“Sure, Poppy. How much are you paying me for today?”
“I was thinking a hundred bucks, but since the video is top quality and right on point and you’re writing a piece to boot, I’ll kick it up to two – after I receive and approve the text. You want me to put the money into your PayPal account?”
“Sure, Poppy, that’ll work. I’ll get that text to you as quickly as I can.”
Chapter 40: Brilliant Spin
December 22, 8:30 a.m.
J-3’s video-text post went up on The Vindicator early that evening under the headline TOP HODGE AIDE: THUG SCANDAL NOT MY DOING. His story, which required minimal editing, explained the role that Complet played as Hodge’s general counsel. Many believed that he was behind the scandal plaguing the governor’s departments of Agriculture and Revenue. That justified The Vindicator’s attempt to interview him. Emery added language detailing the Agriculture Department payments to Alpha-Omega Construction, as documented in the public record. He included Swindle’s assertion that Complet bullied her into funneling tax money, a little over $1.3 million, to Alpha-Omega over the past four years.
“The Vindicator,” he wrote, “has established that Alpha-Omega is part of Richards Security, a private security firm based in Sadorus, Okla.”
As Emery reviewed the post online, he reflected that some readers would see it as an video assault on a man who, as Schroeder observed, had become “everybody’s favorite whipping boy.” A corporate news organization might withhold the package for further reporting on the ground that it entered few new facts into the public record and that some of those facts were unsupported allegations.
But Emery saw Complet’s menacing reaction to J-3’s questioning as the most salient fact of all: A top official who was not part of the ARC scandal would have reacted to J-3’s questions with fear and indignation. An innocent official would not have threatened the reporter with bodily harm while confiscating his notebook in hope of choking off an unfavorable story. An innocent official would not have revealed that he already knew the gender of the secret license-tag database informant.
Now, the following morning, as Emery sipped his coffee and booted up his computers, he noted that J-3’s post on Complet had already racked up more than a thousand page views, and that hundreds of users had already watched the video. The package had also garnered more than 200 comments, many of them requests for dialogue with the author or for more information.
So he called J-3 in Lawrence, waking him up, and told him to get online as soon as he could to respond to comments. This was a responsibility that went with the assignment. Observing that “you’re really making me work for that money, Poppy,” the kid promised to do his father’s bidding.
Emery saw an opportunity to draw the kid deeper into the business. “Tell you what, J-3. I’ll pay you for your time today and in the future, at a rate of, say, $15 an hour. I need a part-time editor to monitor and respond to comments on this post, past posts and future posts. As part of the deal, you would alert me to comments needing my attention. But you’d have to promise to do that work at least five days per week, at least for a few minutes and longer as needed. Interested?”
“Sure, Poppy, if you back me up. And I’d need $20 an hour. I promise to keep honest track of my time.”
“Deal,” Emery said, smiling. That was the number he'd had in mind. “Gotta go. Thanks, son.”
Then Emery opened his e-mail. There were dozens of new messages but none that needed immediate responses. His cell phone voicemail was a different story: Two calls from Schroeder, a call from Harmon and a call from a northern Kansas number he didn’t recognize.
He played that message. “Mr. Emery. This is Ernest Complet. Your video trick was beyond the pale of journalistic standards, but I do appreciate that you posted it under an accurate headline. Obviously, I lost my cool a little toward the end of the interview with your son. He grated on me. It also grates on me that you say Eunice Swindle implicated me in crimes but present no evidence she actually said this. No video tricks for her, apparently. But in total, your piece presents me as what I am: an innocent victim of unfounded speculation. I thank The Vindicator for the opportunity to get my denials on record and ask that you post this audio message as my response to the piece. Thanks, Joe.”
