Something sagged inside me. “How?”
“He called up and said he’d grabbed Duquesne, Jr., and would cut his heart out or something if the doc didn’t spill the beans. It was all done by phone and apparently the kid never was grabbed-he was at school all along. Duquesne was pretty bent out of shape and threatened to sue. In any case, we better assume Stark isn’t far behind us, as usual.”
I shook my head. “How the hell does he do that?”
Brandt reached into his trash can and tossed me that morning’s paper. “We live in an information society. Katz found Duquesne and interviewed him. All Stark had to do was read the paper.”
“What do you mean, ‘Katz found Duquesne’?”
“Dunno.”
I stared at the front page article without reading it. Katz wasn’t the only one who amazed me; Duquesne’s stupidity was pretty awesome too-I guessed the urge to talk to a real live member of the press was more than he could resist, even considering the risks. That was one lawsuit that wouldn’t keep me up at night.
I put the newspaper back in the trash. “You know, if we hope to lay a net around Cioffi without attracting attention, we’re going to have to put a stop to this.”
“Any suggestions?”
“We could try what they did on D-Day: involve the reporters in exchange for exclusives after the fact.”
“Those were different times, Joe. Pre-Woodward and Bernstein.”
“I think Katz is too big an asshole to trust.” Kunkle’s voice startled me. I’d forgotten he was still in the room.
“I won’t argue with that part, but he does a hell of a job.”
Kunkle’s eyes widened. “A hell of a job? That son of a bitch tries to screw us every time we bend over.”
“That’s because we’re on the receiving end. You got to admit, if he weren’t so good, we wouldn’t hate him so much.”
Brandt lit his pipe and blew out some smoke. “I think the imagery is getting disgusting.”
I held up a hand. “All right, but wait. This is a legitimate point; he usually does get his facts straight, right? What about the stakeout story at the Misery Hilton. That was fair.”
Brandt shrugged. “Granted.”
“So maybe it’s our fault, and that’s what pisses us off. It’s not like we’re dealing with some jackass from the National Enquirer who just invents what he can’t get.”
“Joe, no one’s arguing the man’s abilities. It’s his personality-and the times. He’s a very ambitious guy, and that gets rewarded. You don’t get recognition in his world for being friendly with the authorities.”
“And I still say he’s an asshole,” Kunkle muttered.
I stood up. “Well, let’s find out. You and I’ll go talk with him.”
Kunkle made a sour face. “Why me?”
“Because you have nothing better to do.”
“Oh, give me a break-”
“And you might learn something about human nature.” I turned to Brandt. “Call the paper and tell them we’re coming, will you? See if you can line up Katz and Bellstrom both.”
“Good luck.”
I led the way back to the parking lot. Kunkle was still clutching his file. “I don’t need a goddamned nanny, you know. If I want to find out about human nature, I’ll do it on my own.”
I stopped halfway out the double doors, the cold air reaching at my throat through the gap. I buttoned my coat. “Fine. Let me put it another way. You are the biggest head case I have on this investigation, so I want you to know every detail of my conversation with Katz and his boss so you won’t fly off the handle later if and when you see Katz hanging around. Is that more acceptable?”
He nodded, which I took as a good sign. Nothing like a series of murders to snap one out of a depression.
We found Bellstrom and Katz in the editor’s office, ready and waiting. Bellstrom was his usual laid-back, affable self. Katz was back to being Katz. “Getting Brandt to work as your secretary? That’s hardball for a mere acting captain.”
“Asshole,” Kunkle muttered one more time.
“Hello to you, too, Stanley,” I added.
Bellstrom had made a steeple of his fingers and was tapping it gently against his lower lip. “Since it’s getting on toward dinner time, maybe we ought to get started.” He then smiled apologetically. “My wife just called. Her sister’s in town, and if I’m not home for dinner, she suggested I spend the night at a motel.”
“The life of a press lord?”
He shrugged.
“All right. We’ve had some of this conversation before and didn’t get anywhere, so I’m offering a new approach.”
“To what?” Katz asked.
“To mutual back scratching. Unless I guess wrong, you’ve got every reporter, every stringer, and probably every janitor in your building out covering this Colonel Stark thing. That includes working your police moles overtime and wearing out shoes. How did you find Duquesne, by the way?”
Katz looked at Bellstrom, whose expression didn’t change. Katz then smiled. “That was hard work. I heard one stray comment about prescriptions-nothing specific-and based on that, I had everyone who could handle a phone call every doctor in town and ask why the cops had dropped by recently. Duquesne bit. He said something like, ‘That’s confidential,’ and I knew I had my man. I showed up and his ego did the rest.”
I turned to Bellstrom. “Is this the biggest story this t story paper has ever covered?”
“It’s a big story,” he agreed with a poker face. “Pulitzer big, maybe?”
“Conceivably. It’s nice to dream.”
“Well, I wish you well. Unfortunately, some of that eagerness could have gotten Duquesne’s kid killed if Stark had played it another way.”
“Break my heart,” Katz grumbled. Kunkle shoved his hands into his pockets. Bellstrom looked uncomfortable.
“It was just an illustration. We’re getting very close to opening the front door to this whole mess, but like I said at our last get-together, if Stark gets there before us, we’ll probably never find out what’s inside. He’ll throw in a hand grenade. That puts us in a quandary, since you guys are reporting every move we make. So I have what Tony Brandt seems to think is a fairly quaint proposition.”
“Which is?”
“I will involve you in every phase of our operation from now on for the next three days in exchange for exclusive coverage, if you give us some room to arrange our plans discreetly-kind of like they did at D-Day.”
Katz shook his head. “Three days-you that close?” I ignored him. Kunkle didn’t, but he kept quiet. Bellstrom closed his eyes for a moment. “Times have changed a bit since then.”
“Seems like it worked pretty well at the stakeout. You’d be in on everything-every meeting, every planning session, everything. It would be your choice to go where you wanted.”
Bellstrom shook his head. “We have arrangements of our own with other news agencies-wire services and the TV people, not to mention other papers of our own chain. It’s kind of like a pool.”
“Kind of, but not officially, right? You’re not contractually required to reveal each detail of a story as you uncover it, are you?”
“No, of course not.”
“If you go along with this, the whole thing’s yours. If you don’t, we’ll just throw it to the dogs and let them sort it out. I might add, by the way, that we intend to really clamp down for the next few days. The normal flow of communication in the department will stop. All information will be on a need-to-know basis. We’re going to bend over backwards to keep everything we can from the press.”
“Then why this conversation?” Bellstrom asked.
I noticed Katz was looking thoughtful rather than combative. That, I hoped, was a plus for our side. “Because we’ve got higher priorities than keeping you in the dark. Besides, this way, if we do screw up and let something out of the bag, it won’t necessarily hit the front page next day. I’d like to be able to concentrate on wrapping this up with you, not in spite of you. For that matter, if you want to get sentimental, this might be the only chance for Bill Davis to be declared an innocent man. Surely it’s worth three days of insider work to be able to crow about that later.”