The Guilty - Jason Pinter [63]
this, they'll give you a big wet one in return for the intel. I want
copy for tomorrow's national edition about both the stolen Winchester and link to Billy the Kid. Just imply there might be a relationship, I don't want anyone jumping to conclusions, but we
need your museum manager to go on the record. You got me?"
"Absolutely," I said.
"Right. Parker, get yourself home and clean up. You look
like you just got mugged in the Gobi desert or something. Hell
of a fucking job, Henry."
"What about Paulina Cole's story?" I asked.
"Fuck Cole," Hillerman said. "Good, honest, unbiased reporting beats out tabloid bullshit any day of the week. You
give our readers something new about this case the Dispatch
doesn't have, Paulina can pen hatchet jobs until her cooch
defrosts, we'll sell more newspapers. Now get to work."
Wallace and I were out the door before he could fish out
another cigar.
29
I got out of the subway and walked toward my apartment.
The last hour had been a whirlwind of debriefing, notes jotted
down with the penmanship of someone born without opposable thumbs, and the sketches for what I knew would be
a terrific and stunning article.
Jack filled me in on David Loverne's murder, which was
nearly unbearable to listen to. I had to distance myself, look at
the situation objectively, try not to think that the murdered man
we were discussing had once hugged me, shook my hand, even
told me he expected great things from me. Had things turned
out differently, the man might have been my father-in-law.
I tried not to think about how it would leave Mya without
a father.
I tried not to think about Paulina's article, written before
Loverne's death. The two had to be related. I was still stunned
by the audacity and hatred steaming from Paulina's article, but
Wallace assured me that I would face no repercussions from
Gazette management, and if need be they would defend me,
publicly. I declined. They'd done enough of that already. After
the debriefings, Wallace and I met with the Gazette' s legal
team to draft a response for any reporters looking for a quote.
The Guilty
189
The letter was brief. It said that Paulina's story was careless
and inflammatory, and any more attempts by this allegedly
balanced news organization to libel without facts would be
met with legal reprimands from the Gazette, and moral reprimands from readers who wouldn't tolerate muckraking.
That part was BS. Readers loved muckraking and, as much
as it pained us, we knew Paulina's article would sell newspapers.
The details of David Loverne's murder were gruesome in
both their brutality and efficiency.
After Paulina's story ran in the Dispatch, in which she
alleged that Loverne's history of infidelity would soon come
to light, the press corps descended on the man's apartment
building eager to take photographs of drawn curtains, berate
cleaning ladies and doormen, and try to scrape up the scraps
Paulina had left under the table. When a person was accused
of wrongdoing, people didn't try very hard to photograph
their good side.
Around five o'clock, Loverne left to attend a previously
scheduled fund-raiser. He was swarmed by dozens of reporters. In what would be viewed as a colossal blunder, Loverne
had no private security, and the elderly doorman was easily
overmatched. As Loverne attempted to push his way through,
a lone rifle shot shattered the commotion, blood splashed
against the glass doors, and David Loverne died.
The photographers spent their entire rolls shooting Loverne's body, the blood pouring from his chest, as well as the
rooftop where it seemed the shot had come from. Several photographers even tried to bully their way into that very building
to either catch the culprit or take photographs of the crime
scene before the police arrived. Thankfully that doorman was
a former cop, realized what was going on and locked the doors.
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Jason Pinter
The shooter was long gone. But by the time the police
arrived, hundreds of photos of Loverne's body were circulating