2
Beth, looking great in an exercise bra and running shorts, put down the special Monday edition of The Light after reading Sandy's story, her expression puzzled.
"I thought you told me there was a murder cult involved."
"Legal wouldn't let me use it. They said hearsay from a single source was not enough. Too far out on a limb. We'd be just asking to be sued. Damn!"
"It's still a good story."
"Yeah, but no staying power. Without the cult hook it's just another murder. I need some way to pump this into something that matters."
Beth looked at him. "Doesn't the death of a medical researcher who was trying to make the world a better place matter enough?"
"Well, it matters, yeah, but—"
"I'm sure it matters to his wife and son."
"Ex-wife."
Beth shrugged. "Still… something like that shouldn't happen to anyone. But when it's someone who was trying to find a cure for cancer, it seems doubly tragic."
She was right, as usual. Maybe that was the angle he'd have to play for now—until he could substantiate cult activity.
But even without that angle, this issue was special because it also ran his advocacy piece continuing the amnesty call for the Savior. Both in the first three pages. Which had led Pokorny to quip that soon Palmer would be writing the entire paper.
Sandy finished his coffee while Beth went back to work on the treatment for her film. He leaned over and kissed her.
"Got to go. Meeting somebody at nine, then the DA later on. I'll catch you later."
A short, shoulder-to-shoulder ride on the crowded Nine, followed by a quick walk, and he was back in Riverside Park. He and the Savior had arranged to meet at nine this morning to follow up, but the Savior had set the spot ten blocks uptown from their previous encounters.
He'd also told him to make sure he wasn't followed. That was an unsettling thought, but Sandy kept an eye out and couldn't find a hint that anyone was tailing him.
With rain threatening, the park was almost deserted. Sandy had his pick of empty benches. He chose one under a tree—in case it started to rain—and sat down. The Savior appeared a few minutes later, and sat on the far end of the bench.
"You look better," Sandy said. He still lacked the vitality of the man he'd first encountered here, but at least he didn't look like death warmed over. "That poison must be working its way out of your system."
"What?" the Savior said. He twisted his body back and forth, doing a full scan of the park. "Oh, yeah. I'm up to maybe seventy-five percent." He slumped back and rubbed his temples as if he had a headache.
"Holdstock walked," Sandy said. "Despite the handprint."
The Savior shrugged. "Figured that would happen. His cult buddies alibied him, right?"
"Right." He explained his dilemma about not being allowed to use the cult angle. "I mentioned that Terrence Holdstock was questioned, then released, but couldn't go beyond that."
The Savior said, "You've got to. There's a big story there."
"Yeah but I can't squeeze more ink out of it without an angle."
"Fielding was strangled. Can you imagine what that's like? Eyes bugging out, head feeling like it's going to explode. Nasty way to go. I think hunting his killer should be angle enough."
Sandy had to smile. "Do you know my girlfriend?"
"Should I?" he said, doing another body-twisting scan.
"Something wrong?
"You sure you weren't followed?"
"Absolutely." Well, not absolutely, but he was reasonably sure. "Why?"
"Got this watched feeling."
"Yeah?" Sandy glanced around. He saw a few people strolling above on Riverside Drive, but none of them appeared particularly interested in what was going on down here. "I don't."
"Had it since I left home, but I haven't been able to spot anybody. Maybe it's because I'm still not feeling right."
Or maybe you're scared, Sandy thought. I'd sure as hell be if I'd been poisoned.
"Worried they'll make another try on you?"
"The thought has crossed my mind."
Sandy wondered if hanging around this guy might be hazardous to his health. He glanced at his watch and rose.
"I've got a meeting with the DA about you."
The Savior's eyes widened. "Me?"
"Sure. Your amnesty."
"Forget that. Holdstock and his cult are the real story. You can bring in a murderer."
"And I can bring in a hero, too, if I can get you amnesty."
The Savior shook his head. "Holdstock. Not me. Holdstock."
"Don't worry. I'm on him right after I write up my DA't£te-a-tete."
Sandy waved and strolled away, leaving the Savior on the bench, rubbing his temples again.
He started thinking about his meeting with the DA. First off, just being able to book such a meeting was a jaw dropper; he'd called at eight and they'd penciled him in for 11:30. A week ago he'd still be waiting for the call-back that would never come. Sandy expected no promise of amnesty, but no outright refusal either. A carefully clipped hedge. Fine. That would be a battle call Sandy could use to rally the troops and circle the wagons around the Savior.
While simultaneously trying to expose a murder cult.
It ain't easy being me.
He was going to need some fancy footwork to keep all these balls in the air, but he was up to it.