"Hard News" - читать интересную книгу автора (Deaver Jeffery)

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"What do you want?" The woman's raspy alto V V voice barked. "Whoare you?" She was in her early forties, with a handsome, broad, stern face. Her skin was dry and she wore subtle,

powdery makeup. Eyes: deep gray-blue. Her hair was mostly blonde though it was masterfully highlighted with silver streaks. The strands were frozen in place with spray.

Rune walked up to the desk and crossed her arms.

"I-The phone rang and Piper Sutton turned away, snagged the receiver. She listened, frowning.

"No," she said emphatically. Listened a moment more. Uttered a more ominous "No."

Rune glanced at her cream-colored suit and burgundy silk blouse. Her shoes were black and glistening.

Names like Bergdorf, Bendel and Ferragamo came to mind but Rune had no idea which name went with which article of clothing. The woman sat behind a large antique desk, under a wall filled with blotched and squiggly modern paintings and framed photos of her shaking hands with or embracing a couple of presidents and some other distinguished, gray-haired men.

The phone conversation continued and Rune was completely ignored. She looked around.

Two of the walls in the office were floor-to-ceiling windows, looking west and south. It was on the forty-fifth floor of the Network's parent company building, a block away from the studio. Rune stared at a distant horizon that might have been Pennsylvania. Across from the desk was a bank of five 27-inch NEC monitors, each one tuned to a different network station. Though the volume was down, their busy screens fired an electronic hum into the air.

"Then do it," the woman snapped and dropped the phone into the cradle.

She looked back at Rune, cocked an eyebrow.

"Okay. What it is is this: I'm a cameraman for the local station and I-"

Sutton's voice rose with gritty irritation. "Why are you here? How did you get in?" Questions delivered so fast it was clear she had a lot more where they came from.

Rune could have told her she snuck in after Sutton's secretary went into the corridor to buy tea from the tena.m. coffee service cart. But all she said was "There was nobody outside and I – "

Sutton waved a hand to silence her. She grabbed the telephone receiver and stabbed the intercom button. There was a faint buzz from the outer office. No one answered. She hung up the phone.

Rune said, "Anyway, I – "

Sutton said, "Anyway, nothing. Leave." She looked down at the sheet of paper she'd been reading, brows narrowing in concentration. After a moment she looked up again, genuinely surprised Rune was still there.

"Miss Sutton… Ms. Sutton," Rune began. "I've got this, like, idea – "

"Alike idea? What is alike idea?"

Rune felt a blush crawl across her face.

"I have an idea for a story I'd like to do. For your show. I – "

"Wait." Sutton slapped her Mont Blanc pen onto the desk. "I don't understand what you're doing here. I don't know you."

Rune said, "Just give me a minute, please."

"I don't have time for this. I don't care if you work here or not. You want me to call security?" The phone rose once more.

Rune paused a moment. Took a figurative breath. Okay, she told herself, do it. She said quickly,"Current Events came in at number nine in nationwide viewership according to the CBS/TIME poll last week." She struggled to keep her voice from quavering. "Three months ago it was rated five in the same poll. That's quite a drop."

Sutton's unreadable eyes bore into Rune's. Oh, Christ, am I really saying these things? But there was nothing to do but keep going. "I can turn those ratings in the other direction."

Sutton looked at Rune's necklace ID badge. Oh, brother. I'm going to get fired. (Rune got fired with great regularity. Usually her reaction was to say, "Them's the breaks," and head off to Unemployment. Today she prayed none of this would happen.)

The telephone went back into the cradle. Sutton said, "You've got three minutes."

Thank you thank you thank you…

"Okay, what it is, I want to do a story about-"

"What do you meanyou want to do a story? You said you're a cameraman. Give the idea to a producer."

"I want to produce it myself."

