Weizak: That is quite all right.
R: I have one final question for you, Dr. Weizak, one which seems to me to be of nearly ultimate importance; it speaks to an issue which John Smith himself raised in the letter to his father which has been entered into evidence. That question is...
W: No.
R: I beg your pardon?
W: You are preparing to ask me if Johnny's tumor pulled the trigger that day in New Hampshire, are you not?
R: In a manner of speaking, I suppose...
W: The answer is no. Johnny Smith was a thinking, reasoning human being until the end of his life. The letter to his father shows this; his letter to Sarah Hazlett also shows this. He was a man with a terrible, Godlike power perhaps a curse, as my colleague Dr. Vann has called it - but he was neither unhinged nor acting upon fantasies caused by cranial pressure - if such a thing is even possible.
R: But isn't it true that Charles Witman, the so-called 'Texas Tower Sniper', had...
W: Yes, yes, he had a tumor. So did the pilot of the Eastern Airlines airplane that crashed in Florida some years ago. And it has never been suggested that the tumor was a precipitating cause in either case. I would point out to you that other infamous creatures -Richard Speck; the so-called 'Son of Sam', and Adolf Hitler - needed no brain tumors to cause them to act in a homicidal manner. Or Frank Dodd, the murderer Johnny himself uncovered in the town of Castle Rock. However misguided this Committee may find Johnny's act to have been, it was the act of a man who was sane. In great mental agony, perhaps - but sane.
7.
... and most of all, don't believe that I did this without the longest and most agonizing reflection. If by killing him I could be sure that the human race was gaining another four years, another two, even another eight months in which to think it over, it would be worth it. It's wrong, but it may turn out right. I don't know. But I won't play
Hamlet any longer. I know how dangerous Stillson is. Daddy, I love you very much. Believe it.
Your Son,
Johnny
8.
Excerpt from testimony given before the socalled 'Stillson Committee', chaired by Senator William Cohen of Maine. The questioner is Mr. Albert Renfrew, the Committee's Deputy Counsel. The witness is Mr. Stuart Clawson, of the Blackstrap Road in Jackson, New Hampshire.
Renfrew: And you say you just happened to grab your camera, Mr. Clawson?
Clawson: Yeah! Just as I went out the door. I almost didn't even go that day, even though I like Greg Stillson - well, I did like him before all of this, anyway. The town hall just seemed like a bummer to me, you know?'
R: Because of your driver's exam.
C: You got it. Flunking that permit test was one colossal bummer. But at the end, I said what the hell. And I got the picture. Wow! I got it. That picture's going to make me rich, I guess. Just like the flag-raising on Iwo Jima.
R: I hope you don't get the idea that the entire thing was staged for your benefit, young man.
C: Oh, no! Not at all! I only meant... well ... I don't know what I meant. But it happened right in front of me, and ... I don't know. Jeez, I was just glad I had my Nikon, that's all.
R: You just snapped the photo when Stillson picked up the child?
C: Matt Robeson, yessir.
R: And this is a blowup of that photo?
C: That's my picture, yes.
R: And after you took it, what happened?
C: Two of those goons ran after me. They were yelling 'Give us the camera, kid! Drop it.' Shi - uh, stuff like that.
R: And you ran.
C: Did I run? Holy God, I guess I ran. They chased me almost all the way to the town garage. One of them almost had me, but he slipped on the ice and fell down.
Cohen: Young man, I'd like to suggest that you won the most important footrace of your life when you outran those two thugs.
C: Thank you, Sir. What Stillson did that day... maybe you had to be there, but ... holding a little kid in front of you, that's pretty low. I bet the people in New Hampshire wouldn't vote for that guy for dog-catcher. Not for...
R: Thank you, Mr. Clawson. The witness is excused.
9.
October again.
Sarah had avoided this trip for a very long time, but now the time had come and it could be put off no longer. She felt that. She had left both children with Mrs. Ablanap - they had house-help now, and two cars instead of the little red Pinto; Walt's income was scraping near thirty thousand dollars a year - and had come by herself to Pownal through the burning blaze of late autumn.