The Journalist (15 page)

“We’ve been through that picture thing
umpteen times.” Ted cracked his knuckles.

“Stick with touch chess, Teddy boy.” Mary
stood and stepped to the desk. “Boca, this is hot stuff—rogue cops,
murder, rape, drugs, video.”

Ted yawned. “Gang bang, blow job, head shot,
brains misting

”

“Oh, bite me, Stallings.”

Ted said, “We’re not a hot-stuff newspaper,
babe, we’re
The Boca
, fact and opinion, labeled as
such.”

“Don’t call me babe.”

Zack wiped his face with his palm. “I think
our angle is how this Channel 10 video became news, how it was
handled by Channel 10

potential impact on
the public

”

“Nobody cares about that Mass Media 102
sing-a-long yin yang

boring, boring,
boring.” Mary said.

“Oh,” Zack said, “you took the course?”

Frustrated, she shook her head and held two
fingers in the air. “Two cops raped and killed a woman

Jeesss.”

“What about the source?” Zack said.

Mary held up her right palm, traffic
police-style. “Let me guess—Journalism 101, right?”

Ted said, “Confidential source.”

Zack lit a MORE. “That’s what bothers
me.”

Mary: “Oh, Boca, please don’t get off on one
of those philosophical meanderings. This is on Channel 10 news, all
the cable news guys, national networkse

the
whole freaking world is showing it.”

“I think he’s talking about the original
source, Ms. O’Brien.” Ted did his tongue thing between his lips and
front teeth.

Mary cast him a chilly stare. “I know what he
means, Mr. Stallings.” She turned to Zack. “I can’t believe we’re
having this discussion. I just can’t believe it.”

“What are you having the greatest difficulty
with, my dear?” Zack asked.

“Nothing, never mind, forget it, I quit.”
Mary dropped to the sofa.

Zack looked to Ted. “Anyway, Ted, since Mary
is no longer with us, let me ask you once more, how many times have
we been over this picture thing?”

Ted pressed the bridge of his nose. “World
War two, there was much debate about allowing the press to print
pictures of dead soldiers, you know, floating, bloated, dead in the
water. One I liked was of a guy’s leg blown off at the hip, could
see the socket. Best was this redheaded guy with his guts draped
around his ears, eyes shot out

”

“Okay, okay

” Mary
stood and hushed the air with her hands, “I got it. We’ll just
write a genteel little featurette

something
like—and in other areas of interest, we thought we’d do this Labor
Day special

’there seemed to be some
rowdiness the other night out on the beaches of Key Largo. Seems a
couple of Miami’s finest got rambunctious, impaired a young lady’s
breathing, but
The Boca
thinks it was all just in fun.’”

“I thought you quit,” Ted said.

“Bite me.”

“Mary, dear

” Zack
gave her his best professorial look. “

there is an unconfirmed report from the boys and girls
in television land that somebody—we don’t know who—captured video
of two officers—we don’t know who—brutalizing a female motorist—we
don’t know who—sometime last night; and it happened out on Key
Largo. What were two Miami cops doing way out there in Monroe
Country, anyway. Why can’t the cops be identified?”

“They’re rogue cops, drug payoff went south,
somebody happened to get video of them.” Mary fluffed her hair.
“Lady was stiffing the cops.”

“I think it was the other way around,” Ted
said.

“Ha, ha, ha,” Mary sneered.

Zack studied his fingernails. “The video is a
reality. The scenes on the video are just that, video scenes.”

“But we got a dead body, dead flesh in the
morgue. You did see the news this morning, didn’t you, Boca?” Mary
said.

“Did you hear what he just said?” Ted
yawned.

Bristling, Mary shot back, “Did you get what
I just said, big boy?” She began pacing. “Zackary, that video is on
CNN, for Christ’s sake. Fox had it on a half-hour after Channel
10

It’s all over the world. The Associated
Press broke the story two hours ago. The
Herald
will have it
frame by frame, for Christ sake.”

Zack sipped some coffee. “Why is it nobody
ever says ‘for Buddha’s sake?’ Doesn’t have the same ring does it?
For Buddha’s sake

” He shook his head. “I
played plain 3-D chess one time with Joe Case, but never 3-D touch
chess.”