Complet, Emery was forced to admit, had spun the interview brilliantly. He regretted that he’d failed to make an audio recording of his conversation with Swindle. That was the glaring weakness in yesterday’s post, and Complet had pounced on it. However, there was no spinning away the menace that J-3’s questions about Alpha-Omega and the secret license tags had evoked. Nor could Complet spin away the fact he that knew Emery’s – and Harmon’s – Revenue Department informant was a woman.
So he uploaded Complet’s audio response and posted it under the headline, COMPLET: I’M A VICTIM OF ‘UNFOUNDED SPECULATION.’ Some readers might be taken in by the noir prince’s spin, but that was the beauty of blogs: More astute readers would set them straight.
Harmon’s message was angrily brief: “This message is not for publication. I’m doubly pissed at you. You broke your promise not to say anything about Alpha-Omega. And you should have realized that Complet is a person of interest for the KCID. Call me back to hash this out.”
He called Harmon’s mobile number, getting the AG’s voicemail. After the beep, he said: “This is Joe Emery. I promised not to mention Alpha-Omega only for my piece on the Swindle murders last week. The company’s involvement with the ARC is a matter of public record, Mike. I obtained the documents establishing that, and proved the Richards Security link to Alpha-Omega, through my own initiative.”
Carol walked into the study cradling a cup of coffee. He blew her a kiss, raised a finger and continued: “It was only a matter of time until other reporters caught up with The Vindicator, Mike, so I went public with the Complet interview. He may be a person of interest to law enforcement, but he’s also a public figure, hence fair game. So no apology for that, either. If you have a problem with that, too bad. As I’ve shown repeatedly, I can do my job without your help.” He shut off the call.
Carol asked, “Who was that?”
“Harmon. He left me a nasty message because I went public with Alpha-Omega and the Richards link in the piece on Complet.”
“And you responded in kind,” she said worriedly.
“I wasn’t as nasty as he was, just forceful. He keeps trying to encroach on my boundaries and to enlist me as a junior G-man.”
“All I know, Joe, is that we need as many friends as possible. No need to alienate a man like that. I hope you can reconcile with him. He’s close to Aaron Renke, and we’re under Aaron’s protection. I don’t want to jeopardize that.”
“You’re right,” Emery said. He re-called Harmon’s number. He got voicemail again. “Joe again. I came on a little strong there, Mike, and I apologize. I understand why you’re upset and now you understand how I feel. Call me back, please, so we can talk this out.
“Merry Christmas to you and your family, Mike. Kansas is blessed to have diligent public servants like you.”
“Now that’s laying it on a little thick,” she said.
He smiled at her. “One more call to return. Schroeder. You should listen.” He clicked on her number and turned on the phone’s speaker.
“Boy was that post terrific,” Schroeder said by way of answer. “You nailed Complet good.”
“I’m surprised, Natascha. I figured you were calling to chew me out.”
“I am, Emery. That’s what Mrs. Hodge asked me to do. That’s what I’ll tell her I did.”
“Did you listen to Complet’s audio response? It’s up on the blog.”
“I did, before I left my condo, but those who know him won’t buy into his spin. Your son nailed his balls to the wall. Nice work.”
“Why the enthusiasm, Natascha? You’re raising my hackles a little.”
“Screw your hackles. I thought we had a new working relationship.”
; “Where are you right now?”
“In my car on the way in to the Capitol. What else do you want to know, what I’m wearing?”
“No. I wanted to make sure no one can overhear you.”
“Ah. Good point. No problem there, Emery. What I wanted to tell you is that your Complet post knocked the governor back on her heels. She said she didn’t realize Ernest was part of the secret license tags and the misappropriated ARC money. She feels guilty about Swindle being murdered and thinks Alpha-Omega did it. She really believed the scandal ended with her dismissals of Swindle and Ramsey. Your post the other day saying she has more explaining to do was way off base.
“I think she might fire Ernest today. He begged her not to fire him last night, insisting he didn’t know about the license tags or Alpha-Omega.
“She made sure I was in the office yesterday when she called him in. She wanted me as a witness. She told Ernest she’d decide today. But she’s pissed at him.”
