sk.everythingseventual-第92部分

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　　That'll　change　after　my　book；　Mike　thought；　sipping　his　drink。
　　'…and　there　are　no　ghost…tours　with　stops　at　the　Hotel　Dolphin；　although　they　do　tour　through　the　Sherry…Netherland；　the　Plaza；　and　the　Park　Lane。　We　have　kept　1408　as　quiet　as　possible　。　。　。　although；　of　course；　the　history　has　always　been　there　for　a　researcher　who　is　both　lucky　and　tenacious。'
　　Mike　allowed　himself　a　small　smile。
　　'Veronique　changed　the　sheets；'　Olin　said。　'I　acpanied　her。　You　should　feel　flattered；　Mr。　Enslin；　it's　almost　like　having　your　night's　linen　put　on　by　royalty。　Veronique　and　her　sister　came　to　the　Dolphin　as　chambermaids　in　1971　or　'72。　Vee；　as　we　call　her；　is　the　Hotel　Dolphin's　longest…running　employee；　with　at　least　six　years'　seniority　over　me。　She　has　since　risen　to　head　housekeeper。　I'd　guess　she　hadn't　changed　a　sheet　in　six　years　before　today；　but　she　used　to　do　all　the　turns　in　1408…she　and　her　sister…until　about　1992。　Veronique　and　Celeste　were　twins；　and　the　bond　between　them　seemed　to　make　them　。　。　。　how　shall　I　put　it？　Not　immune　to　1408；　but　its　equal　。　。　。　at　least　for　the　short　periods　of　time　needed　to　give　a　room　a　light　turn。'
　　'You're　not　going　to　tell　me　this　Veronique's　sister　died　in　the　room；　are　you？'
　　'No；　not　at　all；'　Olin　said。　'She　left　service　here　around　1988；　suffering　from　ill　health。　But　I　don't　rule　out　the　idea　that　1408　may　have　played　a　part　in　her　worsening　mental　and　physical　condition。'
　　'We　seem　to　have　built　a　rapport　here；　Mr。　Olin。　I　hope　I　don't　snap　it　by　telling　you　I　find　that　ridiculous。'
　　Olin　laughed。　'So　hardheaded　for　a　student　of　the　airy　world。'
　　'I　owe　it　to　my　readers；'　Mike　said　blandly。
　　'I　suppose　I　simply　could　have　left　1408　as　it　is　anyway　during　most　of　its　days　and　nights；'　the　hotel　manager　mused。　'Door　locked；　lights　off；　shades　drawn　to　keep　the　sun　from　fading　the　carpet；　coverlet　pulled　up；　doorknob　breakfast　menu　on　the　bed　。　。　。　but　I　can't　bear　to　think　of　the　air　getting　stuffy　and　old；　like　the　air　in　an　attic。　Can't　bear　to　think　of　the　dust　piling　up　until　it's　thick　and　fluffy。　What　does　that　make　me；　persnickety　or　downright　obsessive？'
　　'It　makes　you　a　hotel　manager。'
　　'I　suppose。　In　any　case；　Vee　and　Cee　turned　that　room…very　quick；　just　in　and　out…until　Cee　retired　and　Vee　got　her　first　big　promotion。　After　that；　I　got　other　maids　to　do　it　in　pairs；　always　picking　ones　who　got　on　well　with　each　other…'
　　'Hoping　for　that　bond　to　withstand　the　bogies？'
　　'Hoping　for　that　bond；　yes。　And　you　can　make　fun　of　the　room　1408　bogies　as　much　as　you　want；　Mr。　Enslin；　but　you'll　feel　them　almost　at　once；　of　that　I'm　confident。　Whatever　there　is　in　that　room；　it's　not　shy。
　　'On　many　occasions…all　that　I　could　manage…I　went　with　the　maids；　to　supervise　them。'　He　paused；　then　added；　almost　reluctantly；　'To　pull　them　out；　I　suppose；　if　anything　really　awful　started　to　happen。　Nothing　ever　did。　There　were　several　who　had　weeping　fits；　one　who　had　a　laughing　fit…I　don't　know　why　someone　laughing　out　of　control　should　be　more　frightening　than　someone　sobbing；　but　it　is…and　a　number　who　fainted。　Nothing　too　terrible；　however。　I　had　time　enough　over　the　years　to　make　a　few　primitive　experiments…beepers　and　cell…phones　and　such…but　nothing　too　terrible。　Thank　God。'　He　paused　again；　then　added　in　a　queer；　flat　tone：　'One　of　them　went　blind。'
　　'What？'
　　'She　went　blind。　Rommie　Van　Gelder；　that　was。　She　was　dusting　the　top　of　the　television；　and　all　at　once　she　began　to　scream。　I　asked　her　what　was　wrong。　She　dropped　her　dustrag　and　put　her　hands　over　her　eyes　and　screamed　that　she　was　blind　。　。　。　but　that　she　could　see　the　most　awful　colors。　They　went　away　almost　as　soon　as　I　got　her　out　through　the　door；　and　by　the　time　I　got　her　down　the　hallway　to　the　elevator；　her　sight　had　begun　to　e　back。'
　　'You're　telling　me　all　this　just　to　scare　me；　Mr。　Olin；　aren't　you？　To　scare　me　off。'
　　'Indeed　I　am　not。　You　know　the　history　of　the　room；　beginning　with　the　suicide　of　its　first　occupant。'