Sutton's eyes swept over her again, this time not recording her name for referral to the Termination Division of the Human Resources Department but examining her closely, studying the young, makeupless face, her black T-shirt, black spandex miniskirt, blue tights and fringy red cowboy boots. Dangling from her lobes were earrings in the shape of sushi. On her left wrist were three wristwatches with battered leather straps, painted gold and silver. On her right were two bracelets – one silver in the shape of two hands gripped together, the other a string friendship bracelet. From her shoulder dangled a leopard-skin bag; out of one cracked corner it bled an ink-stained Kleenex.

"You don't look like a producer."

"I've already produced one film. A documentary. It was on PBS last year."

"So do a lot of film students. The lucky ones. Maybe you were lucky."

"Why don't you like me?"

"You're assuming I don't."

"Well, do you?" Rune asked.

Sutton considered. Whatever the conclusion was she kept it to herself. "You've got to understand. This…" She waved her hand vaguely toward Rune. "… is deja vu. It happens all the time. Somebody blusters their way in- usually after hiding by the filing cabinet until Sandy goes to get coffee." Sutton lifted an eyebrow. "And says, Oh, I've got thislike idea for a great new news program or game show or special or God knows. And of course the idea is very, veryboring. Because young, enthusiastic people are very, veryboring. And nine times out ten-no, ninety-nine times out of a hundred, their great idea has been thought of and discarded by people who really work in the business. You think hundreds of people just like you haven't come in here and said exactly the same thing to me? Oh, note the proper use of the word 'like.' As a preposition. Not an adjective or adverb."

Both phones rang at once and Sutton spun around to take the calls. She juggled them for a while, jamming her short-nailed finger down on the hold button as she switched from one to the other. When she hung up she found Rune sitting in a chair across from her, swinging her legs back and forth.

Sutton gave a harsh sigh. "Didn't I make my point?"

Rune said, "I want to do a story on a murderer who was convicted only he didn't do it. I want my story to get him released."

Sutton's hand paused over the phone. "Here in New York?"

"Yep."

"That's metro, not national. Talk to the local news director. You should've known that in the first place."

"I want it be on Current Events."

Sutton blinked. Then she laughed. "Honey, that's the Net's flagship news magazine. I've got veteran producers lined up for two years with programs they'd kill to air onC. E. Yourlike story ain't getting slotted in my show in this lifetime."

Rune leaned forward. "But this guy has served three years in Harrison state prison-three years for a crime he didn't commit."

Sutton looked at her for a moment. "Where'd you get the tip?"

"He sent a letter to the station. It's really sad. He said he's going to die if he doesn't get out. Other prisoners are going to kill him. Anyway, I went to the archives and looked through some of the old tapes about his trial and-"

"Who told you to?"

"No one. I did it myself."

"Your time or our time?"

"Huh?"

"'Huh?'" Sutton repeated sarcastically. Then, as if explaining to a child: "Were you onyour time or onour time when you were doing this homework?"

"Sort of on my lunch hour."

Sutton said,"Sort of. Uh-huh. Well, so this man is innocent. A lot of innocent people get convicted. That's not news. Unless he's famous. Is he famous? A politician, an actor?"

Rune blinked. She felt very young under the woman's probing eyes. Tongue-tied. "It's sort of, it's not so muchwho he is as it is the fact he was convicted of a crime he didn't commit and he's sort of going to just rot in jail. Or get killed or something."

"You think he's innocent? Then go to law school or set up a defense fund and get him out. We're a news department. We're not in the business of social services."

"No, it'll be a really good story. And it'll be sort of like…" Rune heard her clumsy words and froze.

She must think I'm a total idiot. Sutton raised her eyebrows and Rune continued carefully, "If we get him released then all the other stations and newspapers'll coverus."

"Us?"

"Well, you andCurrent Events. For getting the guy out of jail."

Sutton waved her hand. "It's a small story. It's a local story." Sutton began writing on the sheet of paper in front of her. Her handwriting was elegant. "That's all."