“You think

” Mary put
her hands on Zackary’s desk. “

you think
burying the pictures is going to make it go away?”

Zack tilted his head. “I didn’t say that. I’m
just

”

“Boca, it’s out there. The real world is out
there, whether you like it or not. It’s out there.” Mary turned her
back to him and, giving a little wiggle, leaned her buttock on the
edge of his desk.

“Mary, dear, be nice,” Zack said.

Sniffing the air, Ted pulled at his right
earlobe and studied Zack’s face, “What are you thinking?”

“Just say something
hedores en el
Benny’s woodpile.”

“What’s it smell like, barbecued monkey?”
Mary shifted her buttock higher on the edge of his desk.

“Mary, dear, be nice,” Zack repeated.

She stood, turned to him, flipped her hair
and plugged her hands on her hips. “We’re missing our deadline,
folks.”

“I didn’t know that.” Zack rubbed the top of
his head. “Did you know that, Mr. Stallings?”

Pressing the bridge of his nose: “Why, I
almost forgot about that,” Ted said.

“Up yours, Stallings.” Mary had again turned
and slugged her bottom hard against the edge of Zack’s desk.

“Careful you don’t hurt yourself,” Zack
said.

“I’m just trying to do my job.”

“I know, long day, we all are a little bit
frayed.” Zack stood. “Okay, another question, why did Benny jump on
this story so fast?”

“You’re obsessed with Benny.” Mary paced in
front of Zack’s desk. “It’s distorting your objectivity.”

Zack paused, thinking that she might be right
but she didn’t need to say it like that, and besides, I’m always
objective, “I am not obsessed with Benny.”

Ted looked at his watch, stood and raised his
arms in surrender. “We have to set the front page, folks.”

Mary jammed her right hand through her hair.
“How about, headline—’Video Nabs Chief’s Bad Boys?’”

“C-minus,” Zack said.

“I quit.” Mary plopped on the sofa.

“Which time?” Ted said.

Zack said, “After what looked like a
drug-related homicide a local Miami television station broke an
interesting story that appears to implicate the Miami Police
Department. This, that, etc. However, the police deny the validity
of the video, right Ted?”

“What they said, drug-related

set-up

foul play

conspiracy.”

“Too many loose ends and etcetera, etceteras.
We’ll let Jimbo do a sidebar and go with what he gets from Manny.
The other stuff, only report what we know for certain.”

Mary rolled her eyes. “Which is nothing.”

“You might have something there,” Ted
said.

“Exciting stuff, nothing.” Mary shook her
head.

“Why don’t we just write a one-act
screenplay, ‘Butchery on the Beach,’” Zack said.

“Might give our understaffed advertising
department something to talk to clients about.” Mary stood and
walked to the door.

Zack smacked his desk with his fist. Papers
flew. “F-minus, wrong, Ms. O’Brien, and you know it

”

Mary paused, “No need to get mad,” and
flipped her hair.

“I’m not mad.”

“Oh, anyway, you seemed mad.”

Zack cooled. The swishing of the ceiling fan
played background accompaniment to the anemic hum of the air
conditioner.

After a minute, Ted reached up and let the
ceiling fan blades drag across the tips of his fingers. “I’ll call
the printer, tell them we’ll be a tad bit late tonight.”

Mary smirked. “A tad bit late and a lot
short.”

“Will you please knock it off, Ms. O’Brien.”
Zack looked out the window.

Mary sat on the sofa with a thud. “I
quit.”

“I lost track.” Ted looked down at her.

She looked up. “Keep it up, Stallings, and
I’ll have to punch you out, big time.”

Zack walked back to his desk. “It’s all
perception, folks. How does anybody know for sure that Pago Pago is
really there? Ninety percent have never been there. They read about
it, have seen it on TV. Perception. Reality. The elements. How they
are put together is all in the head of
Homo sapiens
.” He
paused. “That’s not original folks, it’s Dr. Barbara Landes’, her
dissertation. But, much as I hate to say it, she is correct.”

“You read her dissertation?” Mary asked
wide-eyed.

