Perhaps once, Paget thought. Perhaps even yesterday. But through Carlo, more surely than in the courtroom, justice had begun exacting its price. His own son would not look at him.
Chapter 13
Jack Slocum, the political reporter, was a slight, sandy-haired man with sharp features, an assertive manner, and a voice that managed to be at once thin and scratchy. There was something unhealthy about him: his skin was pallid, his beard spotty, and his posture slumped; it was easy to imagine him in a bar or coffee shop, trading information and smoking a cigarette. The most lively thing about him was his eyes: he watched Victor Salinas – whose witness he was – with the wary calculation of a man gauging each question for hidden angles. To Paget, he looked untrusting and untrustworthy, a man in his thirties who had already earned his face. Paget loathed him on sight.
‘What a little ferret,’ he murmured to Caroline.
She leaned closer. ‘This particular little ferret,’ she said, ‘is about to give you another motive for killing Richie. This time it’s politics.’
Slocum had not come willingly. Through the lawyer for his newspaper, he had claimed that his testimony was not relevant and would jeopardize his sources. But Salinas had asserted that Slocum was needed to show Paget’s outrage at the damage Richie had done to him, political and personal. For reasons of her own, Caroline had not fought this, and Lerner had permitted the testimony within certain limits. In the end, Paget suspected part of Slocum would enjoy doing harm to his defense.
‘And after Mr Paget began exploring a Senate race,’ Salinas asked him, ‘when did you first speak to him?’
‘Late summer. I’d seen an article in the Inquisitor.’ Slocum darted a look at the jury. ‘Mr Arias accused Mr Paget of stealing his wife.’
‘Any why did this article interest you?’
‘It raised certain questions about Mr Paget’s character, which I believed he should answer. What kind of people seek public office is an important issue, and private character can tell you a lot.’
‘And so you called Mr Paget?’
‘I did.’ Slocum shot Paget a resentful glance. ‘I told him about the article and gave him the opportunity to comment.’
Salinas put his hands in his pockets. ‘And how did Mr Paget respond?’
‘He was very arrogant. As I recall, he told me that Mr Arias had already found his natural audience, and he hoped that Mr Arias wasn’t part of it.’
‘Oh, Christopher,’ Caroline said under her breath. ‘That doesn’t sound like you. No wonder he was so upset.’
The remark made Paget smile. But it did little to dampen the disgust he felt: this man had tried to damage Carlo on the pretext that Paget’s entry into politics had made his son fair game, and now, thwarted and officious, he had begun trying to send Paget himself to jail.
‘Was he merely arrogant?’ Salinas prodded.
‘No. He was quite angry. He called the Inquisitor article libelous, and I would have to characterize his tone of voice as threatening.’
‘How did you respond?’ Salinas asked.
In the jury box, Luisa Marin glanced quickly at Paget. Slocum folded his arms. ‘I told Mr Paget I intended to report that the charges existed and that they could pose a problem for Mr Paget’s campaign.’
‘And did the item actually appear?’
‘No.’ Slocum’s voice became rougher. ‘The publisher of the newspaper, Mr Devine, told my editor not to run the story. I had the impression that Mr Paget may have threatened him with a libel suit.’
‘Move to strike,’ Caroline said promptly, rising to address Judge Lerner. ‘This is not only hearsay but double hearsay: Mr Slocum was not party to his editor’s conversation with Mr Devine or to Mr Devine’s alleged conversation with Mr Paget. And the likely reason this article didn’t run is that no respectable newspaper wants its reporters feeding off the bottom of the journalistic food chain, let alone a garbage trough like the Inquisitor. Especially when its ultimate source is an estranged husband embroiled in a custody suit.’ Her voice turned astringent. ‘Let alone Ricardo Arias.’
Lerner looked to Salinas. ‘She has you, Victor – at least on hearsay.’ He turned to the jury. ‘Mr Slocum has no firsthand knowledge about what Mr Paget may, or may not, have said to Mr Devine. Beyond the fact that his editor directed him not to run the article on Mr Paget, I instruct you to disregard his answer.’
