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.They’re already down in Portland.”“And what then?” I asked out of curiosity.He paused.“Then I’ll be history.Adios, bye-bye.”His thoughts about the future were interesting, but nothing I needed to know.“How often did Craig buy from you?” I said, trying to put the conversation back on track.“I don’t know.It’s not like I keep exact records for the IRS,” he said with a smile.“Not something you do in my line of work.”“But Craig hasn’t bought from you lately?”“I already said that.”I reached for the door handle.“Thanks.I appreciate the information.”“They were amateurs,” he said.“Maybe that’s a good thing,” I countered.“Depends how you look at it.” He grinned once more.“It’s not good for my profits.”“Do you know anything about Craig’s death?”“Not a damn thing,” he told me.I opened the car door.“Then I’ll thank you again for your time.”“Hey, it’s nothing.”I walked away and heard him rev the engine then take off.I took off the cap and shoved it into my pocket before heading back up First Avenue toward the bus stop.That was a bust: nothing he couldn’t have told me on the phone and saved me a trip downtown.It took fifteen minutes to reach The Rocket offices.The wind kicked up again, bringing more squalls of rain with it.People started to dash from cover to cover, sheltering under flapping awnings and in the doorways of buildings.I was already soaked; the water dripped off my hair and down my back, and my jeans stuck cold and wet to my legs.I climbed the steps and shook myself off before opening the door.The office was busy, an old Black Sabbath track blasting from a boombox on one of the desks, people concentrating on their work.“Hey,” I said.Rob looked up from the piece of copy he was editing.“Hey, looks like you got soaked.You’d better close the door.”I pushed it to, hearing the lock click, and sat down.“What’s this all about?” The secrecy worried me.He reached down and brought out an LP with a red cover.“This.”I took it from him and looked at it, then sucked in my breath.Craig Adler and Snakeblood, it read.The ARP Demos.The music the band had recorded to grab their major label record deal.“What the fuck is this?”“It came in the mail this morning.” His expression was hard.“Turn it over.”I did as he said.There was only the track listing, no label name, no address.Nothing.Except, in large letters, Everything Courtesy of Laura Benton.Twenty-OneI just looked at him, my mouth hanging open, unable to speak, looking at the words.They were there, they were real.“I don’t understand,” I said finally, my voice stumbling.I could hardly breathe.My throat was tight, my heart beat fast in my chest.This couldn’t be happening.Slowly, I put the album back on the desk and forced myself to speak.“I had nothing to do with this.You’ve got to believe that.”“I do,” Rob said.His expression was serious.“You’ve been royally fucked, and not in a good way.”“It’s him, isn’t it? He’s done it.” I glanced down at the cover again, as if the words might have changed, my name might have vanished and everything would be okay again.“It is.We both know that you had nothing to do with this,” he said.“But that’s not what other people are going to think.” He glanced at the album.“Your name’s on there.They’ll believe you were behind it.”I felt bile rising as if I was going to throw up, and my mouth was dry.First the threats, now this.So there had been something else he could do.He’d beaten me.I’d worked so hard to prove myself, to show I could write as well as a man, that I knew just as much about music.It had taken a long time for me to be accepted.With one stroke he’d taken away all my credibility.He’d made me into a thief who’d stolen the tapes for profit.No one would believe anything I wrote about Craig now.I looked at Rob.“You’re sure this is real?” I asked desperately.“It is.I already talked to a few stores.They’ve bought copies, someone was around selling them.And I’ve played some of the tracks.” He shook his head.“I’m sorry.I talked to the publisher first thing.” He took out a cigarette and began to play with it.“I have to take you off the story.You understand?”“But if you do that, he’s won,” I said helplessly.“You know that.”“I’ll keep on with it myself.You think I’m going to let this lie?” He took out a book of matches and toyed with the smoke before pointing at the LP.“This is one more bit of proof.I’m not going to give up.”He said nothing for a few moments before adding quietly, “There’s one more thing.We’re going to hold off printing any of your other work for a while, until this all passes.”“What?” I hadn’t expected this.“It’s only going to be for about three months.” He tried to smile but it was a poor attempt.“Laura, I’m not cutting you loose.You’re too good for that.It’s just a short break.”“But.” I began, then stopped.Nothing I said was going to change things.It had already been decided.Rob hadn’t been quite right; I’d been royally fucked two ways.“I mean it,” he assured me.