The Ghost(英文版)-第4章

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　　“Ignorance；”　I　said　brightly；　which　at　least　had　the　benefit　of　shock　value；　and　before　anyone　could　interrupt　I　launched　into　the　little　speech　I’d　rehearsed　in　the　taxi　coming　over。　“You　know　my　track　record。　There’s　no　point　my　trying　to　pretend　I’m　something　I’m　not。　I’ll　be　completely　honest。　I　don’t　read　political　memoirs。　So　what？”　I　shrugged。　“Nobody　does。　But　actually　that’s　not　my　problem。”　I　pointed　at　Maddox。　“That’syour　problem。”

　　“Oh；　please；”　said　Quigley　quietly。

　　“And　let　me　be　even　more　recklessly　honest；”　I　went　on。　“Rumor　has　it　you　paid　ten　million　dollars　for　this　book。　As　things　stand；　how　much　of　that　d’you　think　you’re　going　to　see　back？　Two　million？　Three？　That’s　bad　news　for　you；　and　that’s　especially　bad　news；”　I　said；　turning　to　Kroll；　“for　your　client。　Because　for　him　this　isn’t　about　money。　This　is　about　reputation。　This　is　Adam　Lang’s　opportunity　to　speak　directly　to　history；　to　get　his　case　across。　The　last　thing　he　needs　is　to　produce　a　book　that　nobody　reads。　How　will　it　look　if　his　life　story　ends　up　on　the　remainder　tables？　But　it　doesn’t　have　to　be　this　way。”

　　I　know　in　retrospect　what　a　huckster　I　sounded。　But　this　was　pitch　talk；　remember—which；　like　declarations　of　undying　love　in　a　stranger’s　bedroom　at　midnight；　shouldn’t　necessarily　be　held　against　you　the　next　morning。　Kroll　was　smiling　to　himself；　doodling　on　his　yellow　pad。　Maddox　was　staring　hard　at　me。　I　took　a　breath。

　　“The　fact　is；”　I　continued；　“a　big　name　alone　doesn’t　sell　a　book。　We’ve　all　learned　that　the　hard　way。　What　sells　a　book—or　a　movie；　or　a　song—isheart　。”　I　believe　I　may　even　have　thumped　my　chest　at　this　point。　“And　that’s　why　political　memoir　isthe　black　hole　of　publishing。　The　name　outside　the　tent　may　be　big；　but　everyone　knows　that　once　they’re　inside　they’re　just　going　to　get　the　same　old　tired　show；　and　who　wants　to　pay　twenty…five　dollars　for　that？　You’ve　got　to　put　in　some　heart；　and　that’s　what　I　do　for　a　living。　And　whose　story　has　more　heart　than　the　guy　who　starts　from　nowhere　and　ends　up　running　a　country？”

　　I　leaned　forward。　“You　see；　here’s　the　joke：　a　leader’s　autobiography　ought　to　bemore　interesting　than　most　memoirs；　notless　。　So　I　see　my　ignorance　about　politics　as　an　advantage。　Icherish　my　ignorance；　quite　frankly。　Besides；　Adam　Lang　doesn’t　need　any　help　from　me　with　the　politics　of　this　book—he’s　a　political　genius。　What　he　does　need；　in　my　humble　opinion；　is　the　same　thing　a　movie　star　needs；　or　a　baseball　player；　or　a　rock　star：　an　experienced　collaborator　who　knows　how　to　ask　him　the　questions　that　will　draw　out　his　heart。”

　　There　was　a　silence。　I　was　trembling。　Rick　gave　my　knee　a　reassuring　pat　under　the　table。　“Nicely　done。”

　　“What　utter　balls；”　said　Quigley。

　　“Think　so？”　asked　Maddox；　still　looking　at　me。　He　said　it　in　a　neutral　voice；　but　if　I　had　been　Quigley；　I　would　have　detected　danger。

　　“Oh；　John；of　course　；”　said　Quigley；　with　all　the　dismissive　scorn　of　four　generations　of　Oxford　scholars　behind　him。　“Adam　Lang　is　a　world…historical　figure；　and　his　autobiography　is　going　to　be　a　world　publishing　event。　A　piece　of　history；　in　fact。　It　shouldn’t　be　approached　like　a”—he　ransacked　his　well…stocked　mind　for　a　suitable　analogy　but　finished　lamely—“a　feature　for　a　celebrity　magazine。”

