Cover-up (20 page)

Susan Carol fielded a similar call from her father. And she chose not to answer a couple calls each from Tal Vincent and Mike Shupe at USTV. But she did take the call from Jamie Whitsitt.

“Susan Carol! Dude, what a story! No wonder I haven't seen you in a while! You should lay low, though—reporters are totally staked out in the hotel lobby. And Tal's about ready to pop a blood vessel….”

“Thanks for the warning, Jamie,” Susan Carol replied. She listened for a minute more, laughed, and then clicked off.

“What did he say?” Stevie asked.

“He said, ‘Rock on, dude!'”

Stevie's next call was from Sean McManus. Stevie was afraid for a moment that he was going to be upset Stevie hadn't given the story to CBS. If he was, he didn't mention it. “We can't ignore the story, even though I'm sure the league would like us to,” he said to Stevie. “Don Meeker is going to come on the pregame show to give his side. I'd like you and Susan Carol to come on and give yours.”

“
With
Meeker?” Stevie asked.

McManus laughed. “Absolutely not. For one thing, Meeker insisted on coming on alone. For another, we don't want a riot on our hands.”

Stevie asked McManus to hang on for a moment and explained the situation to Kelleher. “That's the one you should do,” Kelleher said. “Meeker's going to spend all day shooting you guys down. That's the spot to respond. Plus, you owe it to CBS. Tell Sean there's just one condition.”

“What's that?”

“You go on
after
Meeker.”

Stevie nodded. McManus agreed. “What we'll do is read the basics of the story on the air and let Meeker respond. We'll play you the tape of what he says and you can respond to it.”

“What time do we do this?” Stevie asked.

“Meeker is coming to our compound at three o'clock,” McManus said. “So I need you both to come at about four so we'll have time to get you set up to tape with Jim.”

“Nantz?” Stevie said. “Doesn't James Brown host the pregame show?”

“He does. But this is a huge story and Jim's our number one guy. In fact, given the hard-news implications, I may bring Bob Schieffer in to do the interview. We're still talking about it.”

“Okay,” Stevie said. “I guess we'll see you at four.”

“Sounds good,” McManus said. Stevie thought he was about to hang up, but then he apparently had another thought. “Stevie?”

“Yes.”

“This is really a bad thing for the NFL if it's true,” he said. “We're partners with the NFL—I'm sure you understand that.”

“I do.”

“We're obligated to be skeptical.”

“I understand.”

“I know you do. But I want you to know something.”

“What?”

“I hope you've got it right.”

Stevie nodded, even though McManus couldn't see him nodding. “Mr. McManus?” he said, realizing he couldn't be seen.

“Yes?”

“We've got it right.”

20:
FUMBLING

BY ELEVEN O'CLOCK THAT NIGHT,
every TV channel was reporting the story and Meeker's denials, many of them putting excerpts from the story on their screens, while mentioning that the bylines on the story belonged to the two fourteen-year-old kid reporters who had become famous for helping break major stories at both the Final Four and the U.S. Open tennis tournament in the past year. There were quick flashes from the impromptu lobby press conference and a lot of tape of Stevie and Susan Carol on camera together back in what now felt like the long-ago days of their co-employment on USTV.

Both USTV and ESPN had on experts who shook their heads sadly and said they thought perhaps the two kids had overreached this time, that they could see no way the Dreams could have successfully covered up five separate players testing positive for HGH.

“I've been in a lot of locker rooms in my time,” said an ex-NFL player on USTV. “This kind of thing can't stay secret for long. I actually feel sorry for these kids. I think they're going to be in a lot of trouble when the truth comes out.”

Kelleher said, “These TV guys will just keep shooting the story down until they've got no choice but to admit that it's right.”

Tamara had been in contact with her desk early in the evening and had written a column quoting the
Herald
story, saying the story was undeniably true and it was a shame that the league couldn't stop the five players from playing.