“I’ll carry on with this [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.They’re already down in Portland.”“And what then?” I asked out of curiosity.He paused.“Then I’ll be history.Adios, bye-bye.”His thoughts about the future were interesting, but nothing I needed to know.“How often did Craig buy from you?” I said, trying to put the conversation back on track.“I don’t know.It’s not like I keep exact records for the IRS,” he said with a smile.“Not something you do in my line of work.”“But Craig hasn’t bought from you lately?”“I already said that.”I reached for the door handle.“Thanks.I appreciate the information.”“They were amateurs,” he said.“Maybe that’s a good thing,” I countered.“Depends how you look at it.” He grinned once more.“It’s not good for my profits.”“Do you know anything about Craig’s death?”“Not a damn thing,” he told me.I opened the car door.“Then I’ll thank you again for your time.”“Hey, it’s nothing.”I walked away and heard him rev the engine then take off.I took off the cap and shoved it into my pocket before heading back up First Avenue toward the bus stop.That was a bust: nothing he couldn’t have told me on the phone and saved me a trip downtown.It took fifteen minutes to reach The Rocket offices.The wind kicked up again, bringing more squalls of rain with it.People started to dash from cover to cover, sheltering under flapping awnings and in the doorways of buildings.I was already soaked; the water dripped off my hair and down my back, and my jeans stuck cold and wet to my legs.I climbed the steps and shook myself off before opening the door.The office was busy, an old Black Sabbath track blasting from a boombox on one of the desks, people concentrating on their work.“Hey,” I said.Rob looked up from the piece of copy he was editing.“Hey, looks like you got soaked.You’d better close the door.”I pushed it to, hearing the lock click, and sat down.“What’s this all about?” The secrecy worried me.He reached down and brought out an LP with a red cover.“This.”I took it from him and looked at it, then sucked in my breath.Craig Adler and Snakeblood, it read.The ARP Demos.The music the band had recorded to grab their major label record deal.“What the fuck is this?”“It came in the mail this morning.” His expression was hard.“Turn it over.”I did as he said.There was only the track listing, no label name, no address.Nothing.Except, in large letters, Everything Courtesy of Laura Benton.Twenty-OneI just looked at him, my mouth hanging open, unable to speak, looking at the words.They were there, they were real.“I don’t understand,” I said finally, my voice stumbling.I could hardly breathe.My throat was tight, my heart beat fast in my chest.This couldn’t be happening.Slowly, I put the album back on the desk and forced myself to speak.“I had nothing to do with this.You’ve got to believe that.”“I do,” Rob said.His expression was serious.“You’ve been royally fucked, and not in a good way.”“It’s him, isn’t it? He’s done it.” I glanced down at the cover again, as if the words might have changed, my name might have vanished and everything would be okay again.“It is.We both know that you had nothing to do with this,” he said.“But that’s not what other people are going to think.” He glanced at the album.“Your name’s on there.They’ll believe you were behind it.”I felt bile rising as if I was going to throw up, and my mouth was dry.First the threats, now this.So there had been something else he could do.He’d beaten me.I’d worked so hard to prove myself, to show I could write as well as a man, that I knew just as much about music.It had taken a long time for me to be accepted.With one stroke he’d taken away all my credibility.He’d made me into a thief who’d stolen the tapes for profit.No one would believe anything I wrote about Craig now.I looked at Rob.“You’re sure this is real?” I asked desperately.“It is.I already talked to a few stores.They’ve bought copies, someone was around selling them.And I’ve played some of the tracks.” He shook his head.“I’m sorry.I talked to the publisher first thing.” He took out a cigarette and began to play with it.“I have to take you off the story.You understand?”“But if you do that, he’s won,” I said helplessly.“You know that.”“I’ll keep on with it myself.You think I’m going to let this lie?” He took out a book of matches and toyed with the smoke before pointing at the LP.“This is one more bit of proof.I’m not going to give up.”He said nothing for a few moments before adding quietly, “There’s one more thing.We’re going to hold off printing any of your other work for a while, until this all passes.”“What?” I hadn’t expected this.“It’s only going to be for about three months.” He tried to smile but it was a poor attempt.“Laura, I’m not cutting you loose.You’re too good for that.It’s just a short break.”“But.” I began, then stopped.Nothing I said was going to change things.It had already been decided.Rob hadn’t been quite right; I’d been royally fucked two ways.“I mean it,” he assured me.“I’ll carry on with this [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]