Sam suddenly closed the book through which he’d been paging for the past few minutes and returned it to the shelf. “Dam-mit, I know they’re here somewhere.”
From his armchair Paul said, “What are you looking for?”
His head tilted slightly to the right, Sam continued to read the titles on the bindings. “We’ve got a sociologist doing research in town. I know I’ve got several of his articles in my collection, but I’ll be damned if I can find them.”
“Sociologist? What sort of research?”
“I don’t know exactly. He came into the store early this morning. Had dozens of questions to ask. Said he was a sociologist, come all the way up from Washington, and was making a study of Black River. Said he’d rented a room at Pauline Vicker’s place and would be here for three weeks or so. According to him, Black River’s pretty special.”
“In what way?”
“For one thing, it’s a prosperous company town in an age when company towns have supposedly fallen into decay or vanished altogether. And because we’re geographically isolated, it’ll be easier for him to analyze the effects of television on our social patterns. Oh, he had at least half a dozen good reasons why we’re ripe material for sociological research, but I don’t think he got around to explaining his main thesis, whatever it is he’s trying to prove or disprove.” He took another book from the shelf, opened it to the table of contents, closed it almost at once, and put it back where he’d gotten it.
“Do you know his name?”
“Introduced himself as Albert Deighton,” Sam said. “The name didn’t ring a bell. But the face did. Meek-looking man. Thin lips. Receding hairline. Glasses as thick as the lenses on a telescope. Those glasses make his eyes look like they’re popping right out of his head. I know I’ve seen his picture several times in books or magazines, alongside articles he’s written.” He sighed and turned away from the bookshelves for the first time since Paul came into the room. With one hand he smoothed his white beard. “I can spend all evening up here picking through these books. Right now you want me to take over the counter downstairs so you can escort my daughter to the elegant, incomparable Ultman’s Cafe for lunch.”
Paul laughed. “Jenny tells me there’s no more flu in town. So the worst we can get at Ultman’s is food poisoning.”
“What about the kids?”
“Mark’s spending the afternoon with Bob Thorp’s boy. He’s been invited to lunch, and he’ll spend it mooning over Emma.”
“Still has a crush on her, does he?”
“He thinks he’s in love, but he’d never admit it.”
Sam’s craggy face was softened by a smile. “And Rya?”
“Emma asked her to come along with Mark. But if you don’t mind looking after her, she’d rather stay here with you.”
“Mind? Don’t be ridiculous.”
As he got up from the armchair, Paul said, “Why don’t you put her to work after lunch? She could come up here and pore through these books until she found Deighton’s name on a table of contents.”
“What a dull bit of work for a peppy girl like her!”
“Rya wouldn’t be bored,” Paul said. “It’s right down her alley. She likes working with books-and she’d enjoy doing you a favor.”
Sam hesitated, then shrugged and said, “Maybe I’ll ask her. When I’ve read what Deighton’s written, I’ll know where his interests lie, and I’ll have a better idea of what he’s up to now. You know me-as curious as the day is long. Once I’ve got a bee in my bonnet, I’ve just got to take it out and see whether it’s a worker, drone, queen, or maybe even a wasp.”
Ultman’s Cafe stood on the southwest corner of the town square, shaded by a pair of enormous black oak trees. The restaurant was eighty feet long, an aluminum and glass structure meant to look like an old-fashioned railroad passenger car. It bad one narrow window row that ran around three sides; and tacked on the front was an entrance foyer that spoiled the railroad-car effect.
Inside, booths upholstered in blue plastic stood beside the windows. The table at each booth held an ash tray, a cylindrical glass sugar dispenser, salt and pepper shakers, a napkin dispenser, and a selector for the jukebox. An aisle separated the booths from the counter that ran the length of the restaurant.