"I sure would like to have that rod," Norris blurted. It was a bad way to start a trade and he knew it, but he couldn't help it.
"And so you shall," Mr. Gaunt said. "I'm going to offer you the best deal of your life, Officer Ridgewick."
He led Norris inside Needful Things and closed the door.
CHAPTER SIX
1
Wilma jerzyck did not know her husband, Pete, quite as well as she thought she did.
She went to bed that Thursday night planning to go over to Nettle Cobb's first thing Friday morning and Take Care of Things.
Her frequent wrangles sometimes simply faded away, but on those occasions when they came to a head, it was Wilma who picked the duelling ground and chose the weapons. The first rule of her confrontational life-style was Always get the last word. The second was Always make the first move. Making this first move was what she thought of as Taking Care of Things, and she meant to take care of Nettle in a hurry. She told Pete she just might see how many times she could turn the crazy bitch's head around before it popped off the stem.
She fully expected to spend most of the night awake and steaming, taut as a drawn bowstring; it wouldn't have been the first time.
Instead, she slipped off to sleep less than ten minutes after lying down, and when she woke up she felt refreshed and oddly calm.
Sitting at the kitchen table in her housecoat on Friday morning, it came to her that maybe it was too early to Take Care of Things Permanently. She had scared the living Jesus out of Nettle on the phone last night; as mad as Wilma had been, she hadn't been mad enough to miss that. Only a person as deaf as a stone post could have missed it.