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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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