then took a leap and added the fact that we were investigating, without having certain knowledge that we were.
Such a guess would have been logical, and the penalty for being wrong would not have been significant. So he might have written his educated guess, which happened to be right.
But whatever the impact that this story might or might not have, it was a situation that we’d have to deal with. There would likely be other situations, as the investigation wore on, in which secrecy would be essential.
“You think it came from our people?” Hank asked.
“Decent chance of it. I doubt it was Brus, and Matt is spending so much time being a star that it’s a long shot he came up with it on his own.”
There was one more aspect of it that bothered me, but I didn’t mention it to Hank. Matt’s story had referred to the frustration I had felt when Price walked for the killing, yet I had taken pains not to reveal that publicly at all. The few comments I had made at the time were professional, and mostly paid lip service to our justice system needing to be adhered to.
People in the department would no doubt have been aware of my attitude toward the murder charges being dropped, and my dislike of Price. While no one was aware that I had broken his ribs, I doubt if my people would have been surprised by it. That was the major reason that I thought this leak had come from within.
One thing was for sure: if I found out who the leaker was, he or she would no longer be “within” the department.
“Okay. Let me take care of it,” Hank said. “You can always come in with the hammer later, if it continues. But for now I think I should talk to people individually.”
So Hank went off to do that, and later in the day came back to report on his conversations. “I didn’t accuse anybody,” he said. “I just talked about the need to keep things in house, and not to have contact with the media.”
“What were the reactions?”
“Just what you’d think. Everyone agreed leaking was terrible, and vowed that they would never do it.”
“So you have any ideas who might have?”
He thought for a moment and then shook his head. “Nope. But I’ll keep on it.”
I turned on the television the next morning to get the weather, and saw Matt Higgins. He was talking to Matt Lauer on the Today Show about the capsule story, and the attempt on his life. He was doing well, expressing concern about the victims and modesty about the stories he was writing.
I had a number of different reactions to the interview, though, and none of them was positive.
For one thing, it would firmly make the story a national one, which meant that Wilton was about to be besieged by outside media people. This could only make my job more difficult, and it already seemed difficult enough.
The other problem about the interview was more worrisome. I was seriously concerned that the FBI was going to come in, as they often do when stories like this break out into the public consciousness. It’s not that I feel overly competitive with them, although there is some of that. I just didn’t think they’d have much to bring to the party right then; this was local, and involved local people.
But if they wanted to come in, there’d be no way to keep them out. They could trump up a reason for believing that the criminals had crossed state lines at some point in their conspiracy, or that the fire represented a terrorist attack. They could come in with impunity, because no one, least of all the town of Wilton, would have the power to keep them out.
What could we do? Sue them?
It was about seven hours later that my prediction proved right. Two guys came into my office who looked so much like FBI agents that I was surprised “FBI” wasn’t branded into their foreheads.
They introduced themselves as Special Agent Sean Bennett and Special Agent Steve Barone, showing me their badges as they spoke their names, in almost a synchronized movement.
“Are
Such a guess would have been logical, and the penalty for being wrong would not have been significant. So he might have written his educated guess, which happened to be right.
But whatever the impact that this story might or might not have, it was a situation that we’d have to deal with. There would likely be other situations, as the investigation wore on, in which secrecy would be essential.
“You think it came from our people?” Hank asked.
“Decent chance of it. I doubt it was Brus, and Matt is spending so much time being a star that it’s a long shot he came up with it on his own.”
There was one more aspect of it that bothered me, but I didn’t mention it to Hank. Matt’s story had referred to the frustration I had felt when Price walked for the killing, yet I had taken pains not to reveal that publicly at all. The few comments I had made at the time were professional, and mostly paid lip service to our justice system needing to be adhered to.
People in the department would no doubt have been aware of my attitude toward the murder charges being dropped, and my dislike of Price. While no one was aware that I had broken his ribs, I doubt if my people would have been surprised by it. That was the major reason that I thought this leak had come from within.
One thing was for sure: if I found out who the leaker was, he or she would no longer be “within” the department.
“Okay. Let me take care of it,” Hank said. “You can always come in with the hammer later, if it continues. But for now I think I should talk to people individually.”
So Hank went off to do that, and later in the day came back to report on his conversations. “I didn’t accuse anybody,” he said. “I just talked about the need to keep things in house, and not to have contact with the media.”
“What were the reactions?”
“Just what you’d think. Everyone agreed leaking was terrible, and vowed that they would never do it.”
“So you have any ideas who might have?”
He thought for a moment and then shook his head. “Nope. But I’ll keep on it.”
I turned on the television the next morning to get the weather, and saw Matt Higgins. He was talking to Matt Lauer on the Today Show about the capsule story, and the attempt on his life. He was doing well, expressing concern about the victims and modesty about the stories he was writing.
I had a number of different reactions to the interview, though, and none of them was positive.
For one thing, it would firmly make the story a national one, which meant that Wilton was about to be besieged by outside media people. This could only make my job more difficult, and it already seemed difficult enough.
The other problem about the interview was more worrisome. I was seriously concerned that the FBI was going to come in, as they often do when stories like this break out into the public consciousness. It’s not that I feel overly competitive with them, although there is some of that. I just didn’t think they’d have much to bring to the party right then; this was local, and involved local people.
But if they wanted to come in, there’d be no way to keep them out. They could trump up a reason for believing that the criminals had crossed state lines at some point in their conspiracy, or that the fire represented a terrorist attack. They could come in with impunity, because no one, least of all the town of Wilton, would have the power to keep them out.
What could we do? Sue them?
It was about seven hours later that my prediction proved right. Two guys came into my office who looked so much like FBI agents that I was surprised “FBI” wasn’t branded into their foreheads.
They introduced themselves as Special Agent Sean Bennett and Special Agent Steve Barone, showing me their badges as they spoke their names, in almost a synchronized movement.
“Are
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