Salinas’s frown, Paget knew, was for show: he had not expected the testimony to be admitted, but the jury would not forget the impression that Paget had gone to great lengths to kill an article that could damage him. ‘All right,’ he said to Slocum. ‘When was the next time that you spoke to Mr Paget?’
‘It was after Mr Arias’s death.’ Slocum seemed to choose his words with care. ‘I became aware that in Mr Arias’s custody suit against Mr Peralta, some papers had been filed under seal, which apparently involved Mr Paget and his son. So I called, Mr Paget – who was still a prospective condidate – and asked if he’d discuss the contents of the filings or, possibly, provide me with a copy.’
‘And what was Mr Paget’s response?’
‘Again, he mentioned a possible libel suit.’ Slocum glanced at Paget. ‘He also said that the article would be damaging to him and expressed outrage that I would print anything about his son.’
Salinas nodded. ‘The defense has characterized Mr Paget’s in these proceedings as a very peaceable man. Was that your experience of this conversation?’
‘Not at all. He has a way of talking that is very cold and very hostile. His tone of voice was extremely angry. All in all, this is a very threatening man.’
‘The little twerp,’ Paget said under his breath. ‘I didn’t threaten him with anything. What does he expect – for people to fall all over him?’
Caroline kept watching the reporter. ‘That’s the general idea.’
‘Did Mr Paget’s anger deter you?’ Salinas asked.
‘No. Like before, I intended to run an article regarding any filings relevant to Mr Paget’s fitness for office or to his viability as a candidate.’
‘And did you run this article?’
‘No.’ For the first time, Slocum smiled. ‘Once more, Mr Devine – my publisher – called and told us not to run the item. Because Mr Paget was withdrawing from the race.’
Glancing at the jury box, Paget saw Joseph Duarte make a note: the jury would not like the notion of an influential man threatening the press, and the article was directly tied to Ricardo Arias.
‘Did you agree with this?’ Salinas asked.
‘No.’ Salinas spread his hands. ‘I don’t want to be vindictive, but this guy might want to run for office again. I thought people should know why he was getting out.’
‘Bully for you,’ Caroline murmured. But her eyes were narrow: as she had feared, Paget’s efforts to protect Carlo were becoming evidence against him.
Pausing, Salinas had the alert posture and voice of a lawyer underlining his ultimate question. ‘In your opinion, Mr Slocum, could Mr Paget’s candidacy have survived exposure of his alleged adultery and the claim that his son had sexually molested Ms Peralta’s daughter?’
Caroline was up quickly. ‘Objection,’ she said. ‘That calls for not only speculation but fortune-telling. There’s no way that this witness can predict the reaction of several million voters over a year after he runs whatever swill he feels is fit to print.’
Salinas shook his head. ‘Your Honor, that objection is ill taken and misinformed. As Mr Slocum is prepared to testify, there are many factors which can end a candidacy well before an election – factors which Mr Slocum, who has reported on politics in the state and city for over five years, is well equipped to address. As, I believe, the defendant acknowledged by telling Mr Slocum that his article could damage him.’
Lerner pondered this with an unhappy look. ‘Overruled,’ he said finally. ‘You may answer, Mr Slocum.’
Slocum nodded briskly, as if pleased at this acknowledgment of his experience
. ‘The short answer,’ he said, ‘was supplied by Mr Paget himself. By getting out before my story could even appear.
‘He was smart to do that.’ Pausing, Slocum tried to look sententious. But the pleasure in his own importance, Paget observed, showed in a certain brightness of the eyes. ‘Even a man as wealthy as Mr Paget needs money to run a statewide campaign – money from unions, agricultural interests, wealthy individuals, and the like. No one as canny as these big contributors will give money to a wounded candidate. And once we report that, and elected officials and party activists read it, a candidate is dead. Period.’ He turned to Paget. ‘This particular aspirant faced a charge of adultery, perhaps survivable in itself. But add that to raising a boy believed to have molested his new lover’s five-year-old daughter, and I can guarantee you that he couldn’t stick it out. Why humiliate yourself politically while dying a slow death? That’s the reason Paget tried so hard to kill this story. Because, in the end, this story killed him.’
