He called Officer Pruitt at home. He called Father Ochs. He called Thomas Kreider at the Ledger, who listened for ten minutes without saying anything and then said, "Kid, do you have a photograph of that page? The one with Hadley's name on it?" and Danny said he didn't think that was his to give, and Kreider was quiet a moment and then said, "No. I guess it isn't. Good for you," and wrote down the date of the meeting anyway.
He didn't call Walter Greer. He looked at the number for a long time, on Thursday and again on Friday. It was right there on the pad in Lupe's handwriting. He didn't call.
On Friday night, Kenny Strand came in for the late show, alone, and didn't buy any popcorn, and stood in front of Danny at the inner doors without handing him a ticket.
"He asked me to keep an eye on you," Kenny said. "Mr. Hadley. He asked me to let him know who you were calling. He said there'd be a raise in it." He looked at the carpet. "I'm not gonna. I just thought you should know he asked."
"Okay," Danny said. "Thanks."
"My mom's in that book, you know. She told me last night. She never said nothing about it before. She said she ushered for Miss Lindqvist in '66 and Miss Lindqvist used to give her a ride home after the late show so she wouldn't have to walk past the pool hall." Kenny shuffled his feet. "She's coming Saturday. She told me to tell you." He dug in his pocket and came out with a ticket, which he had, it turned out, bought. "Three-fifty," he said, and almost smiled, and Danny tore it and handed him back the stub and looked him in the eye.
"Enjoy the show," he said.
* * *
On Saturday, August 17, Ansel Voss let Danny run the last show alone.
He didn't announce it. He came up the stairs at nine-thirty, as the house was filling, and checked the threading on both machines, and laid out reels five and six on the shelf in order, and poured himself a cup of coffee from the percolator, and then he picked up his gloves and said, "I'll be downstairs," and went.