They were on time for their meeting with the representatives of the insurance company, which undoubtedly1 relieved Ted2 Milner's mind. Mort was not particularly crazy about having Ted in attendance; it had never been Ted's house, after all, not even after the divorce. Still, it seemed to ease Amy's mind to have him there, and so Mort left it alone.
Don Strick, the Consolidated3 Assurance Company agent with whom they had done business, conducted the meeting at his office, where they went after another brief tour of 'the site.' At the office, they met a man named Fred Evans, a Consolidated field investigator4 specializing in arson5. The reason Evans hadn't been with Wickersham and Bradley that morning or at 'the site' when Strick met them there at noon became obvious very quickly: he had spent most of the previous night poking6 through the ruins with a ten-cell flashlight and a Polaroid camera. He had gone back to his motel room, he said, to catch a few winks7 before meeting the Raineys.
Mort liked Evans very much. He seemed to really care about the loss he and Amy had suffered, while everyone else, including Mr Teddy Makes Three, seemed to have only mouthed the traditional words of sympathy before going on to whatever they considered the business at hand (and in Ted Milner's case, Mort thought, the business at hand was getting him out of Derry and back to Tashmore Lake as soon as possible). Fred Evans did not refer to 92 Kansas Street as 'the site.' He referred to it as 'the house.'
His questions, while essentially9 the same as those asked by Wickersham and Bradley, were gentler, more detailed10, and more probing. Although he'd had four hours' sleep at most, his eyes were bright, his speech quick and clear. After speaking with him for twenty minutes, Mort decided11 that he would deal with a company other than Consolidated Assurance if he ever decided to burn down a house for the insurance money. Or wait until this man retired12.
When he had finished his questions, Evans smiled at them. 'You've been very helpful, and I want to thank you again, both for your thoughtful answers and for your kind treatment of me. In a lot of cases, people's feathers get ruffled13 the second they hear the words "insurance investigator." They're already upset, understandably so, and quite often they take the presence of an investigator on the scene as an accusation14 that they torched their own property.'
'Given the circumstances, I don't think we could have asked for better treatment,' Amy said, and Ted Milner nodded so violently that his head might have been on a string - one controlled by a puppeteer15 with a bad case of nerves.
'This next part is hard,' Evans said. He nodded to Strick, who opened a desk drawer and produced a clipboard with a computer printout on it. 'When an investigator ascertains16 that a fire was as serious as this one clearly was, we have to show the clients a list of claimed insurable property. You look it over, then sign an affidavit17 swearing that the items listed still belong to you, and that they were still in the house when the fire occurred. You should put a check mark beside any item or items you've sold since your last insurance overhaul18 with Mr Strick here, and any insured property which was not in the house at the time of the fire.' Evans put a fist to his lips and cleared his throat before going on. 'I'm told that there has been a separation of residence recently, so that last bit may be particularly important.'
'We're divorced,' Mort said bluntly. 'I'm living in our place on Tashmore Lake. We only used it during the summers, but it's got a furnace and is livable during the cold months. Unfortunately, I hadn't got around to moving the bulk of my things out of the house up here. I'd been putting it off.'
Don Strick nodded sympathetically. Ted crossed his legs, fiddled19 with his pipe, and generally gave the impression of a man who is trying not to look as deeply bored as he is.
'Do the best you can with the list,' Evans said. He took the clipboard from Strick and handed it across the desk to Amy. 'This can be a bit unpleasant - it's a little like a treasure hunt in reverse.'
Ted had put his pipe down and was craning at the list, his boredom20 gone' at least for the time being; his eyes were as avid21 as those of any bystander gleeping the aftermath of a bad accident. Amy saw him looking and obligingly tipped the form his way. Mort, who was sitting on the other side of her, tipped it back the other way.
'Do you mind?' he asked Ted. He was angry, really angry, and they all heard it in his voice.
'Mort - ' Amy said.
'I'm not going to make a big deal of this,' Mort said to her, 'but this was our stuff, Amy. Ours.'
'I hardly think - 'Ted began indignantly.
