Read Online Washington Masquerade by Warren Adler - Free Book Online Page B

can’t be ignored. We’re in the business of telling all sides.”
    â€œDespite your biases?”
    â€œCome on, baby,” he chided her. “Forget that old chestnut. Okay, our editorial policy favors the Administration, but our brief is to tell it like it is. Some people think it was a government hit. We report it as part of the mix.”
    â€œAnd you, Larry, what do you think?”
    He paused, raised himself on one elbow, met her gaze, and chuckled.
    â€œPersonally, I think it’s all bullshit. The President would have to be crazy to have authorized or even consented by silence to do such a thing. It would be madness.”
    â€œSo why even mention it and stir the pot?” Fiona asked.
    â€œBaby, that’s our business, to tell all sides. Some people think it, and if they think it, it should be reported that they think it.” He patted her cheek. “What do you think?”
    â€œIn my business, we speculate, theorize, investigate, look for clues, for evidence. We don’t go off half-cocked.”
    â€œAnd you think we go off half-cocked?” Suddenly, he reached for her hand and moved it on his penis. “Half-cocked won’t cut it.”
    She kept her hand there while he hardened.
    â€œYou play around with it, titillate the public, attribute anonymous sources, and encourage conspiracy theories, deliberately mislead.”
    â€œNow, now, Fi,” he said, removing her hand. “Are you joining the ranks of the media bashers?”
    â€œJoining? I’m a charter member. The
Post
is playing the where-there’s-smoke-there’s-fire game. Read your daily fare, and you imply that persons within or loyalists without might have offed your columnist because he was doing the nasty on the President. Worse,
you
say it’s bullshit.”
    â€œRight. That’s my private opinion. So what? We are in the where-there’s-smoke-there’s-fire business. We don’t moralize like the government hotshots. We tell it as people see it.”
    â€œYou deliberately stoke the fire, get them eyeballs—that’s your bag.”
    Suddenly, she discovered the conversation was kindling her anger. She had always felt animosity for the press. They had pretty well destroyed her father’s career. In Washington, they could play the role of the grim reaper at will.
    â€œLet’s not go there, Fi,” Larry said, turning away. “Besides, I need my sleep.”
    â€œMe, too,” Fiona sighed, trying to reign in her growing animosity. They were, after all, at different ends of the information spectrum. Or were they? For a brief moment, she wondered if she was developing an attitude problem, usually the first faint harbinger of a relationship crash. She turned away from him and tried to will herself to sleep.

Chapter 6
    Fiona and Izzy attended the Burns funeral as observers. Don Grant, the publisher of the
Post
, led a number of eulogizers. Burns was cited for his courage and fearlessness, his humanity, his eloquence, his devotion to his family, his passion for freedom and justice, and the usual clichés. Fiona recognized some political heavies from the current Administration, but mostly those in attendance were from the party out of power, some Senators and Congressmen, and of course, the stalwarts of the Washington media in a show of journalistic solidarity.
    Fiona knew many of the attendees and acknowledged some with a nod or a discreet wave. Izzy noticed and indicated his admiration with a wide-eyed smile.
    â€œMy turf,” she whispered.
    â€œI’m impressed.”
    Larry was in attendance, along with most other key editors. Their gaze had met briefly, and Larry had winked. Fiona blew him a kiss. Izzy noted the gesture and smiled.
    â€œSecond coming,” Izzy whispered. “At the least, sainthood.”
    â€œWhat would you expect?”
    â€œI expect that everyone here believes that the corpse was the victim of deliberate