The Fury - Jason Pinter [92]
I told Clarence about his father and Jack's book. I
needed to know if he knew anything else about his
father's murder or business practices. Clarence was
eight years old when his father died. There's a chance
he remembered something.
"I don't talk about this stuff over the phone,"
Clarence said.
"Well, my story is running tomorrow," I lied. "If you
see me in person, we can talk about you giving me in
formation as an unnamed source. If you don't cooper
ate, I can't promise anything."
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Jason Pinter
I heard a rustling noise in the background. Then a
female voice said, "Who is it?"
I must have interrupted Clarence. Too bad for him.
He shushed whoever was there and said, "Listen,
man, I'll tell you whatever I know about my dad, but
this is opening some seriously old wounds."
"Great. I'll be there in half an hour. What's your
address?"
He gave me his address, which I jotted down before
hanging up.
I checked my watch. It was almost noon. I stopped
at a Staples store and bought a new tape recorder, some
pens and paper. These were the tools I brought along
when conducting interviews, when talking to sources.
I hadn't used them much recently because this investi
gation had been more personal than professional. I
thought everything revolved around my father's arrest.
Only now could I see how wrong I'd been.
28
I kissed Amanda goodbye, made sure I was presentable
and headed uptown to meet Clarence Willingham.
I rode the 2 train to 116th and Lenox Avenue. It was
a hot day outside, the breeze that had felt so cool on our
balcony gone.
Morningside Park was actually part of a cliff that sep
arated Manhattan from Morningside Heights. It was
also the location of a massive protest in 1968, when
students of Columbia University staged a sit-in in and
around the proposed construction of a gymnasium on
the park grounds. With separate east and west entrances,
many assumed this was to segregate the gym between
black and white. University spokesmen denied the
claims, but abandoned the plans after students barri
caded themselves inside numerous university buildings.
After a group of students opposed to the protests
blockaded the occupied buildings, police came in to end
the struggle. Over one hundred and fifty students were
injured during the forced removal, and over seven
hundred were arrested. Because of the terrible public re
lations, specifically stemming from the student-on
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Jason Pinter
student violence, Columbia scrapped its plans and built
an underground gym instead. Ironically the blueprints
for the gym were then sold to Princeton University,
which appropriated them for their own use.
The address Clarence gave me was for a five-story
brownstone within walking distance of the park. A
pretty nice neighborhood. The Columbia campus stood
directly on the opposite side of Morningside Park, and
though Clarence did live far from student housing, the
university owned such huge swaths of real estate in
upper Manhattan that the neighboring streets were clean
and graffiti free, devoid of clutter and garbage. It must
have looked great in a brochure.
Before turning onto Clarence's block, I called
Amanda's cell phone. She picked up, answering with a
hard-to-distinguish, "Heh-wo?"
"Amanda?" I said. "Everything okay?"
"Eating," she said, removing whatever had been in
her mouth. "Chocolate-covered strawberry. I swear, we
need to move in here."
"Where did you buy that?"
"I didn't buy it. They were in a small tin by the tele
vision. I think they're complimentary."
"Amanda," I said, shaking my head, "nothing in
hotels is complimentary. Check the box."
"Hold on." I heard her ruffling with something, then
whisper oh hell under her breath.
"What happened?"
"Um...you know that bonus I got for Christmas?"
"Yeah?"
"Well, it's going to have to go toward paying off
these strawberries."
The Fury
269
"It's okay," I said. "Just enjoy them. Watch some
thing crappy on television, I'll be back later."
"Okay, fine, I'll finish them. Be careful, babe. See
you soon. Love you."