The world would be a more efficient place if everyone in it came out of a pop novel, he thought. People in pop novels always manage to keep their thoughts on track as they move smoothly from one chapter to the next.
He dialed Maine directory assistance, and when the operator asked 'What city, please?' he foundered for a moment because Castle Rock was a town, not a city but a small town, county seat or not, and then he thought: This is panic, Thad. Sheer panic. You've got to get it under control. You mustn't let Miriam die because you panicked. And he even had time, it seemed, to wonder why he couldn't let that happen and to answer the question: he was the only real character over whom he had any control at all, and panic was simply not a part of that character's image. At least as he saw it.
Down here we call that bullshit, Thad. Down here we call it fool's -
'Sir?' the operator was prodding. 'What city, please?'
Okay. Control.
He took a deep breath, got his shit together, and said, 'Castle City.' Christ. Closed his eyes. And with them still closed, said slowly and clearly: 'I'm sorry, operator. Castle Rock. I'd like the number for the sheriff's office.'
There was a lag, and then a robot voice began to recite the number. Thad realized he had no pen or pencil. The robot repeated it a second time, Thad strove mightily to remember it, and the number zipped right across his mind and into blackness again, not even leaving a faint trace behind.
'If you need further assistance,' the robot voice was continuing, please remain on the line for an operator - '
'Liz?' he pleaded. 'Pen? Something to write with?'
There was a Bic tucked into her address book and she handed it to him. The operator - the human operator - came back on the line. Thad told her he hadn't noted the number down. The.operator summoned the robot, who recited once again in her jig-jagging, vaguely female voice. Thad jotted the number on the cover of a book, almost hung up, then decided to double-check by listening to the second programmed recital. The second rendition showed he had transposed two of the numbers. Oh, he was getting right on top of his panic, that was crystal clear. He punched the disconnect button. Light sweat had broken out all over his body.
'Take it easy, Thad.'
'You didn't hear her,' he said grimly, and dialed the sheriff's office. The phone rang four times before a bored Yankee voice said, 'Castle County sheriff 's office,
Deputy Ridgewick speaking, may I help you?'
'This is Thad Beaumont. I'm calling from Ludlow.'
'Oh?' No recognition. None. Which meant more explanations. More cobwebs. The name Ridgewick rang a faint bell. Of course - the officer who had interviewed Mrs Arsenault and found Gamache's body. Jesus bleeding Christ, how could he have found the old man Thad was supposed to have murdered and not know who he was?
'Sheriff Pangborn came up here to . . . to discuss the Homer Gamache murder with me, Deputy Ridgewick. I have some information on that, and it's important that I speak to him right away.
'Sheriff's not here,' Ridgewick said, sounding monumentally unimpressed with the urgency in Thad's voice.
'Well, where is he?'
'T'home.'
'Give me the number, please.'
And, unbelievably: 'Oh, I don't know's I should, Mr Bowman. The sheriff - Alan, I mean - hasn't had much time off just lately, and his wife has been a trifle poorly. She has headaches.'
'I have to talk to him!'
'Well,' Ridgewick said comfortably, 'it's pretty clear you think you do, anyway. Maybe you even do. Really do, I mean. Tell you what, Mr Bowman! Why don't you just lay it out for me and kind of let me be the ju - '
'He came up here to arrest me for the murder of Homer Gamache, Deputy, and something else has happened, and if you don't give me his number right Now - '
'Oh, holy crow!' Ridgewick cried. Thad heard a faint bang and could imagine Ridgewick's feet coming down off his desk - or, more likely, Pangborn's desk - and landing on the floor as he straightened up in his seat. 'Beaumont, not Bowman!'
'Yes, and - '
'Oh, Judas! Judas Priest! The sheriff - Alan - said if you was to call, I should see you got through right away!'
'Good. Now - '
'Judas Priest! I'm a damn lunkhead!'