“Wow. Do you still think it goes beyond Complet?”
“I’m pulling into the parking garage, Emery. See ya.” She broke the connection.
Carol said, “What a jerk.” She tromped toward the kitchen to get more coffee.
As Emery had promised to devote the day to finding exactly the right Christmas tree for the house, he had only a little more time for work. He used it to call Gloria Munday, the lobbyist for Kan-Tel. Conklin had e-mailed him her mobile number.
When she answered in her deliciously contralto voice, he said, “Hi, Gloria, this is Joe Emery. I used to work for …”
“Ah, the impresario of The Vindicator, every political insider’s secret guilty pleasure, mine included. I’ve been wondering when you’d get around to asking me to dish the dirt, Joe. I’m a little hurt that it’s taken you so long.”
“But not really.”
“No, not really. Still trapped in western Kansas?”
“I like it here. Gloria, I wanted to ask you about Kan-Tel, specifically who its board members are. You still represent them in Topeka, right?”
“Right,” she said in a much tighter voice. “What type of phone are you calling on?”
“Mobile. I can call you back on a landline if you like.”
“No. Mobile’s much better. You should know I never discuss my clients’ business with the press. Why do you ask?”
A moment of truth. Then, figuring what the heck, he said, “The Kan-Tel name has come up a couple of times recently and I want to know more about it. Other than Albert V. Spritzer, yours is the only public name associated with the company.
“That’s right, just Vernal and me, the faces of Kan-Tel. Well, I can’t help you Joe because, as I said, I never discuss my clients’ business with the press or anyone else without a need to know.”
“Vernal? You mean Vernal Barnes?”
“No, silly, Vernal Spritzer. His friends call him by his middle name. I’ve helped you all I can, Joe. See you around the Capitol next session, perhaps.”
“Thanks, Gloria. You’ve helped me more than you know.”
“I have? Now that worries me. What …”
Emery, for once, was the one who broke the connection.
Before he could shut down for the day, Harmon called back. “Merry Christmas to you, too,” he said. “Kansas is also blessed for your journalistic diligence.”
Emery broke out laughing. “So we’re friends again?”
“Of a sort.”
“I have something new that might interest you.”
“Shoot.”
Emery laid out his concerns about Kan-Tel, starting with its possible tie-in with the communications entrepreneurs who’d run afoul of the hyenas. “I just finished talking with Gloria Munday, their lobbyist. I asked her who the Kan-Tel board members are. She declined to tell me, though, through a slip of the tongue, she outed one of them, I think.”
“I know who Gloria is. Who’d she out?”
“I’d rather not say until I’ve done some checking, if that’s OK.”
“Sure. There’s no criminal aspect to any of this.”
“There could be. Gloria asked me first off what kind of phone I was on. When I said mobile and asked if I should call her back on the landline, she said mobile was fine. Made a point of it. Guess who provides our landline and high-speed Internet here in Ouimet. Kan-Tel. Remember how I told you the other day that Eunice Swindle insisted I call her landline from our landline? Remember the off-the-record info she passed onto me about Complet?”
“Which you’ve now plastered all over the web.”
“She’s dead, Mike. Doesn’t matter.”
“So you think Kan-Tel is monitoring your phone and acting on the intelligence it gathers?”
“Don’t you?”
“Maybe. I’ll look into it.”
“Gotta go, Mike. Christmas tree search.”
“Merry Christmas, Joe Emery. And God bless both of us.”
Chapter 41: Complet Rouge
December 26, 9 a.m.
Emery’s call to Gloria Munday – two hours before he, Carol and Sadie visited Henry Crank’s Tree Farm just north of town and cut a nine-foot Austrian pine for display in the front parlor – exhausted his loose ends list. With her unwitting help, Emery saw how he might – might – steer The Story toward resolution. But he could wait until after the holidays to follow up on his idea. It wouldn’t hurt his business to stand down for the week.
