May 10, 1964

“Hold it a second, Governor,” a photographer urged, aiming his camera at J.T. and the Governor.

“Sure thing,” said the Governor with a crinkle-eyed, wide smile. J.T. grinned lopsidedly as strobe lights flashed about the two of them. His father and mother and Marty, Courtnay, and Dana stood proudly to the side.

“Did you appoint Mr. Wright to be a kind of watchdog over the judiciary and the justice system?” a reporter asked, shoving a microphone at the Governor.

“I have instituted this special deputy attorney general’s post—special prosecutor, as you call it—to put to rest once and for all questions about the integrity of our justice system. No system can continue to perform its obligations if confidence in that system is undermined. I want Mr. Wright to investigate every aspect of the justice system and root out any corruption he finds, flush out any wrongdoers, until our justice system is again the finest justice system in America.”

“Mr. Wright, how long do you think it will take you to carry out the Governor’s mandate?” another reporter asked.

“Truthfully, there is no way to predict how long it will take. What I must do first is investigate and find the problem areas, and then prosecute the culprits to the limit of the law.”

“You have no actual prosecutorial experience. Despite that, do you feel that you will be able to accomplish all that the Governor wants?” asked another reporter, pointing a microphone at J.T.

The lights were hot. J.T. felt beads of perspiration on his forehead.

“Let me just say that Mr. Wright’s overall qualifications are second to none. That’s why I appointed him,” the Governor said, grinning.

The reporters laughed.

“And let me say that I will not rest, day or night, until I have accomplished everything that the Governor expects of my office,” said J.T. “I’ve had plenty of experience ferreting out vermin in the public’s midst. If there are vermin in the justice system, I’ll find them and exterminate them.”

The Governor smiled widely, nodding approval. “I have every confidence in Mr. Wright,” he said. “I’m sure that as special prosecutor he will have our justice system cleaner than it’s ever been—in as short a period as possible. I think the people of this state can rest easy now that Mr. Wright has accepted this post.”

“When do you expect to have a fully operational staff, Mr. Wright?” asked a reporter.

J.T. already had a briefing session with Dan Mastretta, the Governor’s press secretary, at which the anticipated questions of the media were covered and appropriate answers devised.

“I’ve already put a substantial staff together. I have no time to waste,” J.T. said.

“How many people are already on staff?”

“I don’t want to reveal a great deal about my staff. Much of it is going to be undercover, conducting covert operations. I intend to get to the bottom of the problem quickly, and I don’t intend to be thwarted by the guile of the criminal element at the fringe—and only that, mind you, the fringe—of our justice system. I have no doubt that I am going to find that the vast majority of the people involved in our justice system are honest, hardworking, public-spirited individuals. And I promise this to the criminal fringe of which I’ve spoken: I’m going to get you, and I’m going to get you soon,” he said, looking hard and straight into the cameras.

“I sure wouldn’t want him after me,” the Governor laughed, clapping J.T. on the back. “Any other questions, fellows?”

“Are there any areas of the system that you do not want the special prosecutor to investigate, any special consideration given to people whom you’ve appointed?”

“None whatsoever. Mr. Wright and I spoke at length before he even accepted this position, and I made it clear to him that he would have free rein, total independence of my office, to function anywhere he thought necessary.”

Dan Mastretta was standing just outside the flare of the lights, watching patiently. He moved forward slowly toward the media people, waiting as the last questions were asked, the last pictures taken, and raised his hands.

“Okay, thank you,” Mastretta said to the reporters.

“Thanks, fellows,” the Governor said with his usual grin.

The reporters started to pack their equipment and file out of the conference room.

“We have to get going now, Governor,” said Mastretta. “We have an appointment with the Board of Trade in fifteen minutes.”

“Hey, hiya, fella,” the Governor said, smiling widely at Big Jim Wright. Mastretta had done his usual precise job of briefing the Governor on the attending dignitaries. The Governor, a consummate politician, did not want to snub anyone. “You can be real proud of this young man,” he said, turning to put his arm around J.T.

J.T.’s mother’s eyes glistened. She held on to Big Jim’s arm tightly.

“This is Mrs. Wright,” Big Jim said.

“A real pleasure.”

“And Mr. and Mrs. Marty Boxer,” J.T. said. “Marty is going to be my chief of staff.”

“Oh, great.”

“This is Miss Dana Reynolds.”

“Dana, of course. You’re Archie’s daughter, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Give my regards to your swell dad, will you?”

“Yes, I will,”

“A couple of pictures with Mr. Wright and his family, Governor?” Mastretta asked. Mastretta’s staff photographer stood at the ready.

“Oh, sure.” He shook hands with J.T. as they looked at each other, surrounded by family. The photographer took a few shots, some with just J.T. and the Governor, the last one of J.T. and his family.

“We’d better go now, Governor,” Mastretta urged.

The Governor started for his office. “Oh, J.T. Talk to Al Murphy or Frank Smith to iron out any problems—office space, funds, whatever. They’ll help you along until everything is running smoothly.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Congratulations, son. I’m proud of you,” said Big Jim when the Governor had left.

“Thanks, Dad.”

His mother embraced J.T.

Over his mother’s shoulder, J.T. saw Dana, and next to her Courtnay, looking at him expectantly. The time for his heart-to-heart chat with Dana was obviously at hand. He had to steel himself for the unpleasant task, he thought. He didn’t want to hurt her. But at the same time he didn’t want to falter, to weaken. He had been upbraided, called on the carpet, interrogated, and scrutinized about Dana for the last time. He might have had to tolerate the intrusions and the pushiness while his job and career hung in the balance. But now he was on a new flight to glory. And that’s a solo flight, he reminded himself. No unnecessary baggage was going to be carried.