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It didn't work out that way After two drinks I thought of so it It looked to be a waste of ti was a waste of ti in me demanded that I waste my time in this particular fashion
And it wasn't such a waste after all
I caught a cab on Ninth and listened to the driver bitch about the price of gasoline It was all a conspiracy, he said, and he explained just hoas structured The big oil co off the oil they would turn public opinion in favor of the United States tea up with Israel to seize the oil-rich Arab territory He even found a way to tie it all in with the assassination of Kennedy I forget which Kennedy
"It's my own theory," he said "Whaddaya think of it?"
"It's a theory"
"Makes sense, doesn't it?"
"I don't know that much about the subject"
"Yeah, sure That's the A Nobody cares Take a poll on a subject, any subject, and half the people got no opinion No opinion! That's why the country's going to hell"
"I figured there was a reason"
He let me out in front of the library at Forty-second and Fifth I walked between the stone lions and up the stairs to the Microfilm Room I checked my notebook for the date of Arnold P Leverett's death and filled out a slip A sad-eyed girl in jeans and a plaid blouse brought me the appropriate spool of filh it It's alh old issues of the Ti sidetracked Other stories catch your eye and waste your tie and read the article on Arnold Philip Leverett
He didn't warrantin any of theton He had left a wife and three children He had gone to various schools and worked for various stockbrokers before leaving in 1959 to start his own Wall Street newsletter, Cottrell's Weekly Analyzer He had been fifty-eight years old at the time of his death The last fact was the only one that could possibly be considered pertinent, and it only confirranted
I wonder what ht the corner ofloose in my mind I don't knohat did it, and I wasn't even aware of it until I had already left the Microfilone halfway down the stairs Then I turned around and went back where I'd coot the Times Index for 1959
That was the year Leverett started his tip sheet, so h the Index and established that it was also the year in which Mrs Martin Vanderpoel died
I hadn't really expected to find an obituary She had been a clergyman's wife, but he wasn't all that proation out in the wilds of Brooklyn I'd been looking for nothing ular Tiht spool in the scanner and ran down the page with her obituary on it, I knehy they'd thought she orth the space
Mrs Martin Vanderpoel, the forermann, had committed suicide She had done so in the bathrooe She had slashed her wrists, and she had been discovered dead in the bathtub by her young son, Richard
I went back to Ar place for theafter it turned into Colu for a quick drink whenever I got tired of walking There are plenty of bars on Colu but I didn't knohat it was until I found it I should have been able to tell in advance I had had nights like this before, walking through bad streets, waiting for an opportunity to blow off soot the chance on Coluhties I had left a bar with an Irish na ait that is the special property of drunks and sailors I saw movement in a doorway ten or twelve yards ahead of , and when he came out of the doorith a knife in his hand, I knew I'd been looking for hiimme your money"
He wasn't a junkie Everybody thinks they're all junkies, but they're not Junkies break into apartments when nobody's hos they can turn into quick cash Not er out of five has a real jones The other four do it because it beats working
And it lets theh they are
He made sure I could see the knife blade We were in the shadows, but the blade still caught a little light and flashed wickedly at me It was a kitchen knife, wooden handle, six or seven inches of blade
I said, "Just take it easy"
"Let's see that fucking money"
"Sure," I said "Just take it easy with the knife Knives make me nervous"
I suppose he was about nineteen or twenty He'd had a fierce case of acne not too o, and his cheeks and chin were pitted Iht heel, and kicked his wrist with my left foot The knife sailed out of his hand
He went for it and that was a mistake because it landed behind him and he had to scras He should have coht at me or he should have turned around and run away but instead he went for the knife and that was the wrong thing to do
He never got within ten feet of it He was off balance and scraot a hand on his shoulder and spun hiht hiht under his nose He yelped and put both hands to his face, and I hit him three or four times in the belly When he folded up I cupped hthis head down
The io of hiles at the knees His body didn't knohether to straighten up or fall down I took his chin in my hand and shoved, and that made the decision for him He went up and over and sprawled on his back and stayed that way