“The bottom line,” she had written, “is, of course, the bottom line. The NFL doesn't want to see its showcase event turned into a rout because the entire Dreams' offensive line is suspended—even though they would have been suspended if not for the cover-up. If the Dreams win the game it will re-prove a sad truth about professional sports: frequently, crime
does
pay.”

When they couldn't stand to watch the TV any longer, Bobby and Stevie walked Susan Carol and Mearns upstairs. “I just want to make sure no one's lurking outside the door,” Bobby said when Tamara tried to insist they didn't need an escort. “And Stevie needs to pick up his toothbrush.”

Mark Maske arrived in the room soon after Kelleher and Stevie had returned unscathed and reported that everyone in the business was trying to either find a way to confirm the story or shoot it down.

It was after midnight when they all tried to go to sleep. Stevie tossed and turned on the cot they'd had brought in, conjuring up different scenarios for the next day. Finally, exhausted, he fell asleep. He woke up to the sound of the phone ringing. He squinted at the clock on the bedside table. It was just after eight. Maske answered the phone.

“Susan Carol,” he said, pointing the phone at Stevie. “She says she needs to talk to you right now.”

Stevie's first thought was that her father had called to order her home right away. Undoubtedly, the Andersons had been subjected to the same kinds of calls his parents had received.

Stevie crawled out of bed and took the phone. “What's up?” he asked.

“Plenty,” she said. “Eddie just called.”

“Whaa? Why?”

“He says Meeker pegged him as our source.”

“How?”

“I don't know. He just said, ‘I'm dead. Gotta go—watch your backs.' Look, Tamara and I will be down there in fifteen minutes. We'll fill you in.”

She hung up before Stevie had a chance to object.

“What was that?” Kelleher asked, sitting up and blinking sleep from his eyes.

“Eddie Brennan called Susan Carol and it sounds bad. She and Tamara are going to be down here in fifteen minutes.”

“I'll take a fast shower,” Kelleher said.

Mark Maske had gone to the door and picked up the local newspaper. “Late edition,” he said. “You guys are stars.”

Stevie looked at the front page and gasped. A huge banner headline proclaimed: “Super Scandal?” Underneath were photos of Meeker and all five accused linemen. Below that were photos of Stevie and Susan Carol with a caption that said “Kid reporters accuse players, owner.” The story was basically a rewrite of the
Herald
story, beginning with the words, “According to a story in this morning's editions of the
Washington Herald,
tonight's Super Bowl will be tainted by both a drug scandal and a cover-up.”

“Cuts right to the heart of the matter, I'd say,” Maske said, reading aloud to Stevie.

Mark left a few minutes later, saying he'd let Tamara represent the
Post
on this one. Stevie got dressed and read the paper while Kelleher showered. He was just pulling his shirt on when Susan Carol and Tamara arrived.

Each of them was carrying two coffees. “Figured you guys would need these,” Mearns said.

They all found places to sit.

“Eddie called our cells first, but they were turned off,” Susan Carol said. “He said he asked for Bobby's room, figuring he would know where we were.”

“Yes, yes,” Kelleher said. “Cut to the chase.”

She nodded. “Right. He said his coach showed up in his room at seven o'clock and told him Meeker
knew
Eddie was the source of the story and that he was going to come to the team breakfast and tell everyone Eddie had ratted out his teammates.”

“But how could Meeker know?” Stevie asked.

“Eddie said someone from USTV was feeding Meeker information about the time we spent with Eddie during the week.”

“Tal Vincent?” Stevie said.

“I think so. Someone must have sucked up to Meeker big-time to get that interview Friday. And now he's getting back at you by telling Meeker we were spending time with Eddie.”

“But that doesn't prove he told us anything,” Stevie said.

“He doesn't have to prove anything,” Tamara said. “And it doesn't really matter how he knows. All he has to do is make the accusation and Eddie's in trouble.”

The room phone rang and everyone jumped.

“I told Eddie to call us back here,” Susan Carol said. “I bet that's him.”

Kelleher answered. He nodded to Susan Carol. “Eddie, it's Bobby Kelleher. Stevie and Susan Carol and my wife, Tamara, are all here. You mind if I put you on speaker?”

