The New York Chronicle building thrust up from the sprawl on the east side of Midtown. In gleaming glass and steel, with windows looking out across all parts of the city it served, the skyscraper was a monument to the principles of campaigning journalism.
‘If this is all true, it’s dynamite material, Mr Murray.’
Rachel Cohen stared down at the notes she’d scrawled on the yellow legal pad in the compact interview office overlooking the bustling newsroom. Rachel was one of the more seasoned hacks in this media empire, with several awards to her name and a resumé that saw her covering almost every major event of the last fifteen years. Rory had used all of his communication skills to get Rachel on board. This story needed the weight that she could offer, not some spotty-faced kid straight out of journalism college.
‘It’s all true, believe me. As much as I wish it weren’t.’ Rory showed a well-practised concerned expression. ‘Where do we go from here?’
‘I’m going to type up my notes and get the story into the morning news conference.’ She checked the time on her phone. ‘Which I can just about do if I’m fast. I’m confident the editor will give it the green light. Once we have that approval, I think we’ll get you in for our daily news podcast so you can talk through your investigation. It’s hugely popular; global reach.
‘We’ll run the story in the paper and online alongside that, backed up by our social media channels. Maybe a profile of you for our weekend magazine. How does that suit you?’
‘That sounds perfect.’
‘OK. If I could ask you to keep your phone on at all times. We’ll need to move quickly on a story of this magnitude. We’ll need plenty of fact-checking and we won’t want any of the agencies you mentioned trying to shut this down. If everything stands up, we’ll be ready to run.’
‘Hot off the presses!’ Rory stood up and gave the faintest of bows. ‘And I have to say, big fan of your work. Let’s shine the light of truth into the murky corners of the entire Flight 702 cover-up.’
Rory eased through the queues in the coffee shop and the cloud of fragrant steam to the small room at the back. There, Kaitlin sat in the corner in her shapeless hoodie with her Jets cap pulled so low it was impossible to tell even her gender.
He watched her for a moment, feeling a rare sense of warmth and protectiveness over her, which made him think of his daughter, Zara. Kaitlin looked so fragile and insignificant, yet she’d been a relentless force, single-handedly driving this entire investigation with courage and determination.
She was scared now, he could see that. Her encounter with the CIA and her nights spent God only knew where had rattled her. But here she was still, risking it all to do the right thing.
‘How did it go?’ she asked when he pulled up a chair opposite her.
‘Just waiting for final approval, then we’re good to go.’
‘You still think this is the right thing to do?’
‘Conspiracies thrive in the dark, and so do threats. Once this is out there, the CIA won’t have to concern themselves with you exposing their shortcomings. They’ll have bigger things to worry about.’
‘Or so you hope.’
‘OK, it’s a gamble. But once the story is in the public sphere, we can get real government oversight of any investigation – here and in the UK.’
‘Unless both governments are involved.’
‘Then you and I are both spending the rest of our lives hanging out in the wilds of Nebraska.’ Rory watched her weary face as her eyes darted around the coffee shop. This clearly wasn’t the moment for his light-hearted humour. ‘We’re near the endgame now,’ he told her gently, reaching out to squeeze her hand. ‘We’ve identified the major players. We’re just putting the final pieces in the puzzle, but we can see the big picture forming. We’ve just got to hold firm for a little bit longer.’
Kaitlin nodded. ‘You’re right. I know.’
‘Don’t forget – you don’t have to do this on your own. Not any more.’
She forced a pale smile. After the darkness and misery he’d seen in her face, it seemed like a lamp coming on.
His phone buzzed and as he glanced down at it and saw a familiar photo, he felt his blood run cold. Oblivious to Kaitlin’s curious expression, he scanned the accompanying message and then said, ‘I’ve gotta take this. I’ll be back in a minute.’
He hurried out before she had the chance to say a word.
Rory glanced up and down the street, searching every face that passed. Finally, he heard a name muttered just behind his ear and he turned to see a woman with dyed blue hair, shaved on the right side and a nose ring.
‘Walk with me,’ she said and stepped away.
Rory skipped to catch up. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded.
‘You saw the photo?’
‘Who are you?’ he insisted again.
‘There’s a lot more material where that came from. You’ve really dug deep in some holes. There’s a lot more material.’
‘CIA? S-some underground group?’
‘You visited the New York Chronicle office.’ She paused by her reflection in a window and ran fingers through her hair. ‘If you’re thinking of going public with any of the information you have, I’d definitely think again.’
They were watching him, whoever ‘they’ were. He’d suspected it, of course he had. But he’d never thought they’d take this route. That was stupid of him. He really should have known better.
‘You’re going to blackmail me?’ he said.
Finishing her grooming, the woman set off again, not even deigning to throw Rory a glance. ‘That photo. Rose Greer. You remember her? Of course you do. Wow, that was a messy affair. And with a client, too. That must have thrown up a few ethical issues. I mean, I’m no attorney, but I’m guessing sleeping with a client and then screwing up her case might raise a conflict or two with the American Bar Association’s Model Rules of Professional Conduct? Yes? No?’