Thus was his first Christmas with Carol the best since he was a little boy who still believed in Santa Claus. What joy he took in her surprise and pleasure as she unwrapped the gorgeous .875 carat diamond ring in a white gold setting. He’d found the ring in a grubby little independent jewelry store, run by what must have been Garden City’s only Hasidic Jewish family.
Ted’s boyish glee upon unwrapping his new digital watch with GPS, altimeter, barometer and compass – among many other functions – was wonderful to experience, as was Sadie gasp of pleasure when the wrapping paper on her present parted to reveal her new pearl necklace and earrings. Rose blushed, got teary-eyed and gave him a blubbery kiss after opening the box containing her new gold tea ring encrusted with tiny rubies, emeralds and blue sapphires arranged in interlocking circles. He was thrilled that he'd made her so happy.
J-3 called at mid-morning to thank his dad for his new leather couch. “It really classes the place up, Poppy,” he asserted. “Shirrone says we finally have someplace other than my bed to cuddle up together.”
“We seem to have a furniture theme going here, kid.” He referred to his main Christmas present, which somehow had been tucked into the study after he went to bed last night and connected with a red ribbon across the dining room and front hallway to the Christmas tree in the parlor. The ribbon, which he’d followed first thing that morning, led to a Danish modern easy chair covered with brown buttery leather. When he sat in it, feet up on the accompanying ottoman, his aging body seemed to lose half its weight and the residual headache and backache from the recent attempt on his life melted away.
“We all kicked in on it, J-3 included,” Sadie said.
It was the best gift he’d ever received.
The Story roared back, unbidden, on Sunday morning. The regional Kansas Educational Radio station reported that a neighbor had found Ernest Complet dead Christmas night at his house in Lawrence. Concerned that she hadn’t seen the normally gregarious gentleman in three days, the neighbor went next door to check on him. According to local police and the KCID, which had taken over the case, the crime scene was a bloody mess. The narrator of the radio report quoted Charles Stamos as saying Complet had been tortured before his killer put a .22 caliber bullet into his brain. The medical examiner had estimated the time of death as the evening of Dec. 24.
The Topeka Ledger, citing sources who preferred to remain unnamed, added a tantalizing bit of background: Gov. Hodge had fired Complet late Thursday afternoon. He’d been allowed to collect his personal belongings from his office, escorted to his car in the Capitol�
��s underground parking garage and told he could return “only as a tourist.”
Now, as Emery and Carol sat in the study, both computers up, trying to learn all they could about the murder, he wondered why Schroeder had not told him about Complet’s dismissal. Of course, he mused, he had neglected to follow up with her after she told him Complet’s job was on the chopping block.
Regardless, The Vindicator had been scooped – badly. All he could do now was put together the best story he could. Looking longingly at his easy chair by the window overlooking the backyard, in which he’d planned to spend a few hours reading today, he said, “I need to work this story. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine,” Carol said. “See if you can dig up anything new for your post. I’ll put together a background summary for you to splice in at the bottom of your piece.”
Natascha Schroeder answered on the first ring. “Emery, can you believe this? I mean, we speculated that Ernest might be in danger but we, or at least I, never suspected it could actually happen. They tortured him before they killed him. I’m afraid, Emery, really afraid.”
“Then call Mike Harmon and ask for his protection. In return, they’ll expect you to tell them everything you know about the scandal, including your relationship with Michael Richards.”
“Get real, Emery, I can’t do that. He’s the enemy.”
“So why didn’t you alert me that Hodge fired Ernest Complet? I thought we were working together.”
A pause. “We didn’t anticipate that would leak out before ... before ...”
“Before what?”
“Before, uh, Monday. She was – is – a little confused about how to play firing Ernest and wanted a few days to think about it. She didn’t want her name associated with bad news at Christmas, you know, the Grinch effect?”
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