Slocum’s voice, casual and a little contemptuous, suggested that Paget was yesterday’s news. The only thing about him still of interest was the murder of Ricardo Arias, and Jack Slocum had just provided the definitive explanation, of Paget’s motive.
‘There are some days,’ Caroline murmured, ‘when I truly like my work.’
Rising, Caroline looked at Slocum with faint distaste. The courtroom was very still.
‘You’re not exactly a supporter of Mr Paget’s, are you?’
Slocum sat back a little. ‘It’s not the function of the press to support anyone, Ms Masters. Our role is to inform the public on things they need to know.’
‘So you don’t feel you treated Mr Paget unfairly?’
‘Not at all.’ He shot a look at Paget. ‘If anything, this man got off light.’
Caroline raised an eyebrow. ‘Am I correct in understanding,’ she asked, ‘that if Mr Paget had supplied you with a copy of the papers filed under seal, you would have published Mr Arias’s charges?’
Slocum nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘And how did you intend to verify whether the charges were true?’
Slocum hesitated. ‘Well, if Mr Paget had been willing to talk to me, I’d have asked him. Or his son, for that matter.’
Caroline looked puzzled. ‘If they had denied the charges, would you still have printed them?’
‘Along with the denials, yes.’
‘In fact, you don’t know whether it is true that Mr Paget had an affair with Ms Peralta, do you?’
Slocum folded his arms. ‘No.’
‘And you also don’t know whether Carlo Paget, then aged fifteen, molested a little girl.’
‘I know that the charges were made.’
‘Yes or no,’ Caroline snapped.
Slocum’s mouth became a stubborn line. ‘No.’
‘That’s better. Is it fair to say, Mr Slocum, that these charges are hurtful to Mr Paget and his son?’
‘I already said that.’
‘And that Mr Arias – as the contestant in a custody suit – might wish to hurt them both?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Then why don’t we also suppose, Mr Slocum, that these charges are false? Do you think printing false and denigrating charges is fair to Mr Paget or his son?’
‘Objection,’ Salinas interjected. ‘Ms Masters is badgering this witness to no purpose, about complex journalistic judgment calls which have no relevance to this case.’
Caroline shook her head. ‘We believe they do, Your Honor. Just as we believe that this witness has been less than candid. With the court’s permission, I believe that I can demonstrate both points. Both of which, I might add, suggest that Mr Slocum is biased against Christopher Paget.’
Lerner looked perturbed: Paget sensed that his natural solicitude for the press was at war with his concern for Paget’s own rights. ‘You may continue,’ he said, ‘for the moment. But unless you show relevance in fairly short order, Ms Masters, I’ll cut you off without prompting by Mr Salinas.’
‘Thank you,’ Caroline said, and turned back to Slocum. ‘Do you,’ she demanded, ‘think it’s fair to print false charges?’
Slocum sat straighter. ‘There’s the public interest to consider – in this case, the interest in the character of people running for office, including the desire to cover things up. The fact that charges are made is important for its own sake. Put simply, it’s news.’
‘Would you also say that there is a public interest in the character of people who report the news?’
‘Objection,’ Salinas stood. ‘This is not only irrelevant, it’s harassment.’
‘Irrelevant?’ Caroline asked. ‘Not to this witness.’
‘Sustained.’ Lerner leaned foward. ‘Please be warned, Ms Masters – this is not a forum for your views regarding Mr Slocum’s reportage.’
‘I understand, Your Honor.’ She turned to Slocum. ‘Am I correct that one of your reasons for calling Mr Paget was to get a copy of Mr Arias’s papers?’
A moment’s pause. ‘Yes.’
Caroline put her hands on her hips. ‘But didn’t you already have a copy?’
Salinas, Paget saw, was poised to rise. On the stand, Slocum looked to the prosecutor, then to Lerner. Quietly, Caroline said, ‘Just answer the question, Mr Slocum.’
‘Your Honor,’ Slocum said to Lerner, ‘I believe this may come within the California shield law. Entitling a reporter to protect his sources.’
‘When I want to ask Mr Slocum for his sources,’ Caroline rejoined, ‘everyone here will know it, and Mr Slocum will not have to use the shield law simply to shield himself.’