　　Mike　did。　Kevin　O'Malley；　a　sewing　machine　salesman；　had　taken　his　life　on　October　13；　1910；　a　leaper　who　had　left　a　wife　and　seven　children　behind。
　　'Five　men　and　one　woman　have　jumped　from　that　room's　single　window；　Mr。　Enslin。　Three　women　and　one　man　have　overdosed　with　pills　in　that　room；　two　found　in　bed；　two　found　in　the　bathroom；　one　in　the　tub　and　one　sitting　slumped　on　the　toilet。　A　man　hanged　himself　in　the　closet　in　1970…'
　　'Henry　Storkin；'　Mike　said。　'That　one　was　probably　accidental　。　。　。　erotic　asphyxia。'
　　'Perhaps。　There　was　also　Randolph　Hyde；　who　slit　his　wrists；　and　then　cut　off　his　genitals　for　good　measure　while　he　was　bleeding　to　death。　That　one　wasn't　erotic　asphyxiation。　The　point　is；　Mr。　Enslin；　that　if　you　can't　be　swayed　from　your　intention　by　a　record　of　twelve　suicides　in　sixty…eight　years；　I　doubt　if　the　gasps　and　fibrillations　of　a　few　chambermaids　will　stop　you。'
　　Gasps　and　fibrillations；　that's　nice；　Mike　thought；　and　wondered　if　he　could　steal　it　for　the　book。
　　'Few　of　the　pairs　who　have　turned　1408　over　the　years　care　to　go　back　more　than　a　few　times；'　Olin　said；　and　finished　his　drink　in　a　tidy　little　gulp。
　　'Except　for　the　French　twins。'
　　'Vee　and　Cee；　that's　true。'　Olin　nodded。
　　Mike　didn't　care　much　about　the　maids　and　their　。　。　。　what　had　Olin　called　them？　Their　gasps　and　fibrillations。　He　did　feel　mildly　rankled　by　Olin's　enumeration　of　the　suicides　。　。　。　as　if　Mike　was　so　thick　he　had　missed；　not　the　fact　of　them；　but　their　import。　Except；　really；　there　was　no　import。　Both　Abraham　Lincoln　and　John　Kennedy　had　vice　presidents　named　Johnson；　the　names　Lincoln　and　Kennedy　had　seven　letters；　both　Lincoln　and　Kennedy　had　been　elected　in　years　ending　in　60。　What　did　all　of　these　coincidences　prove？　Not　a　damned　thing。
　　'The　suicides　will　make　a　wonderful　segment　for　my　book；'　Mike　said；　'but　since　the　tape　recorder　is　off；　I　can　tell　you　they　amount　to　what　a　statistician　resource　of　mine　calls　'the　cluster　effect。''
　　'Charles　Dickens　called　it　'the　potato　effect；''　Olin　said。
　　'I　beg　your　pardon？'
　　'When　Jacob　Marley's　ghost　first　speaks　to　Scrooge；　Scrooge　tells　him　he　could　be　nothing　but　a　blob　of　mustard　or　a　bit　of　underdone　potato。'
　　'Is　that　supposed　to　be　funny？'　Mike　asked；　a　trifle　coldly。
　　'Nothing　about　this　strikes　me　as　funny；　Mr。　Enslin。　Nothing　at　all。　Listen　very　closely；　please。　Vee's　sister；　Celeste；　died　of　a　heart　attack。　At　that　point；　she　was　suffering　mid…stage　Alzheimer's；　a　disease　which　struck　her　very　early　in　life。'
　　'Yet　her　sister　is　fine　and　well；　according　to　what　you　said　earlier。　An　American　success　story；　in　fact。　As　you　are　yourself；　Mr。　Olin；　from　the　look　of　you。　Yet　you've　been　in　and　out　of　room　1408　how　many　times？　A　hundred？　Two　hundred？'
　　'For　very　short　periods　of　time；'　Olin　said。　'It's　perhaps　like　entering　a　room　filled　with　poison　gas。　If　one　holds　one's　breath；　one　may　be　all　right。　I　see　you　don't　like　that　parison。　You　no　doubt　find　it　overwrought；　perhaps　ridiculous。　Yet　I　believe　it's　a　good　one。'
　　He　steepled　his　fingers　beneath　his　chin。
　　'It's　also　possible　that　some　people　react　more　quickly　and　more　violently　to　whatever　lives　in　that　room；　just　as　some　people　who　go　scuba…diving　are　more　prone　to　the　bends　than　others。　Over　the　Dolphin's　near…century　of　operation；　the　hotel　staff　has　grown　ever　more　aware　that　1408　is　a　poisoned　room。　It　has　bee　part　of　the　house　history；　Mr。　Enslin。　No　one　talks　about　it；　just　as　no　one　mentions　the　fact　that　here；　as　in　most　hotels；　the　fourteenth　floor　is　actually　the　thirteenth　。　。　。　but　they　know　it。　If　all　the　facts　and　records　pertaining　to　that　room　were　available；　they　would　tell　an　amazing　story　。　。　。　one　more　unfortable　than　your　readers　might　enjoy。
　　'I　should　guess；　for　example；　that　every　hotel　in　New　York　has　had　its　suicides；　but　I　would　be　willing　to　wager　my　life　that　only　in　the　Dolphin　have　there　been　a　dozen　of　them　in　a　single　room。　And　leaving　Celeste　Romandeau　aside；　what　about　the　natural　deaths　in　1408？　The　so…called　natural　deaths？'
　　'How　many　have　there　been？'　The　idea　of　so…called　natural　deat