Not a word passed between the two men. Eddie had become used to Keeton's appearances at odd hours over the last year or so, and Keeton had long ago ceased seeing Eddie at all.
Now Keeton swept the papers together, fought an impulse to simply rip them to shreds and fling the pieces everywhere, and began to sort through them. Bureau of Taxation correspondence in one pile, his own replies in another. He kept these letters in the bottom drawer of his filing cabinet-a drawer to which only he had the key.
At the bottom of most of the letters was this notation: DK/sl.
DK was, of course, Danforth Keeton. sl was Shirley Laurence, his secretary, who took dictation and typed correspondence. Shirley had typed none of his responses to the Bureau's letters, however, initials or no initials.
It was wiser to keep some things to yourself A phrase jumped out at him as he sorted: "... and we notice discrepancies in quarterly Town Tax Return I I for the tax-year 1989..."
He put it aside quickly.
Another: "... and in examining a sampling of Workmen's Compensation forms during the last quarter of 1987, we have serious questions concerning.
Into the file.
Yet another: believe that your request for an examination deferral seems premature at this time..."
They blurred past him in a sickening swoop, making him feel as if he were on an out-of-control carnival ride.
"... questions about these tree-farm funds are... we find no record that the Town has filed.... dispersal of the State's share of funding has not been adequately documented..."
... missing expense-account receipts m I must be... cash slips are not sufficient for..."
"... may request complete documentation of expenses.
And now this last, which had come yesterday. Which had in turn driven him to Lewiston, where he had vowed to never again go during harness-racing season, last night.
Keeton stared at it bleakly. His head pounded and throbbed; a large drop of sweat rolled slowly down the center of his back. There were dark, exhausted circles under his eyes. A cold sore clung to one corner of his mouth.
BUREAU OF TAXATION
State House Augusta, Maine 04330 The letterhead, below the State Seal, screamed at him, and the salutation, which was cold and formal, threatened: To the Selectmen of Castle Rock.
Just that. No more "Dear Dan" or "Dear Mr. Keeton." No more good wishes for his family at the closing. The letter was as cold and hateful as the stab of an icepick.
They wanted to audit the town books.
All the town books.
Town tax records, State and Federal revenue-sharing records, town expense records, road-maintenance records, municipal law enforcement budgets, Parks Department budgets, even financial records pertaining to the State-funded experimental tree farm.
They wanted to see everything, and They wanted to see it on the 17th of October. That was only five days from now.
They.
The letter was signed by the State Treasurer, the State Auditor, and, even more ominous, by the Attorney General-Maine's top cop. And these were personal signatures, not reproductions.
"They," Keeton whispered at the letter. He shook it in his fist and it rattled softly. He bared his teeth at it. "Theyyyyyyy!"
He slammed the letter down on top of the others. He closed the file. Typed neatly onthe tabwas CORRESPONDENCE, MAINE BUREAU OF TAXATION. Keeton stared at the closed file for a moment. Then he snatched a pen from its holder (the set had been agift from the Castle Countyjaycees) and slashed the words MAINE BUREAU OF KAKA! across the file in large, trembling letters. He stared at it a moment and then wrote MAINE BUREAU OF ASSHOLES! below it. He held the pen in his closed fist, wielding it like a knife. Then he threw it across the room. It landed in the corner with a small clatter.
Keeton closed the other file, the one which contained copies of letters he had written himself (and to which he always added his secretary's lower-case initials), letters he had concocted on long, sleepless nights, letters which had ultimately proved fruitless. A vein pulsed steadily in the center of his forehead.
He got up, took the two files over to the cabinet, put them in the bottom drawer, slammed it shut, checked to make sure it was locked.