Abby.”
“Okay, spill it.”
“The man who set the Torso Killer free is working a murder case.”
“Leo Hewitt? Investigating a murder? That’s not possible. What murder?”
“Rachel Lee.”
“Look, why don’t you give me your—”
Anne heard the click of the line disengaging and hung up the phone. She took a notepad from her desk and wrote: Leo Hewitt, Rachel Lee, possible connection with Monty Lee? She looked at the paper a moment, then added: This has got to be bullshit!
Anne Hunter had been the first to break the story about the infighting in the DA’s office during the Guaraldi trial. She’d coined the term every paper in the nation picked up on: The Guaraldi Fiasco . Even the television news shows used it. And it had been the headline of her first lead story: The Guaraldi Fiasco. And thanks to her source on the prosecution team, she had scooped every paper in the nation—as well as television and radio—with Hewitt’s resignation. But then, Hewitt himself had been her source. Who was Mr. Anonymous that had just called her? He had to work in the DA’s office to get that kind of information. If it was true. It would be nice to write another lead story; the only problem was that once Leo had his fall from grace, no one at the DA’s office would talk to her. She’d pretty much burned those bridges. And, truth be told, she’d had something of a hand in Leo’s undoing. Her stories had targeted the entire DA’s office for its mishandling of key evidence, and, at the end, she had singled out Leo for her tirades.
Her last story on the case had been an overview of Leo Hewitt’s legal career and had been titled, The Man Who Set the Torso Killer Free . The story had, in effect, bordered on slander but got her on the short list for the Pulitzer that year. And the woman who had once been as close to a Pulitzer as Roxanne’s trumpet was now covering county zoning meetings. And here she was, wondering if that far-off whistle was the sound of the gravy train pulling back into the station. Maybe it sounded too good to be true, but she’d be a fool not to follow up on it. She picked up the phone and dialed. The number was still as fresh in her mind as it had been three years ago.
“This is Anne Hunter with the Tribune . Put me through to Paula Manning’s office.”
She listened to a series of electronic clicks, then heard the phone ringing on Paula’s secretary’s desk.
“Hi, this is Anne Hunter with the Tribune . I need to speak with Paula. I know she’s not in, but while you’re checking to make sure she’s not in, please tell her I’m running a story on the Lee case and this will be her only opportunity to confirm or deny. I’ll hold.”
She waited for several minutes, and the next voice she heard was Paula’s.
“There is no Lee case. What are you talking about, Anne?”
“Rachel Lee. Your office is investigating her death.”
The line was silent, and Anne knew she’d screwed up. She should have at least confirmed that someone named Rachel Lee had died recently. She could kick herself for being so stupid. She closed her eyes and hoped for the best. Maybe Paula would trip herself up.
“I don’t know what you heard, but it’s wrong.”
Bull’s-eye. “I hear that you have Leo Hewitt working the case. And Paula, I got this from a very reliable source in your own department. I’m running the story whether you confirm it or deny it, but if you do deny it, you’re gonna look like either a liar or an incompetent who doesn’t know what’s going on in her own office. Either way, you’re gonna look bad.”
“Well, that’s your specialty, isn’t it? Making people look bad. It was a nice try, but you can’t bluff me, Anne. If you really had a source that strong, the last thing you would do is call me.”
“I’m not bluffing. Try me.”
“You’re way out of line on this. First of all, the district attorney’s office is not investigating the death of Rachel Lee. It was
“Okay, spill it.”
“The man who set the Torso Killer free is working a murder case.”
“Leo Hewitt? Investigating a murder? That’s not possible. What murder?”
“Rachel Lee.”
“Look, why don’t you give me your—”
Anne heard the click of the line disengaging and hung up the phone. She took a notepad from her desk and wrote: Leo Hewitt, Rachel Lee, possible connection with Monty Lee? She looked at the paper a moment, then added: This has got to be bullshit!
Anne Hunter had been the first to break the story about the infighting in the DA’s office during the Guaraldi trial. She’d coined the term every paper in the nation picked up on: The Guaraldi Fiasco . Even the television news shows used it. And it had been the headline of her first lead story: The Guaraldi Fiasco. And thanks to her source on the prosecution team, she had scooped every paper in the nation—as well as television and radio—with Hewitt’s resignation. But then, Hewitt himself had been her source. Who was Mr. Anonymous that had just called her? He had to work in the DA’s office to get that kind of information. If it was true. It would be nice to write another lead story; the only problem was that once Leo had his fall from grace, no one at the DA’s office would talk to her. She’d pretty much burned those bridges. And, truth be told, she’d had something of a hand in Leo’s undoing. Her stories had targeted the entire DA’s office for its mishandling of key evidence, and, at the end, she had singled out Leo for her tirades.
Her last story on the case had been an overview of Leo Hewitt’s legal career and had been titled, The Man Who Set the Torso Killer Free . The story had, in effect, bordered on slander but got her on the short list for the Pulitzer that year. And the woman who had once been as close to a Pulitzer as Roxanne’s trumpet was now covering county zoning meetings. And here she was, wondering if that far-off whistle was the sound of the gravy train pulling back into the station. Maybe it sounded too good to be true, but she’d be a fool not to follow up on it. She picked up the phone and dialed. The number was still as fresh in her mind as it had been three years ago.
“This is Anne Hunter with the Tribune . Put me through to Paula Manning’s office.”
She listened to a series of electronic clicks, then heard the phone ringing on Paula’s secretary’s desk.
“Hi, this is Anne Hunter with the Tribune . I need to speak with Paula. I know she’s not in, but while you’re checking to make sure she’s not in, please tell her I’m running a story on the Lee case and this will be her only opportunity to confirm or deny. I’ll hold.”
She waited for several minutes, and the next voice she heard was Paula’s.
“There is no Lee case. What are you talking about, Anne?”
“Rachel Lee. Your office is investigating her death.”
The line was silent, and Anne knew she’d screwed up. She should have at least confirmed that someone named Rachel Lee had died recently. She could kick herself for being so stupid. She closed her eyes and hoped for the best. Maybe Paula would trip herself up.
“I don’t know what you heard, but it’s wrong.”
Bull’s-eye. “I hear that you have Leo Hewitt working the case. And Paula, I got this from a very reliable source in your own department. I’m running the story whether you confirm it or deny it, but if you do deny it, you’re gonna look like either a liar or an incompetent who doesn’t know what’s going on in her own office. Either way, you’re gonna look bad.”
“Well, that’s your specialty, isn’t it? Making people look bad. It was a nice try, but you can’t bluff me, Anne. If you really had a source that strong, the last thing you would do is call me.”
“I’m not bluffing. Try me.”
“You’re way out of line on this. First of all, the district attorney’s office is not investigating the death of Rachel Lee. It was
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