Read Online Hole in One by Walter Stewart - Free Book Online Page B

who thought the Land Titles Office was where they give names to properties.
    â€œHmm,” he said, and it was not a happy hmm. “Well, I guess it can’t do much harm to tell you a little bit. The other day, we had a visit from The Red Tide.”
    The Red Tide is what the local spokespeople for the Assembly of First Nations are called in Silver Falls, where bigotry is next to godliness. Joe Herkimer must have been in on this.
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œWell, it seems that there maybe used to be an Indian burial ground under what is now the fifth fairway at the Bosky Dell golf course. Those jokers wanted the area roped off, and preserved, for Pete’s sake. They are even applying for a heritage grant, and they want to get an archaeologist in to conduct a dig. Can you beat it?”
    â€œMaybe they object to the desecration of their burial grounds, Tommy.”
    â€œWhat’s to object? Bunch of dead old bones. Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is that they wanted us to run a story saying that they are thinking about taking legal action, and trying to get an injunction to prevent anyone disturbing the situation until they can have a proper study done. Of course, I told them we don’t run that kind of story. But, if they do get an injunction, it could hold up the development over there, so I want you to find out what effect that thing in Flannery’s will has on the sale of the land, and, while you’re at it, find out who’s behind these troublemakers. No Indian has brains enough to figure out something this complicated.”
    â€œYou’d be surprised, Tommy. Some Indians these days are pretty smart. Drive cars and everything.”
    Tommy just grunted. “You don’t put this stuff in the news files, you understand. Do it up as a memo, with one copy for me and one for Mrs. Post. Leave them both in my mailbox. You got that?”
    â€œI’ve never submitted my stuff to Mrs. Post, Tommy. What’s this all about?”
    â€œNever you mind what it’s all about. The publisher has a particular interest in this matter. That’s all you need to know. Just get on with it.”
    â€œAh, um.”
    â€œNow what’s the matter?”
    â€œWell, to tell you the truth, Tommy, I’m not sure I can keep any research I do on this under wraps.”
    â€œYes, you can. I just told you to. My god,” he went on, “I don’t know what they teach you in journalism school these days, but where I come from—”
    â€œYes, I know, journalists do what they’re told, and no lip. But there’s a complication.”
    â€œOh, yeah? And what’s the complication?”
    So I had to tell him that I had agreed to help Hanna with a story for the Toronto papers, thinking, as I was careful to point out to him, that no conflict of interest could arise, because the
Lancer
would not want to soil its hands with such a story, so it would be okay for me to work on it, in my own time of course. But now that he wanted me to work on it for the paper, well, not for the paper so much as for himself and Mrs. Post, that made it rather complicated and I really didn’t see . . .
    â€œWithers, you’re babbling,” Tommy said. “Stop it.”
    I stopped it.
    â€œLet me see if I’ve got this straight,” he went on. “You’ve made some kind of deal with this Klovack bimbo to freelance a piece for one of the Toronto papers . . .”
    â€œThe
Star
, I understand, or maybe the CBC-TV . . .”
    â€œ. . . some scummy Toronto rag, and you think that would interfere with your duty to your employer, who pays you a very substantial salary every week . . .”
    â€œSubstantial, hah!”
    â€œ. . . and you would jeopardize the long, happy relationship you’ve had with this employer for one lousy freelance assignment . . .”
    I could see he had got the whole wrong angle on this thing.
    â€œNo, no, it’s not