"Well, if you could maybe just keep this." Rune opened her bag and handed Sutton a sheet of paper with a synopsis of the story. The anchor woman slipped it underneath her china coffee cup on the far side of her desk and returned to the document she'd been reading.

Outside the woman's office the secretary looked up at Rune in horror. "Who are you?" Her voice was high in panic. "How did you get in here?"

"Sorry, got lost," Rune said gloomily and continued toward the dark-paneled elevator bank.

The elevator doors had just opened when Rune heard a voice like steel on stone. "You," Piper Sutton shouted, pointed at Rune. "Back in here. Now."

Rune hurried back to the office. Sutton, close to six feet, towered over her. She hadn't realized the anchor-woman was so tall. She hated tall women.

Sutton slammed the door shut behind them. "Sit."

Rune did.

When she too was seated Sutton said, "You didn't tell me it was Randy Boggs."

Rune said, "He's not famous. You said you weren't interested in somebody who wasn't-"

"You should've given me all the facts."

Rune looked contrite. "Sorry. I didn't think."

"All right. Boggscould be news. Tell me what you've found out."

"I read the letter. And I watched those tapes-of the trial and one somebody did of him in prison a year ago. He says he's innocent."

Sutton snapped. "And?"

"And, that's it."

"What do you mean, 'that's it?' That's why you think he's innocent? Because hesaid so?"

"He said the police didn't really investigate the crime. They didn't try to find many witnesses and they didn't really spend any time talking to the ones they did find."

"Didn't he tell that to his lawyer?"

"I don't know."

"And that'sall? Sutton asked.

"It's just that I… I don't know. I looked at his face on the tape and I believe him."

"Youbelieve him?" Sutton laughed again. She opened her desk and took out a pack of cigarettes.

She lit one with a silver lighter. Inhaled for a long moment.

Rune looked around the room, trying to think up an answer to defend herself. Being studied by Piper Sutton knocked most of the thoughts out of her head. All she said was "Read the letter." Rune nodded toward the file she'd given the woman. Sutton found it and read. She asked, "This is a copy. You have the original?"

"I thought the police might need it for evidence if he ever got a new trial. The original's locked in

my desk."

Sutton closed the file. Said, "I guess I'm looking at quite a judge of human character. You're, what, some justice psychic? You get the vibes that this man's innocent and that's that? Listen, dear, at the risk of sounding like a journalism professor let me tell you something. There's only one thing that matters in news: the truth. That's all. You've got a goddamn feeling this man is innocent, well, good for you. But you go asking questions based on rumors, just because you get some kind of psychic fax that Boggs is innocent, well, that bullshit'11 sink a news department real fast. Not to mention your career. Unsupported claims're cyanide in this business."

Rune said, "I was going to do the story right. I know how to research. I know how to interview. I wasn't going to go with anything that wasn't…" Oh, hell: corroborated orcollaborated! Which was it? Rune wasn't good with sound-alike words. "… backed up."

Sutton calmed. "All right, what you're saying is you have a hunch and you want to check it out."

"I guess I am."

"You guess you are." Sutton nodded then pointed her cigarette at Rune. "Let me ask you a question."

"Shoot."

"I'm not suggesting that you not pursue this story."

Rune tried to sort out thenots.

Sutton continued, "I'd never suggest that a reporter shouldn't go after a story he feels strongly about."

Rune nodded, wrestling withthis batch of negatives.

"But I just wonder if your efforts aren't a little misplaced. Boggs had his day in court and even if there were some minor irregularities at trial, well, so what?

"But I just have this feeling he's innocent. What can it hurt to look into it?"

Sutton's matte face scanned the room slowly then homed in on the young woman. She said in a low voice. "Are you sure you're not doing a story aboutyou?"

Rune blinked. "Me?"

"Are you doing a story about Randy Boggs or about a young ambitious journalist?" Sutton smiled again, a smile with a child's fake innocence, and said, "What're you concerned with most-telling

the truth about Boggs or making a name for yourself?"