'No, he's perfectly22 right, Mr Milner,' Fred Evans said with a mildness Mort felt might have been deceptive23. 'The law says you have no right to be looking at the listed items at all. We wink8 at something like that if nobody minds ... but I think Mr Rainey does.'
'You're damned tooting Mr Rainey does,' Mort said. His hands were tightly clenched24 in his lap; he could feel his fingernails biting smile-shapes into the soft meat of his palms.
Amy switched her look of unhappy appeal from Mort to Ted. Mort expected Ted to huff and puff25 and try to blow somebody's house down, but Ted did not. Mort supposed it was a measure of his own hostile feeling toward the man that he'd made such an assumption; he didn't know Ted very well (although he did know he looked a bit like Alfalfa when you woke him up suddenly in a no-tell motel), but he knew Amy. If Ted had been a blowhard26, she would have left him already.
Smiling a little, speaking to her and ignoring Mort and the others completely, Ted said: 'Would it help matters if I took a walk around the block?'
Mort tried to restrain himself and couldn't quite do it. 'Why not make it two?' he asked Ted with bogus amiability27.
Amy shot him a narrow, dark stare, then looked back at Ted. 'Would you? This might be a little easier . . .'
'Sure,' he said. He kissed her high on her cheekbone, and Mort had another dolorous28 revelation: the man cared for her. He might not always care for her, but right now he did. Mort realized he had come halfway29 to thinking Amy was just a toy that had captivated Ted for a little while, a toy of which he would tire soon enough. But that didn't jibe30 with what he knew of Amy, either. She had better instincts about people than that ... and more respect for herself.
Ted got up and left. Amy looked at Mort reproachfully. 'Are you satisfied?'
'I suppose,' he said. 'Look, Amy - I probably didn't handle that as well as I could have, but my motives31 are honorable enough. We shared a lot over the years. I guess this is the last thing, and I think it belongs between the two of us. Okay?'
Strick looked uncomfortable. Fred Evans did not; he looked from Mort to Amy and then back to Mort again with the bright interest of a man watching a really good tennis match.
'Okay,' Amy said in a low voice. He touched her hand lightly, and she gave him a smile. It was strained, but better than no smile at all, he reckoned.
He pulled his chair closer to hers and they bent32 over the list, heads close together, like kids studying for a test. It didn't take Mort long to understand why Evans had warned them. He thought he had grasped the size of the loss. He had been wrong.
Looking at the columns of cold computer type, Mort thought he could not have been more dismayed if someone had taken everything in the house at 92 Kansas Street and strewn it along the block for the whole world to stare at. He couldn't believe all the things he had forgotten, all the things that were gone.
Seven major appliances. Four TVs, one with a videotape editing hook-up. The Spode china, and the authentic33 Early American furniture which Amy had bought a piece at a time. The value of the antique armoire which had stood in their bedroom was listed at $14,000. They had not been serious art-collectors, but they had been appreciators, and they had lost twelve pieces of original art. Their value was listed at $22,000, but Mort didn't care about the dollar value; he was thinking about the N. C. Wyeth fine-drawing of two boys putting to sea in a small boat. It was raining in the picture; the boys were wearing slickers and galoshes and big grins. Mort had loved that picture, and now it was gone. The Waterford glassware. The sports equipment stored in the garage - skis, ten-speed bikes, and the Old Town canoe. Amy's three furs were listed. He saw her make tiny check marks beside the beaver34 and the mink35 - still in storage, apparently36 - but she passed the short fox jacket without checking it off. It had been hanging in the closet, warm and stylish37 outerware for fall, when the fire happened. He remembered giving her that coat for her birthday six or seven years ago. Gone now. His Celestron telescope. Gone. The big puzzle quilt Amy's mother had given them when they were married. Amy's mother was dead and the quilt was now so much ash in the wind.
The worst, at least for Mort, was halfway down the second column, and again it wasn't the dollar value that hurt. 124 BOTS. WINE, the item read. VALUE $4,900. Wine was something they had both liked. They weren't rabid about it, but they had built the little wine room in the cellar together, stocked it together, and had drunk the occasional bottle together.
