ROCK N RIOT AT CONCERT
TEN HURT AT TURG’S FARM
In smaller type near the bottom of the page was:
Publisher Sought for Incident with Singer
Inside was a relatively sober if sketchy account of what had happened. Inasmuch as four staff members had seen him at the concert, the article seemed to me to be excessively careful about the identification of Shiu, but otherwise it had the essential facts straight. Liz had provided a shot of Sister Song wrapped in a blanket, and one good picture of the crowd milling around behind the stage. Naturally, I wondered what had happened to the nude shots of the singer.
“Looks OK to me,” I said. “Christ, I was worried with all of the wild stuff that was going around out at Turg’s.”
Grace looked pained. “Well, I’m afraid we went out at first with some of it. It’s just that we had to work with what Bright phoned in and the wild first radio reports from the country cops. I don’t blame Swift too much.”
“For what, goddamm it?”
Darlington picked up a copy of the paper off the desk and turned the front page to me. One three-line headline filled it:
DWARF RAPES
NUN;
FLEES IN UFO!
“Oh, my God!” I cried. “Where in hell did you get that?” “Well, the headline was Swift’s, and he was so excited about it, I got to admit it seemed plausible after a while. Listen, we had to use what we had. Bright said there had been a sex crime there, and we picked up the rest on the scanner from the first police transmissions.”
“The cops? You’re blaming them for this abortion?” “Cool down, damn it,” Grace said. He turned to his computer terminal and keyed in several commands. “OK, come around here and look at the notes Doralee got oil the police radio.”
I got up and looked at Grace’s screen.
“notes-green,” it said in the lower case typing used to take notes hastily.
“9:36p. deputy borishoff (?) reports a ‘disruption’ at turg’s farm, county road 16… says a woman identified tentatively as a sister????? (unintelligible) interrupted rock concert with appearance on stage claiming rape by unnamed person.
“9:39. deputy says officers attempting to apprehend suspect—‘midget or dwarf’—in stage area… reports discharge of gun fire.
“9:41. deputy James reports ‘subject escaped stage’ being pursued on concert grounds, says some disorder breaking out.
“(transmission drowned out by roaring sound) deputy reports some sort of aircraft buzzed stage area… says appeared to be cigar-shaped with pulsating lights… unable to identity.
“dispatcher asks James to repeat aircraft type. James yells, ‘unidentified, dammit! it’s something that flies, but i don’t know what!’ long, like a pencil or a rocket flying sideways.”
“9:46. deputy reports crowd out of control of officers on scene, requests assistance… (muffled voices)… says some injuries in audience area, asks dispatch of medical aid.”
I looked up from the screen. “This is what you went with? Jesus, Bill, you knew you had reporters out there.”
“Sure, and what little we got from Bright didn’t conflict all that much. I called the phone company supervisor right after he went off and asked for the pay phone number at the farm, and he told me all six lines had just gone out of service.
“Besides, there was no stopping Swift once he looked at what we were getting. He didn’t pay much attention to the story except to OK the layout, and I think was getting ready to leave when Doralee started yelling about the call from Bright. Then he got interested, and when we started picking up the transmissions on the radio he stood back of Doralee watching her notes. I guess it was that business about the unidentified aircraft that set him off… he suddenly gave the damndest shriek and grabbed a blank dummy and scribbled out that head,” Grace said, pointing to the paper.
“Yeah,” Darlington said. “The man looked… well, like carried away. Like one of those people that get crazy at holy roller church services, He looked at me and yelled, This is it! My God, this is it! I knew it would come… I knew it!’”
“I argued with him that what we had was thin, but he wouldn’t listen. Told me we were going to go with the story if he had to fire all of us and put out the paper himself. He was just wild-eyed,” Grace said.
“But it’s stupid,” I said. “You guys knew the singer was called ‘Sister Song’ and that Shiu was sniffing after her. Didn’t anyone even guess what happened?”
“Sure, Bob, but I’m telling you that Swift went completely off the deep end. I said to him, ‘Sister doesn’t mean it was a nun,’ and he yelled, ‘Sister IS a nun, you twit! Are you telling me the plain meaning of the English language?’ I thought the guy was going to go for me, for God’s sake. I just gave up.
“So we went with it his way, and I guess a couple thousand papers ran before Liz came in and started telling us what really happened. I called the pressroom to stop, and I swear Swift was about to can me right then when Doralee said that Diana was on the phone.
“That did it. Swift talked to her a couple of minutes, and I could see him sag like a sandbag that just had its bottom cut out. Then he told Doralee to go back on and, I swear, there were tears in his eyes when he told me to call circulation to hold up the papers that had run.”
“What then?” I asked.
Darlington turned his head toward Swift’s office. “He told Bill to pull the story and go with what Diana and Liz had. Then he went back there—looking like somebody who just saw their kid run over by a truck. I guess he’s still there.”
I stood up. “I better talk to him. If the cops got Shins identification from the singer, they’re going to be coming down here soon to look for him. Swift’s going to have to talk to them.”
“Good luck,” Grace said, downing the remaining booze in his cup. “We haven’t seen or heard anything for most of an hour.”
I navigated the desks back to Swift’s office and looked through his window overlooking the city room. A gooseneck lamp was shining on a copy of the paper with the original headline on the desk. Behind it, Swift slumped in his chair, staring at the paper.
I opened the door quietly and went around to the front of the desk. He looked up at me blankly.
“Mr. Swift, excuse me, but I think you better start thinking about what we should tell the police if they come here looking for Mr. Shiu.”
Swift smiled brightly. “Did you see it? The perfect headline!”
“But it was wrong, Mr. Swift,” I said. “It was a phony.”
Swift looked down. “Can’t be… had to be true. Once in my life why couldn’t it be true?” He smiled again. “Doesn’t matter really, does it, old man? I’ve got it right here. The ultimate headline and Granville Swift wrote it.”
“Mr. Swift, how about Shiu?”
The big man giggled like a little girl. “Shiu, Shiu, Shiu. Ran away, ran away. Shiu ran away, Shiu went shoo. Shoo, shoo, shoo.”
“Where, Swift? Where would Shiu go?”
Swift clapped his hands, consumed by amusement. “Went to the animal fair… birds and beasts were there… the monkey got drunk…” He began muttering and smoothing the paper on the desk in front of him. “Wha become of the monk?” he said, gazing at me with wet eyes.
Grace came over to the open door, glancing apprehensively at Swift.
“Bob,” he said in a quiet voice. “The cops just called. They’re downstairs.”