Rune didn't speak for a minute. "I think he's innocent."

"I'm not going to debate the matter with you. I'm simply asking the question. Only you can answer it. And I think you've got to do a lot of soul-searching to answer it honestly… What happens if-I won't say it turns out he's innocent because I don't think he is – but if you find some new evidence that can convince a judge to grant him a new trial? And Boggs gets released pending that trial? And what if he robs a convenience store and kills the clerk or a customer in the process?"

Rune looked away, unable to sort out her thoughts. Too many tough questions. What the anchorwoman said made a lot of sense. She said, "I think he's innocent." But her voice was uncertain. She hated the sound. Then she said firmly, "It's a story that's got to be done."

Sutton gazed at her for a long moment, then asked, "You ever budgeted a segment on a news program? You ever assigned personnel? You ever worked with unions?"

"I'm union. I'm a camera-"

Sutton's voice rose. "Don't be stupid. I knowyou're union. I'm asking if you've ever dealt with the trades, as management?

"No."

Sutton said abruptly, "Okay, whatever you do, it isn't going to be as sole producer. You're too

inexperienced."

"Don't worry, I'm, like, real-"

Sutton's mouth twisted. "Enthusiastic? A fast learner? Hard working? Is that what you were going to say?"

"I'm good. That's what I was going to say."

"Miracles can happen," Sutton said, pointing a long rudder finger at Rune. "You can be assistant producer. You can report and you can…" Sutton grinned, "'like' write the story. Assuming you write more articulately than you speak. But I want somebody who's been around for a while to be in charge. You're way too-"

Rune stood up and put her hands on the desktop. Sutton leaned back and blinked. Rune said, "I'm not a child! I came here to tell you about a story I think is going to be good for you and for the Network and all you do is insult me. I didn'thave to come here. I could've gone to the competition. I could've just sat on the story and done it myself. But-"

Sutton laughed and held her hand up. "Come on, babes, spare me, please. I don't need to see your balls. Everybody in this business has 'em or they'd be out on their ear in five minutes. I'm not impressed." She picked up her pen, glancing down at the document in front of her. "You want to do the story, go see Lee Maisel. You'll work for him."

Rune stayed where she was for a moment, her heart pounding. She watched as Sutton read a contract as dense as the classified section in the SundayTimes.

"Anything else?" Sutton glanced up.

Rune said, "No. I just want to say I'll do a super job."

"Wonderful," Sutton said without enthusiasm. Then: "What was your name again?"

"Rune."

"Is that a stage name?"

"Sort of."

"Well, Rune, if you're really going to do this story and you don't give up halfway through because it's too much work or too tough or you don't have enough chutzpah-"

"I'm not going to give up. I'm going to get him released."

"No, you're going to find thetruth. Whatever it is, whether it gets him released or proves he kidnapped the Lindbergh baby too."

"Right," Rune said. "The truth."

"If you're really going to do it don't talk to anybody about it except Lee Maisel and me. I want status reports regularly. Verbally. None of this memo bullshit. Got it? No leaks to anyone. That's the most important thing you can do right now."

"The competition isn't going to find out."

Sutton was sighing and shaking her head the same way Rune's algebra teacher had when she'd flunked for the second time. "It's not the competition I'm worried about. I'm worried that you're wrong. That he really is guilty. If we lose a story to another network, well, that happens; it's part of the game. But if there's rumors flying around about a segment we're doing and it turns out to be wrong it's my ass on the line. Comprende, honey?"

Rune nodded and quickly lost the staring contest.

Sutton broke the tension with a question. She sounded amused as she asked, "I'm curious about one thing. "Do you know who Randy Boggs was convicted of killing?"

"I read his name but I don't exactly remember. But what I'll do-"

Sutton held up a hand to cut her off. "His name was Lance Hopper. Does that mean anything to you?"

"Not really."

"It ought to. He was head of Network News here. He was our boss. Now you see why you're playing with fire?"