'Even the wine,' he said to Evans. 'Even that.'
Evans gave him an odd look that Mort couldn't interpret, then nodded. 'The wine room itself didn't burn, because you had very little fuel oil in the cellar tank and there was no explosion. But it got very hot inside, and most of the bottles burst. The few that didn't ... Well, I don't know much about wine, but I doubt if it would be good to drink. Perhaps I'm wrong.'
'You're not,' Amy said. A single tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it absently away.
Evans offered her his handkerchief. She shook her head and bent over the fist with Mort again.
Ten minutes later it was finished. They signed on the correct lines and Strick witnessed their signatures. Ted Milner showed up only instants later, as if he had been watching the whole thing on some private viewscreen.
'Is there anything else?' Mort asked Evans.
'Not now. There may be. Is your number down in Tashmore unlisted, Mr Rainey?'
'Yes.' He wrote it down for Evans. 'Please get in touch if I can help.'
'I will.' He rose, hand outstretched. 'This is always a nasty business. I'm sorry you two had to go through it.'
They shook hands all around and left Strick and Evans to write reports. It was well past one, and Ted asked Mort if he'd like to have some lunch with him and Amy. Mort shook his head.
'I want to get back. Do some work and see if I can't forget all this for awhile.' And he felt as if maybe he really could write. That was not surprising. In tough times - up until the divorce, anyway, which seemed to be an exception to the general rule - he had always found it easy to write. Necessary, even. It was good to have those make-believe worlds to fall back on when the real one had hurt you.
He half-expected Amy to ask him to change his mind, but she didn't. 'Drive safe,' she said, and planted a chaste38 kiss on the corner of his mouth. 'Thanks for coming, and for being so ... so reasonable about everything.'
'Can I do anything for you, Amy?'
She shook her head, smiling a little, and took Ted's hand. If he had been looking for a message, this one was much too clear to miss.
They walked slowly toward Mort's Buick.
'You keepin well enough down there?' Ted asked. 'Anything you need?'
For the third time he was struck by the man's Southern accent - just one more coincidence.
'Can't think of anything,' he said, opening the Buick's door and fishing the car keys out of his pocket. 'Where do you come from originally, Ted? You or Amy must have told me sometime, but I'll be damned if I can remember. Was it Mississippi?'
Ted laughed heartily39. 'A long way from there, Mort. I grew up in Tennessee. A little town called Shooter's Knob, Tennessee.'
收听单词发音 |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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ted
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| vt.翻晒，撒，撒开 | |
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consolidated
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| a.联合的 | |
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investigator
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| n.研究者，调查者，审查者 | |
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arson
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| n.纵火，放火 | |
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poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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winks
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| v.使眼色( wink的第三人称单数 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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essentially
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| adv.本质上，实质上，基本上 | |
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detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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puppeteer
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| n.操纵木偶的人，操纵傀儡 | |
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ascertains
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| v.弄清，确定，查明( ascertain的第三人称单数 ) | |
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affidavit
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| n.宣誓书 | |
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overhaul
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| v./n.大修，仔细检查 | |
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fiddled
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| v.伪造( fiddle的过去式和过去分词 )；篡改；骗取；修理或稍作改动 | |
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boredom
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| n.厌烦，厌倦，乏味，无聊 | |
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avid
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| adj.热心的；贪婪的；渴望的；劲头十足的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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deceptive
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| adj.骗人的，造成假象的，靠不住的 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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blowhard
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| n.自吹自擂者 | |
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amiability
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| n.和蔼可亲的，亲切的，友善的 | |
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dolorous
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| adj.悲伤的；忧愁的 | |
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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jibe
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| v.嘲笑，与...一致，使转向；n.嘲笑，嘲弄 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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authentic
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| a.真的，真正的；可靠的，可信的，有根据的 | |
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beaver
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| n.海狸，河狸 | |
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mink
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| n.貂，貂皮 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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stylish
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| adj.流行的，时髦的；漂亮的，气派的 | |
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chaste
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| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
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heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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