Read Online Escape the Night by Richard North Patterson - Free Book Online Page B

will know it’s wonderful, too—even Phil.”
    Seven months later, from yet more memoirs of beagles and beastly parents, she pulled the sad, achingly beautiful novel of a young girl’s coming of age in a harsh Georgia town. She read it twice and took it to Charles, hugging the manuscript in front of her. “It’s so good . It’s been turned down five places, and this lady is so good.”
    Standing in his library, she seemed almost to quiver with love for the book. “What’s it about?” Charles asked. He frowned as she told him. “Tough to sell, I’m afraid. Who’ve you shown this to?”
    She flushed. “No one.”
    â€œNot Phillip?”
    She looked away, body taut and strained, holding the manuscript like a baby. “I thought it had a better chance with you.”
    He stared at her. “That isn’t very smart, you know.”
    She nodded, still looking down. “I know.”
    â€œThen you also know that for me to intercede would make life difficult for you.”
    Her eyes flashed back to him. “I don’t care about that.”
    â€œDon’t you? I thought you wanted a career in publishing, not a coffee break.”
    Her eyes held his. Softly, uncharacteristically, she asked, “Please?”
    Six days later Charles went to John Carey’s office. Ruth’s manuscript sat on his father’s desk, Phillip at his side. “We’ve read the novel,” John Carey told him.
    â€œThen you must know that it’s too fine to ignore.”
    â€œIt won’t sell,” Phillip cut in. “And I don’t appreciate that Miss Levy didn’t clear this with me. Frankly, I’m for unloading both of them.”
    Charles turned on Phillip. “Ruth Levy has the sense to let us know what’s good, instead of trying to tell us what we want to hear. You’d be foolish not to keep her.”
    Phillip eyed him curiously. “What does she …”
    John Carey raised his hand, still watching Charles. “Does this mean you wish to resume taking some responsibility for what we publish?” he asked softly. “Because you can’t just come and go, meddling as you please.”
    Charles hesitated. “Exactly what do you propose?”
    â€œI won’t have you throwing notes over the fence. Instead, you’re going to do something that’s never been done. You’ll have your own imprint—the authority to choose and edit five books a year with ‘A Charles Carey Book’ printed under the firm name, so that you can succeed or fail in front of God and everyone. That is my condition for publishing every single book you want.” John Carey thrust Ruth Levy’s manuscript across the desk. “Including this one.”
    Charles read the hurt and surprise on Phillip’s face, the determination on John Carey’s. “You forget I’m Typhoid Mary,” he answered. “You and Phil may bore them, but HUAC’s still trailing me around.”
    John Carey shrugged. “McCarthy went too far—these people can’t do much now, beyond getting on your nerves.” His voice grew harsh. “You still can work at home, Charles. But unless you work on this for me , Miss Levy no longer works for anyone.”
    Charles stared back at his father, measuring the force of his intentions. In a low voice, he said at last, “Have it your way.”
    Silently, he took the manuscript from his father’s hand. Phillip turned away.
    The next day Ruth Levy asked Charles to come home with her.
    â€œLook,” he told her. “I didn’t …”
    She put her finger to his lips. “I know.”
    It was sweet and intense.
    The voice of Charles Carey broke the silence.
    â€œHave it your way …”
    On a drizzly December night, in his rented room on R Street, Englehardt winced with the hurt he knew was Phillip’s.
    The tape clicked off. Abruptly, he