Ed nodded eagerly. He was still smiling his sincere, slightly puzzled smile. “More of a discussion, actually. A political-”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Leydecker said, nodding and smiling, “but before you go any further, Mr. Deepneau-”

“Ed. Please.”

“Before we go any further, Mr. Deepneau, I just kind of want to tell you that anything you say could be used against You-you know, in a court of law. Also that you have a right to an attorney.

Ed’s friendly but puzzled smile faltered for a moment. The narrow appraising replaced it. “Gosh, what did I do? Can you help me figure it out?”

Ralph glanced at McGovern, and the relief he saw in Bill’s eyes mirrored what he was feeling himself. Leydecker was maybe not such a hick after all.

“What in God’s name would I want an attorney for?” Ed asked.

He made a half-turn and tried the puzzled smile out on Chris Nell, who was still standing beside the boombox on the porch.

“I don’t know, and maybe you don’t,” Leydecker said, still smiling. “I’m just telling you that you can have one. And that if you can’t afford one, the City of Derry will provide you with one.”

“But I don’t-” Leydecker was nodding and smiling. “That’s okay, sure, whatever.

But those are your rights. Do you understand your rights as I’ve explained them to you, Mr. Deepneau?”

Ed stood stock-still for a moment, his eyes suddenly wide and blank again. To Ralph he looked like a human computer trying to process a huge and complicated wad of input. Then the fact that the snow-job wasn’t working seemed to get through to him. His shoulders sagged. The blankness was replaced by a look of unhappiness too real to doubt… but Ralph doubted it, anyway. He had to doubt it; he had seen the madness on Ed’s face before Leydecker and Nell arrived. So had Bill McGovern. Yet doubt was not quite the same as disbelief, and Ralph had an idea that on some level Ed honestly regretted beating Helen up.

Yes, he thought, just as on some level he honestly believes that these Centurions of his are driving truckloads of fetuses out to the Newport landfill And that the forces of good and evil are gathering in Derry to play out some drama that’s going on in his mind. Call it Omen V: In the Court of the Crimson King.

Still, he could not help feeling a reluctant sympathy for Ed Deepneau, who had visited Carolyn faithfully three times a week during her final confinement at Derry Home, who always brought flowers, and always kissed her on the cheek when he left. He had continued giving her that kiss even when the smell of death had begun to surround her, and Carolyn had never failed to clasp his hand and give him a smile of gratitude. Thank you for remembering that I’m still a human being, that smile had said. And thank you for treating me like one. That was the Ed Ralph had thought of as his friend, and he thought-or maybe only hoped-that that Ed was still in there.

“I’m in trouble here, aren’t I?” he asked Leydecker softly.

“Well, let’s see,” Leydecker said, still smiling. “You knocked out two of your wife’s teeth. Looks like you fractured her cheekbone. I’d bet you my grandfather’s watch she’s got a concussion. Plus selected short subjects-cuts bruises, and this funny bare patch over her right temple. What’d you try to do? Snatch her bald-headed?”

Ed was silent, his green eyes fixed on Leydecker’s face.

“She’s going to spend the night in the hospital under observation because some asshole pounded the hell out of her, and everybody seems in agreement that the asshole was you, Mr. Deepneau. I look at the blood on your hands and the blood on your glasses, and I got to say I also think it was probably you. So what do you think? You look like a bright guy. Do you think you’re in trouble?”

“I’m very sorry I hit her,” Ed said. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Uh-huh, and if I had a quarter for every time I’ve heard that, I’d never have to buy another drink out of my paycheck. I’m arresting you on a charge of second-degree assault, Mr. Deepneau, also known as domestic assault. This charge falls under Maine’s Domestic violence law. I’d like you to confirm once more that I’ve informed you of your rights.”

“Yes.” Ed spoke in a small, unhappy voice. The smile-puzzled or otherwise-was gone. “Yes, you did.”

“We’re going to take you down to the Police station and book you,” Leydecker said. “Following that, you can make a telephone call and arrange bail. Chris, put him in the car, would you?”

Nell approached Ed. “Are you going to be a problem, Mr. Deepneau?”

“No,” Ed said in that same small voice, and Ralph saw a tear slip from Ed’s right eye. He wiped it away absently with the heel of his hand. “No problem.”

“Great!” Nell said heartily, and walked with him to the cruiser.

Ed glanced at Ralph as he crossed the sidewalk. “I’m sorry, old boy,” he said, then got into the back of the car. Before (officer Nell closed the door, Ralph saw there was no handle on the inside of it.

“Okay,” Leydecker said, turning to Ralph and holding out his hand.

“I’m sorry if I seemed a little brusque, Mr. Roberts, but sometimes these guys can be volatile. I especially worry about the ones who look sober, because you can never tell what they’ll do. John Leydecker.”

“I had Johnny as a student when I was teaching at the Community College,” McGovern said. Now that Ed Deepneau was safely tucked away in the back of the cruiser, he sounded almost giddy with relief.

“Good student. Did an excellent term paper on the Children’s Crusade.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ralph said, shaking Leydecker’s hand. “And don’t worry. No offense taken.”

“You were insane to come up here and confront him, you know,” Leydecker said cheerfully.

“I was pissed off. I’m still pissed off.”

“I can understand that. And you got away with it-that’s the important thing.”

“No. Helen’s the important thing. Helen and the baby.”

“I can ride with that. Tell me what you and Mr. Deepneau talked about before we got up here, Mr. Roberts… or can I call you Ralph?”

“Ralph, please.” He ran through his conversation with Ed, trying to keep it brief. McGovern, who had heard some of it but not all Of it, listened in round-eyed silence. Every time Ralph looked at him, he found himself wishing Bill had worn his Panama. He looked older without it. Almost ancient.

“Well, that certainly sounds pretty weird, doesn’t it?” Leydecker remarked when Ralph had finished.

“What will happen? Will he go to jail? He shouldn’t go to jail; he should be committed.”

“Probably should be,” Leydecker agreed, “but there’s a lot of distance between should be and will be. He won’t go to jail, and he isn’t going to be carted off to Sunnyvale Sanitarium, either-that sort of thing only happens in old movies. The best we can hope for is some court-ordered therapy.”

“But didn’t Helen tell you"The lady didn’t tell us anything, and we didn’t try to question her in the store. She was in a lot of pain, both physical and emotional.

“Yes, Of course she was,” Ralph said. “Stupid of me.”

“She might corroborate your stuff later on… but she might not.

“You know.

Domestic-abuse victims have a way of turning hot to heel raumns, der the new Luckily, it doesn’t really matter one way or the law. We got him nailed to the wall. You and the lady in the little store down the street can testify to Mrs. Deepneau’s condition, and to who she said put her in that condition. I can testify to the fact that the victim’s husband had blood on his hands. Best of all, he said the magic words: “Man, I just can’t believe I hit her.” I’d like You to come in-probably tomorrow morning, if that works for you-so I can take a complete statement from you, Ralph, but that’s just filling in the blanks. Basically, this one’s a done deal.”

Leydecker took the toothpick out of his mouth, broke it, tossed it in the gutter, and produced his tube again. “Pick?”