Rory stared at the sidewalk. That had been a difficult time in his life. He had thought it was dead and buried.
‘I don’t know how much your wife knew about it. Remind me, which wife was it at the time? I’ll have to check. You did a great job keeping that out of the public eye. But if it hit now? With a daughter locked up in a foreign clinic?’
‘She’s not locked up,’ he snapped.
‘And the bills not getting paid, like you don’t really care for her.’ The woman shrugged. ‘Wow. What a dick. That’s what people will be thinking, right? Could be career ending. Oh, if only that was the end of it.’
Rory swallowed. He could see where this was going.
‘I took a look at a pretty big file,’ she continued. ‘Some quite detailed accusations of bribery and corruption.’
‘Accusations!’ Rory stressed. He could feel the sweat trickling down his back. ‘Nothing proven.’
‘Because none of them, as yet, have been investigated.’ This time, she did glance at him. A tight smile, twitching at the corners. ‘So, here’s the deal, Mr Murray. You go public. We go public. You decide to walk away from this, so do we.’
Rory stared into her eyes, but he was looking right through her, into his past and deep into his future. He could see how this would unfold. The scandal. The shame. Everything he’d worked so hard for, destroyed. He was a pragmatic man. He could weigh the opposing outcomes and it wasn’t even close. Besides, he wasn’t a brave man. He was clear-eyed about his flaws. He’d rather run and hide and live to fight another day.
No, he couldn’t see his whole life brought down, just for Flight 702.
There would be other fights. He’d have a chance to redeem himself.
‘OK,’ he said, feeling his stomach churn. ‘You have a deal.’
‘You’re a wise man, Mr Murray. Hopefully, we’ll never have to meet again.’
She turned round and walked away into the flow of passers-by. Rory watched her blue hair bobbing away.
In that instant, he realised his hands were trembling. And not just that. His entire body was shuddering as if he were gripped by an awful sickness. He staggered to one side and crashed against the wall, propping himself up before he slumped down to the sidewalk.
Get a grip. You’re falling apart. What’s wrong with you?
A moment later, he understood what this terrible, unfamiliar feeling was: his conscience.
God, he hated it.
Gritting his teeth, Rory hurled himself along the sidewalk, throwing cursing strangers this way and that. Finally, he caught up with the blue-haired woman and grabbed her shoulder. She whirled.
‘I take it back,’ he gasped. ‘I take it all back.’
Those eyes, like steel, carving him up.
‘Do your worst,’ he said.
The woman raised an eyebrow, then she nodded. ‘Oh, don’t worry. We will.’
She marched away without a backwards glance.
Still shaking, Rory staggered back inside and slipped into the seat opposite Kaitlin.
‘Rory! What’s happened?’ she asked, looking shocked.
After pouring out his experience, he sucked in a few deep breaths to calm himself and said, ‘Let me tell you what a horrible human being I am.’
And for the next half-hour, Rory detailed every failing, every flaw, every line crossed for whatever reason, in both his business and personal life. He spoke about all of his ex-wives and the stupid things he’d done to crash every marriage. The affairs he’d had and the ones he’d seemed incapable of avoiding, even when he was happy with his partner at the time. He admitted to his emotional weaknesses – and for the first time admitted them to himself – and described how he felt he’d failed his daughter and had never done enough to help with her addiction. He’d even let down some of his clients, and his business was where his focus had always been.
Rory watched Kaitlin’s eyes widen as the seemingly endless list continued and he gripped himself for the moment when she’d get up and walk out. But to her credit, she stuck it out.
‘You deserve to know who you’re working with,’ he said, ‘and I apologise for not being straight with you from the start. I guess I didn’t want you to judge me. To be honest, I’ve spent so long avoiding even thinking about any of this to refrain from judging myself.’
‘So why now?’
‘Someone just tried to blackmail me. Said they’d make all this public if I didn’t walk away from the investigation, or if I made any attempt to go public with what we know.’
Kaitlin tapped her straw on the edge of the table. ‘This will pretty much destroy you.’
‘I know.’
‘So?’
Rory sucked in a steadying breath. ‘I told them to get back on their horse and ride out of town.’
Kaitlin nodded. She had a good poker face, he thought.
‘I’m pretty horrified. I mean, anyone would be, hearing all that.’
‘I understand.’
‘But, taking a stand like that, I suppose it shows some integrity.’
‘I thank you for that, however grudging it might be.’
They both grinned at one another and the tension broke. A brief moment of relief among all the sweat and doubt and fear.
‘On a positive note, they must be worried,’ Kaitlin added. ‘We’re getting closer to the truth.’
Rory cracked his knuckles. ‘Time to let the world know all about Flight 702 and the White Matchmaker.’