Madigan! I’m sure he would take your call immediately, but he’s participating in a major client presentation and he left specific instructions not to interrupt.”
“Well, I can tell you have the authority to make critical judgments for Dick, Miz Rogers, so I’m going to ask you to decide if you should give him this message: ‘pick up the phone in three minutes and you’ll get a chance to bid on everything I’ve turned up on the Arab antiquities theft during the past eighteen months. If he doesn’t, I’m going to hang up and make the same offer to CBS.”
“Hold on, Miz Madigan, I’ll....”
“OK! OK!” Duncan shouted, waving his arms. “You win this round.”
Andrea made a quick apology to Nuzzo’s secretary and said she would call Dick back later to explain. She still wanted to talk to him, but the urgency had just been removed.
She broke the connection and started moving toward Duncan. “Don’t you ever try to push me against a wall again, you little twerp.” The network division president took an involuntary step back. “Because next time, I will make that call from my own office, and you won’t know shit from Shinola until the entire legal department of my new employer ties you and NNC up with more injunctions than a monkey’s got bananas.” She stopped two feet from where he was standing. “Do you catch my drift, Randy?”
“You will live to regret this incident, Miz Madigan.”
“I keep the artifact story.”
“Do not expect to put me over a barrel like this on every issue, Andrea. I will not be bullied
by an employee.”
“I’ll guarantee that a couple of news orgs will try to grab the limelight by offering a reward for information leading to the antiquities thieves or the artifact itself.”
Duncan’s eyes grew wide as he grasped an idea that would assume an aggressive investigative news posture for the station, and cost nothing unless the artifact became a reality. “So we offer one first!”
“I offer it. During our six o’clock.”
“No, I think it would make more sense from a corporate standpoint if our primary anchor made an announcement of this kind.”
Andrea stood with hands on hips for several moments, her face devoid of expression.
“OK, OK.” He waved a hand in the air. “Offer the damned reward yourself.”
“Randy, my boy, if you just leave me alone to do my job, you’ll have no trouble with me. All I want is to crack this artifact trunk wide open, and put me, NNC, and even you, my chicken-livered child, right up there on top of the news heap for our fifteen minutes of fame and glory.”
“I’m not a bad guy to work with.” Duncan stuck out a hand, which Andrea ignored. “I think, $5, $10,000 will be adequate.”
“People offer a grand to find a missing cat! A disgruntled thief is not going to walk away from millions for a couple of thousand bucks.”
“We don’t have a huge amount of money to throw away on wishful thinking.”
Andrea shook her head in obvious disgust, retrieved her cane and started her lopsided gait out of the room, favoring her left leg that felt like it was dead from the knee down. “Talk to your boss, Rand, the big bean counters. Consult T.P. Let me know before I go on the air.”
On the way back to her office Andrea could sense the looks of awe from fellow employees
as she greeted people she knew and concentrated on minimizing the painful limp from what felt like
the hourly deterioration of her leg. The NNC grapevine worked at light speed, and she realized that the entire company probably knew every word she and Duncan had uttered in his office before she stepped out of the elevator.
Andrea had earned the reputation of an imminently proficient investigative reporter throughout the broadcast news business even before she had joined NNC, yet was also regarded as a profligate iconoclast who was hard to manage. Within the organization, she had become respected and often reviled for the absolute confidentiality with
“Well, I can tell you have the authority to make critical judgments for Dick, Miz Rogers, so I’m going to ask you to decide if you should give him this message: ‘pick up the phone in three minutes and you’ll get a chance to bid on everything I’ve turned up on the Arab antiquities theft during the past eighteen months. If he doesn’t, I’m going to hang up and make the same offer to CBS.”
“Hold on, Miz Madigan, I’ll....”
“OK! OK!” Duncan shouted, waving his arms. “You win this round.”
Andrea made a quick apology to Nuzzo’s secretary and said she would call Dick back later to explain. She still wanted to talk to him, but the urgency had just been removed.
She broke the connection and started moving toward Duncan. “Don’t you ever try to push me against a wall again, you little twerp.” The network division president took an involuntary step back. “Because next time, I will make that call from my own office, and you won’t know shit from Shinola until the entire legal department of my new employer ties you and NNC up with more injunctions than a monkey’s got bananas.” She stopped two feet from where he was standing. “Do you catch my drift, Randy?”
“You will live to regret this incident, Miz Madigan.”
“I keep the artifact story.”
“Do not expect to put me over a barrel like this on every issue, Andrea. I will not be bullied
by an employee.”
“I’ll guarantee that a couple of news orgs will try to grab the limelight by offering a reward for information leading to the antiquities thieves or the artifact itself.”
Duncan’s eyes grew wide as he grasped an idea that would assume an aggressive investigative news posture for the station, and cost nothing unless the artifact became a reality. “So we offer one first!”
“I offer it. During our six o’clock.”
“No, I think it would make more sense from a corporate standpoint if our primary anchor made an announcement of this kind.”
Andrea stood with hands on hips for several moments, her face devoid of expression.
“OK, OK.” He waved a hand in the air. “Offer the damned reward yourself.”
“Randy, my boy, if you just leave me alone to do my job, you’ll have no trouble with me. All I want is to crack this artifact trunk wide open, and put me, NNC, and even you, my chicken-livered child, right up there on top of the news heap for our fifteen minutes of fame and glory.”
“I’m not a bad guy to work with.” Duncan stuck out a hand, which Andrea ignored. “I think, $5, $10,000 will be adequate.”
“People offer a grand to find a missing cat! A disgruntled thief is not going to walk away from millions for a couple of thousand bucks.”
“We don’t have a huge amount of money to throw away on wishful thinking.”
Andrea shook her head in obvious disgust, retrieved her cane and started her lopsided gait out of the room, favoring her left leg that felt like it was dead from the knee down. “Talk to your boss, Rand, the big bean counters. Consult T.P. Let me know before I go on the air.”
On the way back to her office Andrea could sense the looks of awe from fellow employees
as she greeted people she knew and concentrated on minimizing the painful limp from what felt like
the hourly deterioration of her leg. The NNC grapevine worked at light speed, and she realized that the entire company probably knew every word she and Duncan had uttered in his office before she stepped out of the elevator.
Andrea had earned the reputation of an imminently proficient investigative reporter throughout the broadcast news business even before she had joined NNC, yet was also regarded as a profligate iconoclast who was hard to manage. Within the organization, she had become respected and often reviled for the absolute confidentiality with
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