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Bryce went to the French s He looked left, down the hill, toward the foot of Skyline Road Three county squad cars were co

"They’re here," Bryce told the others

He had been thinking of the reinforcely forent Now he realized that ten e had been right when she’d said that Stu Wargle’s life probably wouldn’t have been saved by waiting for reinforcehts in the Hilltop Inn and all the lights along the main street flickered Dimmed Went out But they came back on after only a second of darkness

It was 11:15, Sunday night, counting doard the witching hour

Chapter 18 – London, England

When ht o’clock Mondayin London

The day was dreary Gray clouds melted across the city A steady, dis since before dawn The drowned trees hung lilistened darkly, and everyone on the sidewalks seemed to have black umbrellas

At the Churchill Hotel in Portainst the s and strea roo through the water-beaded panes, briefly cast shadowy ies of raindrops onto the clean white tablecloths

Burt Sandier, in London on business fro how in God’s na to justify the size of this breakfast bill on his expense account His guest had begun by ordering a bottle of good chane: Mumm’s Extra Dry, which didn’t cone and caviar for breakfast!-and two kinds of fresh fruit And the old fellow clearly was not finished ordering

Across the table, Dr Timothy Flyte, the object of Sandler’s aht To the waiter, he said, "And I should like an order of your croissants"

"Yes, sir," the waiter said

"Are they very flaky?"

"Yes, sir Very"

"Oh, good And eggs," Flyte said, "Two lovely eggs, of course, rather soft, with buttered toast"

"Toast?" the waiter asked, "Is that in addition to the two croissants, sir?"

"Yes, yes," Flyte said, fingering the slightly frayed collar of his white shirt "And a rasher of bacon with the eggs"

The waiter blinked "Yes, sir"

At last Flyte looked up at Burt Sandler "What’s breakfast without bacon? As-and-bacona sely His wire-rimmed spectacles had slipped down his nose and were now perched on the round, red tip of it With a long, thin finger, he pushed thee of the eyeglasses had been broken and soldered The repair job was so distinctly amateurish that he suspected Flyte had soldered the fraes?" Flyte asked the waiter "Be truthful with htaway if they aren’t of the highest quality"

"We’ve quite good sausages," the waiter assured hies, then"

"Is that in place of the bacon, sir?"

"No, no, no In addition," Flyte said, as if the waiter’s question was not only curious but a sign of thick-headedness

Flyte was fifty-eight but looked at least a decade older His bristly white hair curled thinly across the top of his head and thrust out around his large ears as if crackling with static electricity His neck was scrawny and wrinkled; his shoulders were slight; his body favored bone and cartilage over flesh There was soitimate doubt whether he could actually eat all that he had ordered

"Potatoes," Flyte said

"Very well, sir," the waiter said, scribbling it down on his order pad, on which he had very nearly run out of room to write

"Do you have suitable pastries?" Flyte inquired

The waiter, aluttony, looked at Burt Sandier as if to say: Is your grandfather hopelessly senile, sir, or is he, at his age, a marathon runner who needs the calories?

Sandier merely smiled

To Flyte, the waiter said, "Yes, sir, we have several pastries There’s a delicious"

"Bring an assortment," Flyte said, "At the end of the ood Excellent!" Flyte said, bea Finally, with a trace of reluctance, he relinquished his e juice, eggs, bacon, and toast, while Professor Flyte adjusted the day old carnation pinned to the lapel of his so, Flyte leaned toward hine, Mr Sandler?"

"I believe Ithe bubbly would liberate his mind and help hiance, a likely tale that would convince even the parsi over this bill with an electron microscope

Flyte looked at the waiter "Then perhaps you’d better bring two bottles"

Sandler, as sipping ice-water, nearly choked