I stood out in the hall, trying to hear what Wallace and
Gray Talbot were discussing behind closed doors. Though
Wallace had told me to wait by my desk, I wasn't nearly patient enough. I felt better pacing a tread on the carpet outside of his office. I wondered what the hell Senator
Talbot was doing in the Gazette offices. Wallace seemed surprised, and I was pretty sure Gray had stopped by totally unannounced. Generally not the behavior of most politicians who throw a press conference to announce they've voided their bowels.
I felt slightly dirty, like a journalistic Peeping Tom, straining for quick glimpses. I could only make out corners of the office-Wallace had drawn the shades. I could see
Talbot pacing back and forth, his face angry. He was looking in one direction, which inferred that Wallace was sitting at his desk, most likely being defensive.
I got the distinct impression that Wallace was being read the riot act for something, I just wasn't sure what.
Finally after about twenty minutes, the door opened and
Gray Talbot exited. His navy suit was unruffled, his hair unmussed, his demeanor unshaken. Whatever he'd come for today, he'd gotten it.
As he walked by he slowed up, turned to me slightly, leaned in. I could smell his light aftershave, saw a small nick by his jawbone.
"Parker," he said. "You're better than this. I haven't forgotten what we spoke about. And I hope you haven't, either."
Before I could ask what the hell he was talking about,
Talbot was in the elevator.
Without waiting another second, I burst into Wallace's office. The editor-in-chief was sitting down, hands steepled, chin resting on his thumbs. He looked up at me without moving, his eyes flickering.
"Sit down, Henry." I sat.
"How did you get that information about Michelle
Oliveira?" he asked. I opened my mouth to speak. "And if you lie to me you're fired."
I sighed, knew I was cornered, knew there was nothing
I could do.
"I have a contact at the legal aid society. This person gave me information about the Oliveira case. The police report, and more." I kept it gender nonspecific, just in case. "The rest I did myself. Frankly I didn't really need it, it was just a shortcut-"
"Shortcuts are the death of our industry, Parker,"
Wallace said. "Jayson Blair took shortcuts. Stephen Glass took shortcuts. I don't expect you to want or need those.
And I hope to God you yourself think you're better than them."
"It wasn't like that," I said. "I knew there was more to this Linwood story than was being reported, and I needed something to tie them together. You know there's a connection. And without those papers I might not have found it. You can call it a shortcut, I call it a story worth investigating. My source is reliable, and the papers are authentic."
"Ethics and honesty are not always independent of each other," Wallace said.
I felt my body go slack. "So what now?" I said. "What did Talbot want?"
"You forget about this story now."
I felt my body go numb. "That's ridiculous. He can't spike a story because he doesn't like my sources."
"Gray Talbot has threatened to prosecute you, and by proxy us, if any of what you've told me about Daniel
Linwood or Michelle Oliveira ever runs. He knows that you obtained those files and he knows you did it illegally, without the knowledge of the LAS. Like you said, it was one rogue employee. And like a good politician he's going to hold it over our heads until we bend to his will. I know you've worked hard on this, Henry, but let it go."
I stood up. "This is bullshit," I said. "Do you really think it's the right thing to let it go? Do you honestly believe there's nothing more to find on this story?"
"We're not crusaders," Wallace said. "We're not vigilantes, or judges or heroes. You are a reporter. Nothing more or less. It's not my call to say what's right and what's wrong. But I can tell you what your job is. And as of
Monday, I'll have a new assignment for you. Now go. Get rid of any files you have. Take the weekend, recharge your batteries and get ready to kick some ass next week."
"Right. Kick some ass," I said lethargically. I left
Wallace's office without saying another word. I didn't know if I was going to be able to "recharge" over the weekend, but one thing was for damn sure. I wasn't getting rid of those files. And I sure as hell wasn't letting this story go.