Zack began pacing behind his desk. “‘It is
the force of conviction that quickens brain electricity that stirs
the soul, even as the smell of truth quickens hope. We live in an
age of instant communication when the thoughts of a few become
words and the words of a few become meaning and the meaning of a
few becomes truth, handed down as myths; and the myths become deeds
put down between people and the deeds end one reality and begin
another toward the coming of the history of man.’” He sat behind
his desk. “That’s mine.
Storia di uomo
, history of man.”

“Does that include women?” Mary said.

Ted laughed.

“Okay, okay, okay.” Mary raised her hands in
surrender. “Okay, whatever you men say. I surrender.”

“Me, too.” Zack turned and looked out the
window again. “I think I’m going to take a ride.”

“I’ll go with you.” Mary stood.

Zack looked at his watch. “Eight forty-five,
Jimbo went over to the police department, what, five hours
ago?”

“He’s slow as molasses in January.” Mary
flipped her hair again.

“You should know,” Ted said.

“Ha, ha, ha,” Mary sneered.

“Maybe we should page him?” Zack said.

Mary clucked her tongue, “Fat chance. He
never wears his pager—too confining, he says. Anyway, I called over
there for James. Wasn’t there.”

“Who’d you talk to?” Zack said.

“Desk sergeant.”

“What’d he say?”

She rolled her eyes. “The he was a she.”

“Oh, what did she say?”

“Jim was there, but had left.”

“You ask about the video?”

“Denied it, no one from their office was ever
near Key Largo Thursday night. Don’t recognize the officers on the
video, nothing. What do you expect?”

Zack glanced at Ted. “Same line you got.”

“Yep-purr.”

“What else did she say?”

Mary said, “Looks like one of their cars, but
that’s Monroe County Sheriff’s area.”

“Looks like one of their cars?” Zack
said.

“I know, Miami police lettering all over it,
but that’s what she said—they were not there, period. Believe that,
and I got a fairy tale for Ted.”

Zack said, “I know, we have video.”

Ted yawned.

Zack tapped the end of a fresh Camel on his
desk then lit it.

“You have one lit,” Mary said.

“That’s a MORE.”

“Oh.”

Zack looked at his watch again. “Eight-fifty,
all you have to do is write up everything we’ve been talking about.
Plenty of time.” He looked at Ted. “Like you said, call the
printers.”

“Yep-purr.” Ted paused in the doorway. “You
better start keying on your little keyboard, Mary, dear. I’ll set
the page format.”

“Oh, go set your face,” Mary said.

Ted yawned.

“I’ll call you later,” Zack said.

Ted started to leave then turned back.
“O’Brien, you want a pizza?”

“No anchovies.” Mary searched Zack’s
face.

“Yep-purr.” Ted left.

Mary stepped to the side of Zack’s desk.
“Boca, I didn’t mean that about the advertising

”

“Forget it.” He stood. “We need the distance,
anyway.”

Disheartened: “What is that supposed to
mean?”

He ignored her question.

“Well, Ms. O’Brien, I think I’ll take a drive
through our lovely city, see what is happening first hand.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Mary said.

“What’s the matter, watching too much
TV?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Say a prayer for me.”

“I say a prayer for you every night.”

“Are you getting through?”

“Not yet, but I keep at it.”

“Don’t waste a lifetime.”

“You ever say one for me?” Mary said.

“I’m working on it.”

“Want me to write one for you?” She lowered
her eyes.

Zack drained his coffee stein and parked it
on his desk, “Don’t you have some typing to do?”

Full of him, her eyes saying to his, you know
what my prayer is?

Zack looked away.

“Zack, when do I get that boat ride you’ve
been forever promising me?”

“Talk to me later.”

She smacked the desk. “Don’t say
that

You always say that

”

Zack jammed a half-pack of Camels into his
front pocket. “I’ll call you from the car if I see anything.”

“D-minus.”

“Thanks.” He walked to the door and stopped.
“Keep in touch. You might want to call around, see what some other
officials are saying, find out what happened to Jimbo. Leave him an
email, phone message, something original.”

Mary tilted her head and began sending silent
messages.
Oh, Boca, if it was just we two, we could go away on
your boat, to an island

then somehow
the thoughts escaped into the air. “And I’d dance for you, peel
grapes for you

”