Chapter Thirty-One
The winter sun had set by the time Dave stirred with a need to relieve himself from the effects of all the coffee he had consumed earlier in the day. He staggered to the bathroom barely conscious, keeping his eyes closed in an attempt to do his business and remain asleep. He had trouble finding the sink to wash his hands so he turned on the light and that brought back the reality of the day. He slumped against the sink and thought of Elena and wondered where she was and if she was still alive. His knees gave way and he slumped to the floor and sat there for several minutes trying to gather his thoughts. He could not remember whether he had filed lately and decided to check his phone to see if Sid had called. If he was needed at Now News Sid would have been calling him in. There was no message from Sid but there was a message from O’Neil with a license plate number and the name of a restaurant. In his confused state, the plate meant nothing to Dave but he remembered he wanted to talk to the cop so he checked the time and saw that it was almost seven. The restaurant was within walking distance. Dave splashed water on his face and dressed in jeans and a sweater. He grabbed a University of Tennessee baseball hat, his jacket, and quickly walked to the restaurant, where O’Neil was waiting at the bar, drink in hand.
“You just wake up?” O’Neil had the cheery look of someone who had been at the bar for awhile.
“Yeah, I kind of passed out. I need some coffee.”
They were taken to a table near the window to Connecticut Avenue and watched a parade of street fashion go by. “Not quite New York but I like the feel of this place better than the downtown area with its business suits and everybody walking around like they have sticks up their butts,” offered O’Neil, nodding to a young woman sporting a bright red Mohawk and a face tattoo.
“I’m not big on tattoos on the ladies,” Dave said. “It’s kind of a turnoff.”
“Well, that depends where it is,” O’Neil made a small chuckle.
“So, how’s your day been?”
“Interesting. I’m getting a lot of pressure to get this wrapped up.”
“I’ll second that. How’s it going?”
“You know, a lead here, a lead there. Everybody and their mother is on this and the biggest problem is sorting out who’s running the investigation. The F.B.I. is all over it, chasing down everybody they can think of. They’ve got Frank, Byrne and the other New York cops buttoned up someplace and they’re swarming all over the farm. They’re acting like they didn’t know about the monitoring station. Hell, they paid for it.”
“The F.B.I. paid for it? This was an F.B.I. operation?”
“Either that or somebody else in the Homeland Security world. It was federal money. Frank’s a contractor.”
“So, you’re not sure who’s been running all of this.”
“I know it was not just Frank. He didn’t set it up to entertain himself.”
“Who was being monitored?”
O’Neil took a pull on his scotch and looked at Dave. “Like I said, it wasn’t just Frank entertaining himself.”
“And that means…?”
“He was told who to monitor.”
“By…?”
“Look, this isn’t an easy thing to pin down.”
“I’ll try to make it easier, then. He told me, or strongly suggested, that you guys know who’s been killing the priests and that this whole thing at the farm was just a way to flush him out, to get him down there, with Elena and me as bait, so you could nab him. But there’s more to it than that, isn’t there.”
“He was right to tell you that.”
“But was he right in what he said?”
“Mostly. Like I said, it’s complicated. I need you to lay low on this and not go around reporting things of a sensitive nature. That could complicate our efforts to get Elena back.”
“When you say ‘sensitive’, what does that mean?”
“You reporters don’t know when to stop asking questions, Dave. Let us handle this and understand that some things need to remain confidential.”
“Or what?” Dave was ready to pound the table.
“Or more people get hurt.” O’Neil offered Dave his cop face, the stony stare that all cops develop as a way to tell ordinary citizens to step aside.
“I have my job and you have yours. Enjoy your dinner.”
Dave stormed out of the restaurant and walked to Now News as a cold drizzle settled in. The cold helped him calm down and it shook off the last of the lethargy from his sleep and he felt energized. He used his electronic pass to get into the building and walked into the newsroom, where Sid was haranguing an intern about something that had not been done to his satisfaction. He looked up when Dave walked in.
“Dave, come over here. This is Jennifer. Jennifer is attending the University of Maryland where she is studying journalism. Based upon a recommendation from an old colleague who teaches there, I brought Jennifer on as an intern this semester. But apparently the University of Maryland no longer teaches its journalism students that no one cares what they think, so she assumes that her opinions are suitable material for news reports.” Jennifer was near tears and looked to Dave like she had been all but whipped.
“So, edit it out,” Dave said.
“That’s not the point. What if we had her on live? We couldn’t cut her copy. It’s important that everyone who reports the news knows the difference between a fact and a rumor, for one. For two, it’s important that said reporter knows the difference between what she can prove and what she can opine.”
Dave felt sorry for the young woman, who was shaking. “Don’t worry about him, Jennifer. He’s an old lion. I need you to help me with something. Excuse us, Sid.” Dave led Jennifer away to a work station. Sid stormed into his office. He stopped at his desk and turned, walking to Dave.
“Anything new?” he asked.
“Not that I’m aware of,” Dave said.
Sid went back to his office while Dave tried to calm the young woman in front of him. “So, what happened?”
“He asked me to write an update about, you know, what’s happening. I did but he didn’t like it.”
“What did you say?”
“I laid it all out like we’ve been reporting all day and I used the word ‘horrific’ to describe what happened to Elena. He told me that was an opinion word and it has no place in a news report. He just went off on me.”
“What happened to Elena was horrific, Jennifer. I think he’s just showing the strain. We all are. I’d let it go if I were you. We all think you’re doing a terrific job.” That seemed to calm her and she smiled. “How long have you been here?”
“Since six this morning.”
“Go home. It’s okay. You need some rest.”
The young woman looked at her hands. “I’d rather stay.” Her eyes teared up. “I don’t know what I would do at home just thinking about it. I need to be here.”
Dave looked around and saw that the newsroom was packed with staffers who could not go home because they wanted to be where the story of Elena was being worked. They wanted to know the latest as it happened. They wanted to see her walk through the door again.
Butterfly Knife Page 31
