parties. Benefits. I’d come home feeling like I should check my shoes to make sure I didn’t drag the crap from my life into hers. "
They were both quiet, the dimness of the room almost intimate. On the monitor, Neal Cravens got up from the news desk and walked out of the picture. A moment later, the studio lights went off and the screen went black.
Jake reached over and flicked off the monitor. " We’ll look at my masters instead of the ones I made for you. We’ll get better resolution with them."
" This one has the breaking news coverage from last night," she continued, lifting the top tape in her stack of three. " The next is the actual fireworks program up to the explosion, and this one, " she indicated the third cassette, " is all the B-roll, the stuff we didn’t use. What do you want to see? "
" The close-up view you showed right after the explosion. I assume Burns shot it from the next barge. "
Jake flushed. "Actually, I will need your tape then. That footage isn't on any of these."
She set down the tape she had picked up, and Simon cocked his head at her. "I thought you had the masters. How can there be something on mine that isn't on yours?"
Jake was squirming. She looked at him, then away, then back again. "There's a gap on the masters. Like the Watergate tapes."
"A gap? You mean they've been erased? By who?"
"Taped over, actually. And by me." She was back to not looking at him.
He didn't get it. Why would Jake destroy the footage unless there was something on it she wanted to hide? But if that were so, why did she give it to him in the first place?
He asked her, swiveling her chair around to so she faced him.
"I didn't want to chance anyone airing it again." She cl eared her throat. "T he night of the explosion, it felt like the worst kind of voyeurism. Pasquale deserved better. We all deserve better."
Simon nodded. You could question the woman's methods, but not her motives. "But isn't that destroying station property?"
"Heck, yeah." Jake cracked a grin. "But you're talking to the woman who lost an entire truck. What's one little section of tape?"
Simon didn't think she was quite as unconcerned as she pretended. He held out the box to her. "Let's see it."
Jake selected a tape and stuck it into a slot on the console. She turned a knob clockwise, and the image on the screen raced ahead. When she reached the place she was looking for, she turned the knob the other way, and the tape rewound and then slowed to normal speed. Sure beat the clunkiness of a regular VCR. Sometimes Simon felt like he could go out for pizza in the time it took for his machine to move from rewind to play. Yet another reason why DVDs deserved to send videotapes into extinction.
" Here it is, " Jake said.
Simon leaned forward. You could see Pasquale clearly in the reflected light of the flare he held. As they watched, he came forward and leaned down to light the quickmatch. A flash of light and the fire ran up the fuse to the first shell as the old man stepped back and turned his face skyward.
A small flash and a whoosh as the first shell went up. Simon checked the clock on the editing console. Three seconds later, another flash, another whoosh. And three seconds later...nothing.
" Stop it here, " Simon said, " and run it back for me. If you slow it down, will the clock still show elapsed time? "
" It will slow down to match the tape," Jake confirmed. "Why? What do you see? "
" Nothing, that’s the thing. " Simon pointed at the screen as the tape started to run in slow motion. " Look here. Pat said there was a three-second time fuse between the first and second shell and the second and third." He counted as the clock on the console ticked off the seconds, also in slow motion. "One...two ...three... There goes the second shell, see it? " He traced the path of the shell with his finger. " Three more seconds, the third one should go up. "
" But we know it didn’t. It exploded on the barge, " Jake stopped the tape.
"
They were both quiet, the dimness of the room almost intimate. On the monitor, Neal Cravens got up from the news desk and walked out of the picture. A moment later, the studio lights went off and the screen went black.
Jake reached over and flicked off the monitor. " We’ll look at my masters instead of the ones I made for you. We’ll get better resolution with them."
" This one has the breaking news coverage from last night," she continued, lifting the top tape in her stack of three. " The next is the actual fireworks program up to the explosion, and this one, " she indicated the third cassette, " is all the B-roll, the stuff we didn’t use. What do you want to see? "
" The close-up view you showed right after the explosion. I assume Burns shot it from the next barge. "
Jake flushed. "Actually, I will need your tape then. That footage isn't on any of these."
She set down the tape she had picked up, and Simon cocked his head at her. "I thought you had the masters. How can there be something on mine that isn't on yours?"
Jake was squirming. She looked at him, then away, then back again. "There's a gap on the masters. Like the Watergate tapes."
"A gap? You mean they've been erased? By who?"
"Taped over, actually. And by me." She was back to not looking at him.
He didn't get it. Why would Jake destroy the footage unless there was something on it she wanted to hide? But if that were so, why did she give it to him in the first place?
He asked her, swiveling her chair around to so she faced him.
"I didn't want to chance anyone airing it again." She cl eared her throat. "T he night of the explosion, it felt like the worst kind of voyeurism. Pasquale deserved better. We all deserve better."
Simon nodded. You could question the woman's methods, but not her motives. "But isn't that destroying station property?"
"Heck, yeah." Jake cracked a grin. "But you're talking to the woman who lost an entire truck. What's one little section of tape?"
Simon didn't think she was quite as unconcerned as she pretended. He held out the box to her. "Let's see it."
Jake selected a tape and stuck it into a slot on the console. She turned a knob clockwise, and the image on the screen raced ahead. When she reached the place she was looking for, she turned the knob the other way, and the tape rewound and then slowed to normal speed. Sure beat the clunkiness of a regular VCR. Sometimes Simon felt like he could go out for pizza in the time it took for his machine to move from rewind to play. Yet another reason why DVDs deserved to send videotapes into extinction.
" Here it is, " Jake said.
Simon leaned forward. You could see Pasquale clearly in the reflected light of the flare he held. As they watched, he came forward and leaned down to light the quickmatch. A flash of light and the fire ran up the fuse to the first shell as the old man stepped back and turned his face skyward.
A small flash and a whoosh as the first shell went up. Simon checked the clock on the editing console. Three seconds later, another flash, another whoosh. And three seconds later...nothing.
" Stop it here, " Simon said, " and run it back for me. If you slow it down, will the clock still show elapsed time? "
" It will slow down to match the tape," Jake confirmed. "Why? What do you see? "
" Nothing, that’s the thing. " Simon pointed at the screen as the tape started to run in slow motion. " Look here. Pat said there was a three-second time fuse between the first and second shell and the second and third." He counted as the clock on the console ticked off the seconds, also in slow motion. "One...two ...three... There goes the second shell, see it? " He traced the path of the shell with his finger. " Three more seconds, the third one should go up. "
" But we know it didn’t. It exploded on the barge, " Jake stopped the tape.
"
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