　　There　was　another　silence。　Beyond　the　tinted　windows　the　traffic　was　backing　up　along　the　motorway。　Rainwater　rippled　the　gleam　of　the　stationary　headlights。　London　still　hadn’t　returned　to　normal　after　the　bomb。

　　“It　seems　to　me；”　said　Maddox；　in　the　same　slow；　quiet　voice；　his　big　pink　mannequin’s　hands　still　resting　on　the　table；　“that　I　have　entire　warehouses　full　of　‘world　publishing　events’　that　I　somehow　can’t　figure　out　how　to　get　off　my　hands。　And　a　heck　of　a　lot　of　people　read　celebrity　magazines。　What　do　you　think；　Sid？”

　　For　a　few　seconds　Kroll　merely　carried　on　smiling　to　himself　and　doodling。　I　wondered　what　he　found　so　funny。　“Adam’s　position　on　this　is　very　straightforward；”　he　said　eventually。　（Adam：　he　tossed　the　first　name　as　casually　into　the　conversation　as　he　might　a　coin　into　a　beggar’s　cap。）　“He　takes　this　book　very　seriously—it’s　his　testament；　if　you　will。　He　wants　to　meet　his　contractual　obligations。　And　he　wants　it　to　be　a　commercial　success。　He’s　therefore　more　than　happy　to　be　guided　by　you；　John；　and　by　Marty　also；　within　reason。　Obviously；　he’s　still　very　upset　by　what　happened　to　Mike；　who　was　irreplaceable。”

　　“Obviously。”　We　all　made　the　appropriate　noises。

　　“Irreplaceable；”　he　repeated。　“And　yet—he　has　to　be　replaced。”　He　looked　up；　pleased　with　his　drollery；　and　at　that　instant　I　knew　there　was　no　horror　the　world　could　offer—no　war；　no　genocide；　no　famine；　no　childhood　cancer—to　which　Sidney　Kroll　would　not　see　the　funny　side。　“Adam　can　certainly　appreciate　the　benefits　of　trying　someone　entirely　different。　In　the　end；　it　all　comes　down　to　a　personal　bond。”　His　spectacles　flashed　in　the　strip　lights　as　he　scrutinized　me。　“Do　you　work　out；　maybe？”　I　shook　my　head。　“Pity。　Adam　likes　to　work　out。”

　　Quigley；　still　reeling　from　Maddox’s　put…down；　attempted　a　comeback。　“Actually；　I　know　quite　a　good　writer　on　theGuardian　who　uses　a　gym。”

　　“Maybe；”　said　Rick；　after　an　embarrassed　pause；　“we　could　run　over　how　you　see　this　working　practically。”

　　“First　off；　we　need　it　wrapped　up　in　a　month；”　said　Maddox。　“That’s　Marty’s　view　as　well　as　mine。”

　　“A　month？”　I　repeated。　“You　want　the　book　in　a　month？”

　　“A　completed　manuscript　does　exist；”　said　Kroll。　“It　just　needs　some　work。”

　　“A　lot　of　work；”　said　Maddox　grimly。　“Okay。　Taking　it　backward：　we　publish　in　June；　which　means　we　ship　in　May；　which　means　we　edit　and　we　print　in　March　and　April；　which　means　we　have　to　have　the　manuscript　in…house　at　the　end　of　February。　The　Germans；　French；　Italians；　and　Spanish　all　have　to　start　translating　right　away。　The　newspapers　need　to　see　it　for　the　serial　deals。　There’s　a　television　tie…in。　Publicity　tour’s　got　to　be　fixed　well　in　advance。　We　need　to　book　space　in　the　stores。　So　the　end　of　February—that’s　it；　period。　What　I　like　about　your　résumé；”　he　said；　consulting　a　sheet　of　paper　on　which　I　could　see　all　my　titles　listed；　“is　that　you’re　obviously　experienced　and　above　all　you’re　fast。　You　deliver。”

　　“Never　missed　once；”　said　Rick；　putting　his　arm　round　my　shoulders　and　squeezing　me。　“That’s　my　boy。”

　　“And　you’re　a　Brit。　The　ghost　definitely　has　to　be　a　Brit；　I　think。　To　get　the　jolly　old　tone　right。”

　　“We　agree；”　said　Kroll。　“But　everything　will　have　to　be　done　in　the　States。　Adam’s　completely　locked　in　to　a　lecture　tour　there　right　now；　and　a　fund…raising　program　for　his　foundation。　I　don’t　see　him　coming　back　to　the　UK　till　March　at　the　earliest。”

