Part 17 (1/2)

”I can't believe you wrote this,” Christina reiterated.

”No matter what we find in the file,” I replied, ”I didn't write that sentence intentionally.”

”Are you saying your subconscious wrote it?”

Is that your defense, Mr. Austin? That your subconscious wrote that sentence?

”I'm saying I didn't write it,” I said to the prosecuting attorney in my head, loud enough for Christina to hear.

”Maybe you did it as a joke or a dare and forgot to fix it before it went to press.”

”I think I'd remember something like that.”

”Maybe it's a prank and only a limited number of copies are printed with these words, have you thought of that? Do you know anyone in the White House or at the publishers who would play a prank on you?”

”It's not a prank, Christina.”

I clicked on the ma.n.u.script file. ”Here we go,” I said.

Christina bent over my shoulder, her cheek close to my cheek. It seemed to take the file forever to open.

The t.i.tle page appeared.

I clicked an icon at the top of the window and a list of chapter headings appeared to the left of the text. By clicking on each heading I could navigate from chapter to chapter.

”Here we go,” I said, the mouse hovering over the link that would take me to chapter 1. ”The first word of the first chapter in the published book is when, correct?”

Christina consulted the scratch paper. ”Correct.”

”We don't want to see the word when.”

”That's right,” she said.

I took a deep breath.

Click.

Chapter 1 appeared on the screen.

”Yes!” I shouted, thrusting my fists into the air.

The first word of chapter 1 was it.

Christina's voice trembled. ”Chapter two, try chapter two! We don't want the word to be he.”

I positioned the cursor on the chapter 2 link.

Click.

My heart fell to my stomach.

”What?” Christina cried. ”Does it say he?”

All the exuberance had drained from me. ”Second word . . . he,” I said.

A new fear was born. What if most of the words of the condemning sentence were present in my text?

Christina motioned me to continue. ”That could be just a coincidence. Go to chapter three. Chapter three.”

I positioned the cursor on chapter 3. ”What is the word we don't want?”

”Is.”

My hopes sank. Such a common verb.

Click.

”Yes! Third chapter, third word . . . Senate!” My hopes revived.

Momentum picked up from there. We found no matches in chapters 4 through 13.

Christina stepped back and dropped onto the edge of the bed. ”Oh Grant, I'm so glad you didn't write this!”

”I'm not out of the woods yet,” I said.

Inserting the backup CD into the computer, I checked it against the file on the hard drive. They were identical. Then I unearthed the two hard-copy printouts from the bottom of my closet. Neither of them condemned me. ”Which means the text was changed during editing,” I concluded.

”So you're in the clear!” Christina said.

”Not completely. I could have made the changes during editing.”

”But you didn't.”

”And then there's the proofs, the typeset printout I get from the publisher after it's gone through editorial. It's my last look at the ma.n.u.script, my last chance to make any corrections. I could have altered it then.”

”But you have your copy of the proofs to prove you didn't do that, don't you?”

I winced.

”Tell me you made copies.”

”I'd like to tell you that. But I didn't make copies.”

”Why not?”

”Christina, it's over five hundred pages. It would cost me a small fortune, and for what? A changed phrase here, a sentence there. During the proof stage changes are largely cosmetic.”