Eddie sounded a little bit breathless as he started to talk. “Meeker told the team it was me, that I had ratted out the o-line. He said he wouldn't tell the coach what to do, but as the team owner, he didn't want a snitch playing quarterback in the Super Bowl.”

“Did anyone bother to point out that if the o-line hadn't been using HGH and if Meeker hadn't been covering it up, there would have been nothing to tell?” Susan Carol said, her voice indignant.

“I told you guys earlier in the week how this would go if they thought I was your source,” he said. “They're not the bad guys right now—I am.”

“So what happens next?” asked Stevie.

“Kaplow told me I'm not starting. He said it's for my own protection. He's afraid the o-line might pull a club rush and I'd get killed.”

“Club rush?” Susan Carol asked.

“It's when you purposely don't block,” Stevie said quickly. “They do it to rookies sometimes in training camp if they don't like them—right, Eddie?”

“You got it,” Brennan said. “Only this isn't training camp, where guys will hold back a little to keep someone from getting hurt. This is the Super Bowl.”

“Do you think Kaplow's right?” Stevie asked.

“Probably, yes. But here's the thing: they can't win this game without me. That may sound cocky, but it's true. Meeker signed Jeff George as our backup quarterback even though he's about a hundred and has been through a half dozen teams. Meeker's paying him a ton because he thinks he has big-game experience while I'm just a kid. But really, George is
way
over the hill.”

“Don't the guys know that?” Susan Carol said.

“I think they do. But Meeker has them convinced I'm the devil.”

“What did
you
say to them?”

“I said Meeker was crazy—which he is. But I didn't want to say too much—I didn't want to lie to them. But I'll tell you who will lie: Meeker. He's going on USTV and CBS today to say that he knew nothing about any positive tests, and if there are reports with positive results, they must be either fakes or bad tests. He's going to ask for a brand-new round of tests tomorrow.”

“But that wouldn't prove the guys weren't positive two weeks ago,” Susan Carol said.

“I know,” Brennan said. “He's a weasel. You two need to be careful. This guy is going to play serious hardball. He'll do anything to try to make you look bad, to make me look bad, to make the testers look bad. Anything to get out of this.”

“He won't get out of it,” Stevie said.

“I hope you're right,” Brennan said. “But right now, I'm not convinced that you are. When it comes to being evil, this guy is on another level.” He sighed. “I gotta go,” he said. “I have a game to not play.”

Stevie felt a wave of guilt, thinking if he and Susan Carol hadn't persuaded him to help them, none of this would be happening. “I'm really sorry, Eddie,” he said.

“Don't be,” Brennan said. “You did the right thing. So did I. We all did. Don't feel bad about doing the right thing.” He paused. “Someone has to do it—right?”

They hung up and just looked at each other. They'd run their story—told the truth—and the wrong player wasn't playing.

“Oldest story in sports,” Bobby said. “It's the Code. I see it in college basketball all the time. It's worse to be accused of turning someone in for recruiting violations than to commit them.”

“He's right about Jeff George too,” Tamara said. “They can't win with him playing. I can't believe Meeker would go through all this to keep the linemen on the field, then throw it all away to spite Eddie.”

“He doesn't think he's throwing it away,” Susan Carol said. “He's the one who signed George. This is his chance to prove that Kaplow's been playing the wrong quarterback all year.”

“Even though that quarterback got the team to the Super Bowl,” Stevie added.

“I feel helpless about all this,” Susan Carol said.

“We've done all we can do for the moment,” Bobby said. “This is like any game we cover—we have nothing to do with the outcome when all is said and done.”

“Except we do,” Stevie said. “We're responsible for getting one team's quarterback benched.”

“You aren't responsible for that,” Tamara said. “He's a grown man. He made a decision. And he just told you guys he didn't regret it—you shouldn't either.”

Stevie still felt queasy about the whole thing. They couldn't leave the room without getting bombarded by media again, so they read the papers and ordered room service and stewed.