Jack said. "You know the Kid, or whatever
the hell his real name was, pretty much started the trend of
yellow journalism. His estate should get royalties from the
National Enquirer and Weekly World News. Reporters and
hack novelists all over the country tripped over themselves
to drool over this guy. Made him out to be some kind of hero.
Some kind of Robin Hood. Idolizing celebrities practically
began with the Kid."
"You think that's how this killer sees himself? Offing the
rich and famous to help the poor?"
"Remember he also quoted your ass," Jack said. "Let's just
hope all he's got is an affinity for scary words. In the meantime, we need to stay ahead on this story."
"Stay ahead? What do you mean?"
The Guilty
105
He took another sip and looked at me. And for the first time
since I'd known him, Jack O'Donnell looked worried.
"Paulina," he said.
"What about her?"
"She's selling newspapers."
"Well, that's her job," I said. "From what I hear she just
didn't fit at the Gazette. "
"Maybe not," Jack continued, "but if the Dispatch beats
us to this story, they could see a double digit circulation
growth by the end of the year." I stayed silent. "What that
means, in lay terms, is we'd be fucked."
I considered this. "I know the Dispatch' s circulation is up
since she joined the paper, but I mean..."
"There's been a three percent swing this week alone,
Henry. Whether it's our reporters getting beat to the punch or
her articles attracting our readers, it's happening. These three
murders are the biggest story of the year, everyone with a pen
and a brain trying to get a piece. There's going to be a clear
winner and loser here. We need to make sure we're not the
ones holding the silver."
"They weren't beating us to the punch when I reported
Athena's murder the morning she died," I said, my voice
coming out angrier than I'd hoped.
"That was days ago, Henry," Jack said. He sighed, sank
into the couch. "Since then it's neck and neck. Nobody is
getting new scoops. So it comes down to juice, plain and
simple. Paulina has it, we don't. People want salacious stories,
headlines in bold, and photos of celebrities in bikinis. Only
thing that can distract them from that is real, honest-to-God
news. And until we get that, we're going to get creamed every
day. If two people are tied during the race, everyone stares at
the one wearing flashier clothing."
106
Jason Pinter
"I prefer jeans," I said.
"Don't be a smart-ass. And listen, Henry, you should be
aware of it...Paulina knows you were at the crime scene
today. Knew it before we did, actually."
"What--how is that possible?"
"I think she has some chumscrubber tailing you. But she's
mentioning it in tomorrow's article on the Lourdes murder,
claiming you always find yourself at the scenes of brutal
crimes. Between Fredrickson, Mauser, your quote being
found at Athena's crime scene and being seen talking to a
witness today, she's got enough paint on her brush to level
some pretty brash accusations."
"That was a coincidence. I was talking to a friend. Any
decent reporter would have done the same thing."
"A friend. You mean the cop."
"Yes, a cop friend, Curt Sheffield."
"I know Curt. Seen that recruiting poster everywhere but
my refrigerator."
"Whatever," I said. "Bottom line is I have a lead on a hell
of a story."
"You know, I thought you might."
"That gun, the one the killer is using, there's a reason he's
using it. I'm going to find out what that is. Paulina doesn't have
that. Combine that with this new quote, it's going to fit somewhere." I sat there silent. Watched Jack rattle his empty glass.
Then he stood up, tipped his cap at Amanda, nodded at me.
"Find the story," Jack said. "Behind every murder is a
motive. The cops don't care about that right now, they just
want the man. Motive will come later, once they can be sure
there aren't any more high-caliber bullets aimed at anyone's
skull. So keep on keeping on."
"I
the hell his real name was, pretty much started the trend of
yellow journalism. His estate should get royalties from the
National Enquirer and Weekly World News. Reporters and
hack novelists all over the country tripped over themselves
to drool over this guy. Made him out to be some kind of hero.
Some kind of Robin Hood. Idolizing celebrities practically
began with the Kid."
"You think that's how this killer sees himself? Offing the
rich and famous to help the poor?"
"Remember he also quoted your ass," Jack said. "Let's just
hope all he's got is an affinity for scary words. In the meantime, we need to stay ahead on this story."
"Stay ahead? What do you mean?"
The Guilty
105
He took another sip and looked at me. And for the first time
since I'd known him, Jack O'Donnell looked worried.
"Paulina," he said.
"What about her?"
"She's selling newspapers."
"Well, that's her job," I said. "From what I hear she just
didn't fit at the Gazette. "
"Maybe not," Jack continued, "but if the Dispatch beats
us to this story, they could see a double digit circulation
growth by the end of the year." I stayed silent. "What that
means, in lay terms, is we'd be fucked."
I considered this. "I know the Dispatch' s circulation is up
since she joined the paper, but I mean..."
"There's been a three percent swing this week alone,
Henry. Whether it's our reporters getting beat to the punch or
her articles attracting our readers, it's happening. These three
murders are the biggest story of the year, everyone with a pen
and a brain trying to get a piece. There's going to be a clear
winner and loser here. We need to make sure we're not the
ones holding the silver."
"They weren't beating us to the punch when I reported
Athena's murder the morning she died," I said, my voice
coming out angrier than I'd hoped.
"That was days ago, Henry," Jack said. He sighed, sank
into the couch. "Since then it's neck and neck. Nobody is
getting new scoops. So it comes down to juice, plain and
simple. Paulina has it, we don't. People want salacious stories,
headlines in bold, and photos of celebrities in bikinis. Only
thing that can distract them from that is real, honest-to-God
news. And until we get that, we're going to get creamed every
day. If two people are tied during the race, everyone stares at
the one wearing flashier clothing."
106
Jason Pinter
"I prefer jeans," I said.
"Don't be a smart-ass. And listen, Henry, you should be
aware of it...Paulina knows you were at the crime scene
today. Knew it before we did, actually."
"What--how is that possible?"
"I think she has some chumscrubber tailing you. But she's
mentioning it in tomorrow's article on the Lourdes murder,
claiming you always find yourself at the scenes of brutal
crimes. Between Fredrickson, Mauser, your quote being
found at Athena's crime scene and being seen talking to a
witness today, she's got enough paint on her brush to level
some pretty brash accusations."
"That was a coincidence. I was talking to a friend. Any
decent reporter would have done the same thing."
"A friend. You mean the cop."
"Yes, a cop friend, Curt Sheffield."
"I know Curt. Seen that recruiting poster everywhere but
my refrigerator."
"Whatever," I said. "Bottom line is I have a lead on a hell
of a story."
"You know, I thought you might."
"That gun, the one the killer is using, there's a reason he's
using it. I'm going to find out what that is. Paulina doesn't have
that. Combine that with this new quote, it's going to fit somewhere." I sat there silent. Watched Jack rattle his empty glass.
Then he stood up, tipped his cap at Amanda, nodded at me.
"Find the story," Jack said. "Behind every murder is a
motive. The cops don't care about that right now, they just
want the man. Motive will come later, once they can be sure
there aren't any more high-caliber bullets aimed at anyone's
skull. So keep on keeping on."
"I
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