Die Aussage seitens von Thrillingdetective stimmt übrigens nicht, dass die Kurzgeschichte nur "Audio only" erschienen wäre. Denn vor ein paar Minuten habe ich die komplette Kurzgeschichte in Textform gefunden.
Ohne archive.org hätte ich das nicht geschafft. Ich finde es mehr als praktisch dass man dort durch Standbilder verschiedener, inzwischen ausgestorbener Seiten surfen kann. Ich musste nur auf Februar 2003 zurückspulen und schon fand ich die Short Story namens "There's No Business".
Hier ist sie nun, Enjoy!
There's No Business - by Robert B. Parker
- February 10, 2003
Susan had a friend named Bob who had written a detective story.
"It's a favor," Susan said, "to me."
"The only thing I've ever read aloud is that obscene poem you wrote for me on my last birthday."
"Never mind that,” Susan said. "Bob thinks it would be so cool to have his detective story read on audio tape by an actual detective."
"Way cool,” I said.
"It will only take a couple of hours, Bob says, and it might be fun, having people listening to you all over the country."
"If not the English speaking world," I said.
"If not," Susan said. "You do have a wonderful speaking voice."
I dropped my voice as deep as I could.
"You think?" I said.
"You remember the, ah, behavior I described in your birthday poem?"
"It makes me blush every time,” I said.
Susan didn't say anything. She smiled. Her eyes shined at me.
"I do have a wonderful speaking voice,” I said.
Which is why I ended up on a bright Monday morning wearing earphones and sitting in front of a reading stand in a studio in Jamaica Plain. There was a script on the stand. Beyond a glass window was the producer, the engineer, and Susan wearing earphones. Susan smiled and gave me a thumbs up, as if I were an RAF pilot.
"All set?" the producer said through the earphones.
"All set,” I said.
In the earphones I sounded like Orson Wells.
"Okay," the producer said, "we’re recording. Whenever you're ready."
I nodded and looked at my script. And began to read.
Chupter One.
"Cut,” the producer said. "Take your time. We have plenty of time.
I didn't look at Susan. I read again Chapter One.
"I think she's probably guilty," Rita Fiore said to me.
"Cut. Try to sound a little more like the woman when Rita speaks. "
"I don't do voices,” I said.
"Of course you don't. Just a little lighter for the female voice."
"I think she's probably guilty," Rita Fiore said to me. We were in her office, high up with a view of the harbor.
"Cut,” the producer said, "stomach noise."
"Stomach noise?"
"The mike is very sensitive,” the producer said.
I looked at Susan again. Susan didn't look at me. I looked at the clock. I looked back at the script. It was thick. Through the glass I saw Susan lean over and say something to the producer. He nodded and moved his mike to where she could speak into it.
"You know the stuff in the poem?" she said.
"My body is betraying me,” I said. "I dare not speak."
"It's yours whether you do this or not, " she said.
I smiled at her through the glass.
"You don't mind?” I said.
"It's too hideous,” she said.
"It is,” I said.
"You can't walk out,” the producer said.
"Can and will,” I said. "I'm finished with show business."
In the earphones I still sounded like Orson Wells. I took them off and left.
END
Quelle:
https://web.archive.org/web/20030316204304/http://audiobookstoday.com/FtrDtl.cfm?FtrCod=242
Robert Urich Biographie - An Extraordinary Life - ab 30.08.2019