　　“A　month　in　America；　that’s　fine—yes？”　Rick　glanced　at　me　eagerly。　I　could　feel　him　willing　me　to　say　yes；　but　all　I　was　thinking　was：　a　month；　they　want　me　to　write　a　book　in　a　month…

　　I　nodded　slowly。　“I　suppose　I　can　always　bring　the　manuscript　back　here　to　work　on。”

　　“The　manuscript　stays　in　America；”　said　Kroll　flatly。　“That’s　one　of　the　reasons　Marty　made　the　house　on　the　Vineyard　available。　It’s　a　secure　environment。　Only　a　few　people　are　allowed　to　handle　it。”

　　“Sounds　more　like　a　bomb　than　a　book！”　joked　Quigley。　Nobody　laughed。　He　rubbed　his　hands　unhappily。　“You　know；　I　will　need　to　see　it　myself　at　some　point。　I　am　supposed　to　be　editing　it。”

　　“In　theory；”　said　Maddox。　“Actually　we　need　to　talk　about　that　later。”　He　turned　to　Kroll。　“There’s　no　room　in　this　schedule　for　revisions。　We’ll　need　to　revise　as　we　go。”

　　As　they　carried　on　discussing　the　timetable；　I　studied　Quigley。　He　was　upright　but　motionless；　like　one　of　those　victims　in　the　movies　who　get　stuck　with　a　stiletto　while　standing　in　a　crowd　and　die　without　anyone　noticing。　His　mouth　opened　and　closed　ever　so　slightly；　as　if　he　had　a　final　message　to　impart。　Yet　even　at　the　time　I　realized　he’d　asked　a　perfectly　reasonable　question。　If　he　was　the　editor；　why　shouldn’t　he　see　the　manuscript？　And　why　did　it　have　to　be　held　in　a　“secure　environment”　on　an　island　off　the　eastern　seaboard　of　the　United　States？　I　felt　Rick’s　elbow　in　my　ribs　and　realized　Maddox　was　talking　to　me。

　　“How　soon　can　you　get　over　there？　Assuming　we　go　with　you　rather　than　one　of　the　others—how　fast　can　you　move？”

　　“It’s　Friday　today；”　I　said。　“Give　me　a　day　to　get　ready。　I　could　fly　Sunday。”

　　“And　start　Monday？　That　would　be　great。”

　　Rick　said；　“You　won’t　find　anyone　who　can　move　quicker　than　that。”

　　Maddox　and　Kroll　looked　at　one　another　and　I　knew　then　that　I　had　the　job。　As　Rick　said　afterward；　the　trick　is　always　to　put　yourself　in　their　position。　“It’s　like　interviewing　a　new　cleaner。　Do　you　want　someone　who　can　give　you　the　history　of　cleaning　and　the　theory　of　cleaning；　or　do　you　want　someone　who’ll　just　get　down　and　clean　your　fucking　house？　They　chose　you　because　they　think　you’ll　clean　their　fucking　house。”

　　“We’ll　go　with　you；”　said　Maddox。　He　stood　and　reached　over　and　shook　my　hand。　“Subject　to　reaching　a　satisfactory　agreement　with　Rick　here；　of　course。”

　　Kroll　added；　“You’ll　also　have　to　sign　a　nondisclosure　agreement。”

　　“No　problem；”　I　said；　also　getting　to　my　feet。　That　didn’t　bother　me。　Confidentiality　clauses　are　standard　procedure　in　the　ghosting　world。　“I　couldn’t　be　happier。”

　　And　I　couldn’t　have　been。　Everyone　except　Quigley　was　smiling；　and　suddenly　there　was　a　kind　of　all…boys；　locker…room…after…the…match　kind　of　feeling　in　the　air。　We　chatted　for　a　minute　or　so；　and　that　was　when　Kroll　took　me　to　one　side　and　said；　very　casually；　“I’ve　something　here　you　might　care　to　take　a　look　at。”

　　He　reached　under　the　table　and　pulled　out　a　bright　yellow　plastic　bag　with　the　name　of　some　fancy　Washington　clothes　store　printed　on　it　in　curly　black　copperplate。　My　first　thought　was　that　it　must　be　the　manuscript　of　Lang’s　memoirs　and　that　all　th