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One Saturday, April 21 LANCERANDOLPH HAD NEVERbeen in the White Hou Two Sunday, April 22 WHY IS IT THAT A SEEMINGLYinconsequential bud Three ILIVE ON A HOUSEBOATin Boston Harbor, a lifestyle not entirely congruent wit Four Monday, April 23 THERE WAS SOMETHING INTRINSICALLYnice about t Five IBEGAN THIS TRIPbelieving I was doing little more than a favor for Paul Ellis Six AS THE LATE AFTERNOONbreeze turned brisk across Boston Harbor, I was somewhere Seven TWO HOURS EARLIER GOVERNORLance Randolph sat in the Cabinet Room of the Whit Eight IALL BUT STAGGEREDinto the newsroom, my mind soft and my body weak, drifting Nine MY FIRST CALL WASfrom Paul’s wife, Polly. Yes, Paul and Polly, a favorite pai Ten THE NEWS-GATHERING CRAFTis hardest when there isn’t actually any news, when ov Eleven Tuesday, April 24 WELL, EVERY DAY BRINGSsomething different. Twelve Six Years Earlier WHEN THE FIRST OFthe network affiliates, W Thirteen I’VE ALREADY SHOWN THROUGHmy journey down to Florida that one of the gold Fourteen THE DINING ROOM OFthe University Club was filled with the clink of fine c Fifteen SO MAYBE IT BRUSHEDup against the pathetic, but as I jumped out of my car Sixteen Wednesday, April 25 THE EAVES WERE FILLEDwith the haunting Seventeen THE PLAINTIVE MOOD OFthe newsroom over the past two days had given way t Eighteen ALOT OF PEOPLE, too many people, regard my quaint hamlet of Boston like i Nineteen THE TWO OF US,myself and Hank Sweeney, strode through the front gates of Twenty TIRED DOESN’T COME NEARto describing how I felt as we pulled into the grave Twenty-One Thursday, April 26 THE FIRST SENSATION WASthat of light, Twenty-Two TERRYCAMPBELL WAS SITTINGon the corner stool of the Street Bar at the R Twenty-Three WE WERE AT A FAIRone night, Elizabeth and me, at one of those traveli Twenty-Four WHEN IT’S A TIPfrom a source, it’s called a lead. When it’s a warning Twenty-Five Seven years earlier THE LAST LINES OFlight were fading Twenty-Six IPACED BACK ANDforth in the hushed, carpeted hallway, wondering what wo Twenty-Seven IUSED TO THINKI knew lonely. Lonely was staring down at the angelic f Twenty-Eight SITTING IN THE CARwith my police escorts, I still had no idea where I Twenty-Nine THIS WASN’T ANY BROKENdown retiree I was with, or the despondent fathe Thirty ISUCKED IN AIRso hard I almost swallowed my mask. I looked across the bleak Thirty-One Friday, April 27 ISTOLE A SIDELONGglance at Vinny Mongil Thirty-Two WE TOUCHED DOWN AT4:30P.M.at National Airport, renamed Reagan National Thirty-Three AT TIMES LIKE THIS, you have to ask yourself why you got into the bus Thirty-Four Saturday, April 28 BOSTON’SCOMBATZONE ISN’Twhat it used Thirty-Five SHE WAS KNEELING ONthe antique Oriental rug, boxes all around her and Thirty-Six MONGILLO PULLED THE NAVYblueRecord delivery truck into the newspaper’s Thirty-Seven Seven years earlier ONE EVENT DOWN,one more to go, Ber Thirty-Eight THE WOODEN STAIRS LEADINGup to Robert Fitzgerald’s second story offic Thirty-Nine SPEAK OF THE GOVERNOR,I turned fully around in the leather chair to se Forty Two weeks later SOI’M SITTING ATa bar in a small town outside
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