Lerner smiled a little, turning to Slocum. ‘You may answer the question, Mr Slocum.’
‘I’ll be happy to repeat it,’ Caroline said. As she faced Slocum, her voice turned hard. ‘When you called Mr Paget, asking for a copy of Mr Arias’s charges, you already had a copy, didn’t you?’
Slocum shifted in the witness box. ‘Yes,’ he said finally.
‘So when you suggested to Mr Paget that you needed a copy, you weren’t exactly candid, were you?’
‘I didn’t think I needed to tell him everything.’
‘Is that also true of Judge Lerner and the jury? When, not half an hour ago, you suggested that you had called Mr Paget again at least partly to secure a copy.’
‘I never said I didn’t have a copy.’ Slocum turned to Judge Lerner. ‘In both cases, I was trying to protect my source.’
‘No,’ Caroline snapped. ‘You were lying. But let’s move on. I take it that the person who provided you with the papers was not Ricardo Arias. Or you would have called Mr Paget about their contents long before you did.’
Once more, Slocum looked to Lerner for assistance. ‘Your Honor, I really believe these questions impinge on my sources.’
‘At the time of your call,’ Caroline said in acid tones, ‘Ricardo Arias was dead. If he gave you the papers, it really is news.’
Salinas, Paget thought, was curiously inactive; for whatever reason, he seemed content to let this pass without protest. ‘You may answer,’ Lerner told Slocum. ‘Did you receive these papers from Mr Arias?’
Slocum shook his head. ‘No, Your Honor.’
‘That’s a relief. Proceed, Ms Masters.’
Caroline moved closer. ‘How did you get them, Mr Slocum?’ She gave him a chilling smile. ‘No names, please. I wouldn’t want to reveal your sources.’
‘A third party gave them to me.’
‘And did this nameless someone tell you where he’d gotten them? Seeing how they weren’t publicly availiable.’
‘No.’
‘You didn’t think your source got them from Mr Paget, did you?’
‘I guess not.’
‘And Ms Peralta had also refused to give you a copy, correct?’
‘Correct.’
‘That pretty much leaves Mr Arias, doesn’t it?’ For a split second, Caroline paused. ‘Dead or alive.’
‘Objection.’ Salin
as said reflexively. ‘Calls for speculation.’
Caroline turned on him. ‘As to what, Victor? Whether Mr Slocum’s nameless source received the papers from Mr Arias in a living state or after Mr Arias was deceased? In which case I would think that the district attorney would be even more enthralled with talking to his person than I am.’
It was lovely, Paget thought. In one deft response, Caroline had introduced the anonymous source as a party to shady dealings with Ricardo Arias and, at least possibly, to his murder. Even Salinas looked nonplussed: he was suddenly confronted with the prospect of protecting Slocum’s source – certainly in the best interests of his boss, McKinley Brooks – while permitting Caroline to suggest that he was concealing a key witness. The alternative was to expose the source as an agent of James Colt and demonstrate that, however lethal the man’s political designs might have been for Paget, literal murder was not among his assignments. Whatever Salinas’s choice, Paget did not envy him.
‘Let me suggest this compromise,’ Salinas said to Judge Lerner. ‘The district attorney will, of course, explore this matter with Mr Slocum in private. For present purposes, I suggest that he identify the source by occupation only, but testify fully and completely about the content of their conversations.’
This was shrewd, Paget saw: it preserved Salinas’s options until he spoke to Brooks, while permitting testimony that might make the unknown source seem a little less sinister. As for Caroline, she might move to dismiss the charges if the source was not revealed, arguing that a material witness was being withheld; on the other hand, revelation of the source – if this was her reward for cornering Brooks – might be far less useful than a shadowy figure. Watching from the stand, Slocum looked somewhat diminished and completely lost.
‘Very well,’ Caroline told Lerner. ‘If that solution is agreeable to the court, why don’t we at least try it. Until we’ve all had time to think.’
Lerner steepled his hands. ‘For the moment, we’ll proceed. But this has to be resolved, by agreement or otherwise, before this trial is over. I’d like to minimize the risk of reversible error.’
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