The Stolen - Jason Pinter [46]
sitting at his desk, most likely being defensive.
I got the distinct impression that Wallace was being
read the riot act for something, I just wasn't sure what.
Finally after about twenty minutes, the door opened and
Gray Talbot exited. His navy suit was unruffled, his hair
unmussed, his demeanor unshaken. Whatever he'd come
for today, he'd gotten it.
The Stolen
131
As he walked by he slowed up, turned to me slightly,
leaned in. I could smell his light aftershave, saw a small
nick by his jawbone.
"Parker," he said. "You're better than this. I haven't forgotten what we spoke about. And I hope you haven't,
either."
Before I could ask what the hell he was talking about,
Talbot was in the elevator.
Without waiting another second, I burst into Wallace's
office. The editor-in-chief was sitting down, hands
steepled, chin resting on his thumbs. He looked up at me
without moving, his eyes flickering.
"Sit down, Henry." I sat.
"How did you get that information about Michelle
Oliveira?" he asked. I opened my mouth to speak. "And
if you lie to me you're fired."
I sighed, knew I was cornered, knew there was nothing
I could do.
"I have a contact at the legal aid society. This person
gave me information about the Oliveira case. The police
report, and more." I kept it gender nonspecific, just in
case. "The rest I did myself. Frankly I didn't really need
it, it was just a shortcut--"
"Shortcuts are the death of our industry, Parker,"
Wallace said. "Jayson Blair took shortcuts. Stephen Glass
took shortcuts. I don't expect you to want or need those.
And I hope to God you yourself think you're better than
them."
"It wasn't like that," I said. "I knew there was more
to this Linwood story than was being reported, and I
needed something to tie them together. You know there's
a connection. And without those papers I might not have
found it. You can call it a shortcut, I call it a story worth
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Jason Pinter
investigating. My source is reliable, and the papers are
authentic."
"Ethics and honesty are not always independent of each
other," Wallace said.
I felt my body go slack. "So what now?" I said. "What
did Talbot want?"
"You forget about this story now."
I felt my body go numb. "That's ridiculous. He can't
spike a story because he doesn't like my sources."
"Gray Talbot has threatened to prosecute you, and by
proxy us, if any of what you've told me about Daniel
Linwood or Michelle Oliveira ever runs. He knows that
you obtained those files and he knows you did it illegally,
without the knowledge of the LAS. Like you said, it was
one rogue employee. And like a good politician he's going
to hold it over our heads until we bend to his will. I know
you've worked hard on this, Henry, but let it go."
I stood up. "This is bullshit," I said. "Do you really think
it's the right thing to let it go? Do you honestly believe
there's nothing more to find on this story?"
"We're not crusaders," Wallace said. "We're not vigilantes, or judges or heroes. You are a reporter. Nothing
more or less. It's not my call to say what's right and what's
wrong. But I can tell you what your job is. And as of
Monday, I'll have a new assignment for you. Now go. Get
rid of any files you have. Take the weekend, recharge your
batteries and get ready to kick some ass next week."
"Right. Kick some ass," I said lethargically. I left
Wallace's office without saying another word. I didn't know
if I was going to be able to "recharge" over the weekend,
but one thing was for damn sure. I wasn't getting rid of
those files. And I sure as hell wasn't letting this story go.
16
I called Amanda as soon as I left the office. The call went
straight to her voice mail at work. For a moment my breath
caught in my throat. I prayed she hadn't been fired. Then
I tried her cell phone. When she picked up, her voice
sounded upbeat, familiar. Not the voice of someone whose
life had taken a turn for the worse.
"Oh, thank God, are you OK?" I asked.
"Of course, why wouldn't I be? Is that asteroid finally
headed