It was now Kelleher’s turn to be silent for a moment. “Good point,” he said finally. “The only thing I can think of is that he somehow saw telling Susan Carol the story as an excuse to see her alone.”
“You mean put the moves on her by telling her that his dad killed his mom?”
“I’m not sure I would phrase it quite that way, but yes. Look, we don’t even know for sure what David and Morra know about that night. Maybe David wants sympathy from Susan Carol, or maybe there’s still something we don’t know. In fact, I think there’s a very good chance we haven’t got the whole story yet. Stuff like this is rarely black and white, good guys and bad guys. It’s a lot grayer than that. So it’s hard to know what David was doing until we know what he thinks happened that night. And really, just wanting to spend time with Susan Carol isn’t the craziest thing I’ve heard so far.”
Stevie laughed. “I know it sounds awful,” he said, “but if that’s what it is, you have to give the guy props for coming up with a unique way to try to impress a girl.”
They pulled into the driveway. Tamara’s car was already in the garage. She always wrote, Stevie had noticed, a little bit faster than Kelleher. He had no idea what Susan Carol had written about, since they hadn’t really spoken for twenty-four hours. Tamara and Susan Carol were sitting at the kitchen table when they walked in.
“You are really slowing down in your old age,” Tamara said as Kelleher put down his computer bag and Stevie dropped his backpack off his shoulders.
“I try to write in English,” Kelleher answered his wife, walking over to give her a kiss.
Tamara looked at Stevie. “So, young sleuth, you want to tell us about your day?”
Stevie looked at Kelleher. Technically, Tamara and Susan Carol were their competition, since they worked for the Post, but that didn’t really matter. This, however, felt different.
“I think we need to talk first,” Kelleher said. He had poured himself a Coke and sat down across from Susan Carol. Stevie was standing at the counter, his mouth feeling dry, but not, he suspected, because he was thirsty.
“What do we need to talk about?” Susan Carol asked, no doubt sensing that she was not going to like it.
“Well, to be honest, Susan Carol, we need to know if we can trust you,” Kelleher said. “I respect that you want to keep the promise you made to David-whether it was made to him as a source or a friend-even though it’s a big pain for us to deal with. What worries me is the idea that you’re telling David what we know.”
“WHAT?!”
“Morra wants to meet with Stevie to discuss what David told you.”
“WHAT?!”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Stevie put in. “Maybe she wants to tell me how her dad killed her mom and the cops covered it up for him.”
“Quiet, Stevie,” Kelleher said sharply. He wasn’t sure if he was shutting him up because he was revealing too much or because he didn’t like the tone of voice he was speaking to Susan Carol in. Probably both, he figured.
“The story’s not that simple, Stevie,” Susan Carol said. “There’s more to it than that.”
Tamara kept looking from Bobby to Stevie to Susan Carol, as if trying to figure out what in the world they were talking about. Now, though, she put her arm around Susan Carol’s shoulders and said softly, “Then you should tell us the rest. Off the record doesn’t mean you can’t talk to other people about what you know as long as you know they won’t print it based on what you tell them. If Stevie and Bobby are going in the wrong direction, you need to give them some guidance.”
“I can’t,” Susan Carol said. “It wasn’t just off the record, it was a secret.”
Stevie threw his arms up in disgust. “What is this, first grade? Doesn’t it bother you that this guy basically got away with murder?”
“He did not!” Susan Carol said angrily. “He’s lived with the guilt for twelve years, and he’ll live with it the rest of his life. You just want to hate him because you think I like David.”
“Do you?” Stevie asked.
She didn’t answer, but the red in her cheeks was enough answer for Stevie.
“Okay, hang on,” Kelleher said. “Let’s try to be reasonable here. Susan Carol, if we tell you what Stevie found out today, do you promise to keep it a secret from David?”
“That seems fair,” Tamara said.
Susan Carol nodded. “Okay,” she said.
“And if you think we’ve got something wrong, you need to give us some clue so we don’t go in a direction that’s unfair to the Doyles,” Kelleher said. “We aren’t even sure there’s a story here. We need all the facts.”
She nodded again.
Kelleher looked at Stevie. “Go ahead,” he said.
Stevie went through the entire day.
When he was finished, Tamara shook her head and said, “Wow.” The three of them waited Susan Carol out, staying quiet.
“All I can tell you,” she finally said, “is that you have most of the facts but not the story-you’re spinning it in a way that isn’t the truth.”
“Or maybe someone spun the story for you in a way that was designed to get your sympathy-is that possible?” Kelleher said gently.
“I really don’t know for sure, do I?” Susan Carol said. “And neither do you guys. The only person who knows for sure is Norbert, so you’ll have to get it from him. But I don’t think you will. It’s his story and he’s got a right to decide whether he wants to go public with it or not.”
“That’s true,” Kelleher said. “Unless the story he and David Felkoff are pitching to Hollywood and New York publishers is the fantasy he pitched to you and Stevie in Boston. He definitely has a right to his privacy, but he doesn’t have a right to lie to the public and try to make a fortune from that lie.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Susan Carol said, her eyes filling with tears. She got up and ran from the room. Stevie couldn’t help but notice that this was getting to be a nightly occurrence.
Tamara stood up. “I’ll talk to her,” she said.
“Good idea,” Kelleher said. “I’ve never seen her like this.”
“Try to remember she’s fourteen, Bobby,” Tamara said.
“So’s Stevie,” Kelleher said. “He may not like it that she likes David, but he’s not bursting into tears and running from the room every ten minutes.”
For the first time since he had met them, Stevie sensed tension between Tamara and Bobby.
“Cool it, Bobby,” Tamara said. “She’s our friend, not a ballplayer or a coach or an agent.”
She turned on her heel and followed Susan Carol out of the room.
“Well,” Kelleher said. “That went well, didn’t it?”
No, it certainly hadn’t gone well. But Stevie actually felt a little better. Kelleher had answered the question that he had been trying to answer on the train ride back: what was the story they were chasing? Now he knew: the story was about an athlete living a lie-no, more than that, selling a lie.
17: MEETING WITH MORRA
THE BEST NEWS OF THE LONG DAY for Stevie was that he was so tired when he went upstairs to bed he had no trouble sleeping. He tossed and turned briefly, wondering if he and Susan Carol would ever be friends again, but fell sound asleep soon after.
He hadn’t set an alarm and no one came to wake him, but he was still up by seven-thirty He went downstairs and, to his surprise, found Susan Carol sitting by herself drinking coffee and reading the newspaper.
“Mind if I have some of your coffee?” he asked.
“Of course not,” she said.
He poured himself some coffee and sat down across from her. She had the Herald’s Sports section in front of her, so he picked up the Post’s.
“What’d Tamara write about?” he asked, hoping to make conversation.
“Stan Kasten,” she answered. “She wrote about what it means to him to get this team into the World Series after starting from scratch the way he did back in Atlanta.”