Chapter 15

 

Sipping an oversized cup of espresso, a tired-looking Suzanne Godard began her meeting the next morning by saying she’d already spent two hours talking to her bosses.

“They’re concerned our coverage will be compromised by what’s happened, not just with the death of the driver, but especially with the announcement that the police consider Colin Bothwick’s death to be murder.”

She paused to let that sink in. Burke glanced at Menard who was nibbling at a croissant and looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. When he turned toward Monique Chan, Burke thought the young woman was bracing herself for the challenges ahead. Then he looked at Jules Tessier, the stats expert, who sat in the corner, eyes studying his laptop screen. Burke thought it was almost like he wanted to be invisible.

“We have to address what’s been happening without going into excessive detail and without removing the focus from our coverage of the Vuelta,” Godard continued. “I’d like to hear your ideas for doing so.”

Burke didn’t have any suggestions and so he was glad when Menard, the veteran of 30 years at the mic, took control, saying, “We neither bury the stories nor amplify them. In our pre-race coverage, we mention there have been two unfortunate deaths associated with the Vuelta and that the regional police are investigating. Then we get back to telling the viewers what they can expect from the stage ending here in Tarragona. It might also be worth mentioning that occasionally fatal accidents occur at big races such as the Vuelta, the Tour de France and the Giro d’Italia. That way, what’s happened in the last couple of days won’t seem totally unusual.”

Godard nodded. “Good. I agree. And it’s also what senior management is leaning toward. I’ll get back to them in a few minutes and I expect they’ll say we should proceed with that strategy. I should mention the two deaths are definitely going to get some play during our network’s evening newscast. It won’t be a long story, just a few seconds and then onto the next piece.”

Godard turned toward her intern. “Monique, I want you to keep track of any media coverage of the two deaths and I also want you to do hourly checks on what might be happening on social media about Bothwick and the truck driver, OK?”

Chan nodded and tapped away on her tablet.

“Now, Paul, you’ve been quiet,” Godard said. “Any thoughts?”

“Nico, you and the big bosses seem to have everything under control.”

Godard took a sip of her coffee and smiled but without any humor in her eyes. “Thanks, but I still expect you have some ideas, so please tell me.”

“Suzanne, I’m no expert in the media. I’m just a blogger.”

“And a panelist on a TV show. So, you must have something to offer.”

Burke could see Godard wasn’t going to relent.

“I agree we don’t sensationalize what’s happened,” he said. “We just give the audience the facts, mention how sorry we are about the loss of Bothwick – and probably the truck driver as well – and get back to the business of covering the race. If other media outlets or people on social media want to make a bigger deal of events, that’s their decision.”

Godard nodded. Then she looked at Menard, Chan and Tessier. “Would you please leave Paul and me alone for a few minutes?”

Burke was surprised. What did she want to discuss? His on-air efforts? He didn’t have any idea. But Menard and Chan didn’t protest and left the room with Menard raising an eyebrow at Burke as he closed the door behind him.

When they were gone, Godard studied something on her notepad. After a half minute, she looked up at Burke. She might have been tired, but her eyes showed a fierce intelligence and plenty of determination.

“I know about you, Paul,” she began. “I know about your past, what you’ve accomplished in the media, but also what you’ve done away from your blogs, columns and panel show.”

Burke had an idea what she was alluding to, but he kept quiet.

“I noticed you seemed slightly preoccupied with the death of the truck driver, almost like you think there’s more there than the driver made a mistake and died in a fatal crash.”

Burke waited a few seconds and then said, “It just struck me as odd.”

“What did?”

“Why he went that way. Supposedly, he took a poorly lit country road to save a few kilometres and get to Tarragona faster. But there was no way he could drive with speed. I’d wager he couldn’t go much faster than 80 on several stretches of the road and that meant he’d probably end up taking longer to reach Tarragona. Since he was supposedly a regional driver, you’d think he’d know that.”

“So, why do you think he did that?”

Burke couldn’t see how this discussion had anything to do with the network’s coverage of the Vuelta, but there was no doubt that Godard wanted to talk about the truck driver’s accident and what it might mean.

“I’m not sure how you think this relates to our TV coverage,” Burke said.

“Let me decide that, Paul. Now, tell me why you think the driver took that country road.”

Burke paused for a few seconds and then said, “He didn’t do it to save time. He did it because someone forced him to.”

“You mean ordered him to?”

“Maybe. Or maybe someone physically forced him to take that route.”

“And as a result, he had an accident and died, right?” Godard said.

“If it was an accident.”

Burke didn’t think Godard looked surprised by his last comment. In a way, it seemed like she had been anticipating it.

“So, you’re thinking someone might have killed him.”

“I’m just saying a random accident doesn’t fit the facts.”

Godard said nothing for a few seconds. Then she stood. “We need to talk more about this, Paul. Let’s do it after today’s stage.”

“OK, if that’s what you want.”

“Have you talked to anyone else about your ideas about the truck driver?”

“No.”

“Keep it that way.”

And then she marched out of the meeting room, leaving Burke to ponder what had really happened on that quiet country road where the truck driver died.