Read Online The Anonymous Source by A.C. Fuller - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: A.C. Fuller
Ads: Link
They’re the f-f-future. They’re—”
“That’s great,” Alex cut in. “But right now I need everything we have on Demarcus Downton.”
“Who is he to us?” James asked. His eyes shifted back and forth from Alex to the screens on his desk as he spoke.
“Possible source. He deals pot in Washington Square Park, was arrested at some point, did time at Eastern. Inmate number 76845. May have played sports locally, too.”
James took a long sip of root beer. “He involved in the S-S-Santiago case?”
“Might be,” Alex said. “Hey, do you know any way to trace one of those zero-zero-zero numbers that comes up on a caller ID?”
“Not without a court order and special equipment. C-Companies are using them to get around new t-telemarketing laws.”
Alex walked to the other side of the desk and looked over the screens into James’s eyes. “How do they work?”
James looked up. “You just run a regular phone l-line through a box that hides the c-c-caller ID. Costs a few hundred bucks.”
“How long on the other thing?”
“Half hour.”
“Fifteen minutes,” Alex said over his shoulder, walking across the newsroom. “I need everything you can get in fifteen minutes.”
* * *
Alex knocked as he pushed the door open. “I’ve got something, Colonel.”
“Ever considered waiting until I actually tell you to come in? What if I’d had someone from upstairs in here?”
Alex smiled. “I knew you didn’t. I can tell when you have a boss in here because everyone in the office gets this look like they’re working hard. They don’t have that look today.”
Baxton adjusted a stack of papers so they made a ninety-degree angle with the corner of his desk. “What do you have?”
Alex looked at the papers. “They look straight to me, Colonel.” Baxton didn’t look up, so Alex continued. “I’ve got a guy on the Santiago thing who says he was there that night. Says Santiago didn’t do it.”
Baxton shot up in his seat. “You serious? Is he credible?”
“Not sure yet.”
“Why didn’t he go to the police? Why isn’t he a witness?”
“Let’s just say he lives slightly outside the law. He doesn’t want to have anything to do with the police.”
“A criminal?” Baxton asked.
“You could say that.”
“What does he say happened?”
Alex put his hands in his pockets and paced the office. “Says he saw Santiago in the park that night. Saw the professor, but Santiago never touched him. He identified the professor’s hat, too.”
“He could have gotten that from police reports, or even the paper. We published that. Hell, everyone published that.”
“There’s more. He says—”
“This sounds pretty thin, Vane. I’m not saying don’t work it, but you’re gonna have to do a lot better.”
Alex was startled. He usually got a fatherly pat on the back from Baxton when he had a good lead. “Don’t work it? It may not be true, but if it is, it could be huge for us.”
Baxton stood up. “And get you on TV? You don’t have anything yet. We can’t be the paper that blows up the Santiago case. You know how important it’s been for the city. We love hating this kid.” Baxton smiled. “Are you sure you don’t want there to be something to what he says?”
“What? This isn’t about me.”
“Vane, c’mon. We all know you—”
“Colonel! Listen! He says he has a video.”
“Of what?”
“The night.”
Baxton reached down and straightened his papers for a moment, then slowly looked up. Alex had never seen Baxton look afraid, but his sharp eyes appeared to have receded further into his head.
“What’s on it?” Baxton asked. “How’d he get it?”
Alex felt a knot in his stomach. He had never lied to Baxton before, but he had never had a reason to feel suspicious of him before either. “I don’t know yet. Gonna get it tomorrow.”
Baxton peered over Alex’s shoulder and moved pencils from one cup to another. Alex knew the conversation was over.
When he was
“That’s great,” Alex cut in. “But right now I need everything we have on Demarcus Downton.”
“Who is he to us?” James asked. His eyes shifted back and forth from Alex to the screens on his desk as he spoke.
“Possible source. He deals pot in Washington Square Park, was arrested at some point, did time at Eastern. Inmate number 76845. May have played sports locally, too.”
James took a long sip of root beer. “He involved in the S-S-Santiago case?”
“Might be,” Alex said. “Hey, do you know any way to trace one of those zero-zero-zero numbers that comes up on a caller ID?”
“Not without a court order and special equipment. C-Companies are using them to get around new t-telemarketing laws.”
Alex walked to the other side of the desk and looked over the screens into James’s eyes. “How do they work?”
James looked up. “You just run a regular phone l-line through a box that hides the c-c-caller ID. Costs a few hundred bucks.”
“How long on the other thing?”
“Half hour.”
“Fifteen minutes,” Alex said over his shoulder, walking across the newsroom. “I need everything you can get in fifteen minutes.”
* * *
Alex knocked as he pushed the door open. “I’ve got something, Colonel.”
“Ever considered waiting until I actually tell you to come in? What if I’d had someone from upstairs in here?”
Alex smiled. “I knew you didn’t. I can tell when you have a boss in here because everyone in the office gets this look like they’re working hard. They don’t have that look today.”
Baxton adjusted a stack of papers so they made a ninety-degree angle with the corner of his desk. “What do you have?”
Alex looked at the papers. “They look straight to me, Colonel.” Baxton didn’t look up, so Alex continued. “I’ve got a guy on the Santiago thing who says he was there that night. Says Santiago didn’t do it.”
Baxton shot up in his seat. “You serious? Is he credible?”
“Not sure yet.”
“Why didn’t he go to the police? Why isn’t he a witness?”
“Let’s just say he lives slightly outside the law. He doesn’t want to have anything to do with the police.”
“A criminal?” Baxton asked.
“You could say that.”
“What does he say happened?”
Alex put his hands in his pockets and paced the office. “Says he saw Santiago in the park that night. Saw the professor, but Santiago never touched him. He identified the professor’s hat, too.”
“He could have gotten that from police reports, or even the paper. We published that. Hell, everyone published that.”
“There’s more. He says—”
“This sounds pretty thin, Vane. I’m not saying don’t work it, but you’re gonna have to do a lot better.”
Alex was startled. He usually got a fatherly pat on the back from Baxton when he had a good lead. “Don’t work it? It may not be true, but if it is, it could be huge for us.”
Baxton stood up. “And get you on TV? You don’t have anything yet. We can’t be the paper that blows up the Santiago case. You know how important it’s been for the city. We love hating this kid.” Baxton smiled. “Are you sure you don’t want there to be something to what he says?”
“What? This isn’t about me.”
“Vane, c’mon. We all know you—”
“Colonel! Listen! He says he has a video.”
“Of what?”
“The night.”
Baxton reached down and straightened his papers for a moment, then slowly looked up. Alex had never seen Baxton look afraid, but his sharp eyes appeared to have receded further into his head.
“What’s on it?” Baxton asked. “How’d he get it?”
Alex felt a knot in his stomach. He had never lied to Baxton before, but he had never had a reason to feel suspicious of him before either. “I don’t know yet. Gonna get it tomorrow.”
Baxton peered over Alex’s shoulder and moved pencils from one cup to another. Alex knew the conversation was over.
When he was
Similar Books
