.”
Without warning the phone began to sing its solitary note into her
ear. She sat for a moment in disbelief, words still on her lips, the
phone still sweaty against the side of her head. She used her thumb
and forefinger to massage the bridge of her nose before heaving yet
another sigh and settling the receiver in its cradle.
“Everything okay?” Marty wanted to know.
She waved him off. He knew from long experience this was not one
of those times when it was safe to press. He watched as she gathered
herself.
“What is it you’ve got an exclusive on?” she asked.
“The takeover,” he said tentatively. “The moment when this
guy Driver takes over the prison.”
“And how did we come into possession of this exclusive piece of
media?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Melanie took him at his word and did not press the issue. She had
long since resigned herself to the reality of her profession. Their
job was to get the story and get it out to the public. Along the way,
they sold ads for the program. The more popular the program, the more
expensive the ads. What it took to get the story in the first place
was very nearly a moot point. As long as the means weren’t outright
illegal or the story wasn’t an outright fraud, they could skewer
any other charges on the lance of “the public’s right to know.”
Something in the way he stood his feet, however, caught her eye.
“No problem at all?”
He gave a semishrug and looked away. “The other end’s a little
dicey. Real need to know. Real small group of people who’ve been
privy to the info.”
“So?”
“So it’s not gonna take ’em long to figure out who’s wet
on their end.”
She eyed him closely and rolled a manicured hand around her wrist.
“And thus by extension who’s wet on our end.”
“Yeah,” he admitted.
“I don’t like it,” she said quickly. “We’re not in a
position to weather a lot of heat. At this point—”
“We’re clean on it,” Marty insisted.
Her face was skeptical. “How’s that?”
“I had Jimmy make the connection,” he said, naming one of the
legion of assistant producers roaming the premises. “No other staff
person was involved in any way. The show was never mentioned. This
was strictly a cash-and-carry deal.”
“You’re sure the show wasn’t mentioned?”
“Positive.”
The way he’d described the situation, it wasn’t possible for
him to be sure beyond a doubt, but, in their business, factual leaps
of faith were often required. She let it go.
“And if anybody comes looking for Jimmy?”
Marty’s little boy smile crept over his face. “I sent him back
to L.A. Gave him a week off.” Before she could speak, he went on.
“With pay,” he added with a wink. “Kid’s gonna take his
girlfriend to Cancún.”
She arched her eyebrows. “And this is worth all of that?”
“This”—he waved the jewel case in the air—“puts us right
back on top of the food chain.”
She pointed to the console. Housed inside were the TV set, the VCR
the DVD player.
“Fire it up,” she said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
She gave the words all the positive energy she could muster. She’d
been down this road before only to be disappointed. They hadn’t had
a true exclusive in a long time. Nothing that was worth the hoopla
anyway. A couple of two-day leads on mediocre stories, but that was
about it. After so many false alarms, she found it difficult to
muster a great deal of enthusiasm for anything unseen.
The screen rolled once, then flickered to life. Melanie watched in
silence as Driver accessed the control pod. At the point where Driver
looped the piano wire around the guard’s neck, she began to rise
from the seat, pushing herself sympathetically upward with her arms,
as if drawn on a string, until near the end, when her locked elbows
braced her above the seat bottom and her red mouth hung open like a
scar.
The screen rolled. She dropped back into the seat with a
Without warning the phone began to sing its solitary note into her
ear. She sat for a moment in disbelief, words still on her lips, the
phone still sweaty against the side of her head. She used her thumb
and forefinger to massage the bridge of her nose before heaving yet
another sigh and settling the receiver in its cradle.
“Everything okay?” Marty wanted to know.
She waved him off. He knew from long experience this was not one
of those times when it was safe to press. He watched as she gathered
herself.
“What is it you’ve got an exclusive on?” she asked.
“The takeover,” he said tentatively. “The moment when this
guy Driver takes over the prison.”
“And how did we come into possession of this exclusive piece of
media?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Melanie took him at his word and did not press the issue. She had
long since resigned herself to the reality of her profession. Their
job was to get the story and get it out to the public. Along the way,
they sold ads for the program. The more popular the program, the more
expensive the ads. What it took to get the story in the first place
was very nearly a moot point. As long as the means weren’t outright
illegal or the story wasn’t an outright fraud, they could skewer
any other charges on the lance of “the public’s right to know.”
Something in the way he stood his feet, however, caught her eye.
“No problem at all?”
He gave a semishrug and looked away. “The other end’s a little
dicey. Real need to know. Real small group of people who’ve been
privy to the info.”
“So?”
“So it’s not gonna take ’em long to figure out who’s wet
on their end.”
She eyed him closely and rolled a manicured hand around her wrist.
“And thus by extension who’s wet on our end.”
“Yeah,” he admitted.
“I don’t like it,” she said quickly. “We’re not in a
position to weather a lot of heat. At this point—”
“We’re clean on it,” Marty insisted.
Her face was skeptical. “How’s that?”
“I had Jimmy make the connection,” he said, naming one of the
legion of assistant producers roaming the premises. “No other staff
person was involved in any way. The show was never mentioned. This
was strictly a cash-and-carry deal.”
“You’re sure the show wasn’t mentioned?”
“Positive.”
The way he’d described the situation, it wasn’t possible for
him to be sure beyond a doubt, but, in their business, factual leaps
of faith were often required. She let it go.
“And if anybody comes looking for Jimmy?”
Marty’s little boy smile crept over his face. “I sent him back
to L.A. Gave him a week off.” Before she could speak, he went on.
“With pay,” he added with a wink. “Kid’s gonna take his
girlfriend to Cancún.”
She arched her eyebrows. “And this is worth all of that?”
“This”—he waved the jewel case in the air—“puts us right
back on top of the food chain.”
She pointed to the console. Housed inside were the TV set, the VCR
the DVD player.
“Fire it up,” she said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
She gave the words all the positive energy she could muster. She’d
been down this road before only to be disappointed. They hadn’t had
a true exclusive in a long time. Nothing that was worth the hoopla
anyway. A couple of two-day leads on mediocre stories, but that was
about it. After so many false alarms, she found it difficult to
muster a great deal of enthusiasm for anything unseen.
The screen rolled once, then flickered to life. Melanie watched in
silence as Driver accessed the control pod. At the point where Driver
looped the piano wire around the guard’s neck, she began to rise
from the seat, pushing herself sympathetically upward with her arms,
as if drawn on a string, until near the end, when her locked elbows
braced her above the seat bottom and her red mouth hung open like a
scar.
The screen rolled. She dropped back into the seat with a
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