Charm City

always had a hunch Wink would die before I did. I didn't expect it to happen this soon.'

'Lea told me she and Wink were really strapped. She thought you might have coerced him into signing that agreement.'

'Lea shouldn't try and think,' Linda said. 'She'll get dents in her adorable young forehead.'

'Did Wink threaten to cut you off after the story came out and the secrets of your marriage were exposed? Did he tell you all bets were off?'

Linda Wynkowski smiled strangely. 'If anything, the stakes were higher than ever after the story came out.'

'Did you talk to the Beacon-Light? Were you the source?'

Linda's eyes remained fixed on her image in the mirror. 'Wink and I had an agreement to never discuss our marriage with anyone. I kept my part of it. I told that other girl from the Beacon-Light that I wouldn't comment at all.'

'The article said you didn't deny the charges.'

'Well, it was half right. I told her I wouldn't confirm or deny anything she asked me about my time with Wink. Funny, how much it changes the meaning, losing a word here and there. I called Miss Ruiz to complain and she told me the error had been edited into the story and she would ask for a correction. I'm not holding my breath. I've lived in Baltimore all my life, I know how arrogant the Beacon-Light is.'

One of the sales clerks opened the curtains and gave an involuntary cry when she saw Linda and Tess ankle- deep in hundreds of dollars of clothes. 'Oh, Mrs. Wynkowski, couldn't you at least put the dresses over the chair? You know I'm glad to hang them for you when you're done, but we can't have them on the floor.'

To Tess's amazement, Linda shoved roughly past the young woman, knocking her into the wall, then stepping down hard on her foot.

'The customer is always right,' she called over her shoulder, as tears came to the clerk's eyes. 'Didn't anyone ever tell you that?'

On the way back to the Blight, Tess puzzled over what Linda Wynkowski had told her. Despite her antipathy toward Rosita, she knew editors did insert errors into stories. And people often complained of being misquoted when what they really had was a bad case of interviewee's remorse. Possibly Rosita had confused Linda with a jumble of reporting jargon: on background, off the record, not for attribution. Given that most reporters couldn't agree on the meaning of those terms, it was impossible for a civilian to understand. But Linda had seemed quite definite that she had told Rosita she would neither confirm nor deny. She was right: dropping one word made a lot of difference in that quote. She had offered a no comment; Rosita had twisted it into serving her needs.

As Tess got off the elevator on the third floor, Feeney got on, barely glancing at her. She darted back in at the last second, the elevator doors bouncing off her shoulders.

'It's funny, Feeney. You're one of two people I know in this whole building and you're the one person I never see or hear from. Whitney at least sends me electronic greetings and drops in.'

Feeney studied his shoes. Penniless penny loafers, as usual. Worn with no socks, as usual. 'This basketball story has taken over my life. It's like a greased boa constrictor. It twists, it turns, and just when I think I've got it pinned down, it turns out the snake's about to swallow me.'

'Does Baltimore still have a chance to get a team?'

'Maybe. The deal has lost a lot of momentum since Wink's death, although there's actually more real money connected to it, now that the Tucci family has decided to put its full weight behind it. With Paul as the majority partner, the family is willing to put up a lot more than before. But money isn't everything. Wink may not have brought that much money to the table, but he did have cunning and charisma, something Paul Tucci can't fake. Tucci's not exactly the brightest light on the Christmas tree. Why do you think he's still not a full partner in his father's business?'

The elevator had reached the first floor. Tess walked outside with Feeney, determined to prolong their conversation. She wanted to bring him around to his phony alibi, the lie that had her wrestling with her own greased boa constrictor, but she knew better than to be too direct or confrontational.

'What a difference a week makes. Last time we talked, you were delivering the eulogy for your own career. Remember?' The night you lied about your whereabouts, and dragged me into this whole mess.

Feeney made a strangled noise, half-grunt, half-laugh.

'Then comes what your publisher likes to call the ‘unscheduled publication' and- bam-everything starts falling into place. The first story leads to the tip from the guy in Georgia and you suddenly have the story of your career.'

'And Wink is dead.'

'How did you get there so fast the night Wink died, then get the story in the paper? It must have happened right on deadline.'

'I dictated from a pay phone outside a Royal Farm on Reisterstown Road.'

'But the story said the cops didn't arrive until ten-thirty, so you had to be right behind them. Who tipped you off? County police? The medical examiner? An ambulance driver?'

'I didn't get there right behind the cops, Tess. I got there right before them.'

Tess stopped at the bottom of the long, low steps in front of the Blight and grabbed Feeney's arm, forcing him to stop and look at her.

'Wink? Wink called you?'

'He called my beeper and left his phone number. I recognized the number-I'd been dialing it almost every day, if only to get a ‘no comment' from him or a ‘drop dead' from his wife. I called back, no answer. I figured if Wink was ready to talk to me, I shouldn't let the mood pass, and I drove out there. The garage was closed and locked, but the front door was unlocked, as if he had been waiting for me all along. And I guess he was, in a way. Wink always did do things with flair.'

'What did you do?'

'I called the cops from his house. And then I got out my notebook, took down all the information, and filed my story, like a good boy.'

'The story said the cops found the body.'

'No, we neatly sidestepped that detail. I wanted to put it in-I thought it made for a nice ironic touch. You know how the editors like those phrases ‘The Beacon-Light has learned,' or ‘As the Beacon- Light first reported.' I dictated: ‘The Beacon-Light last night discovered the body of Wink Wynkowski, an apparent suicide.' Colleen and Jack over-ruled me.'

'It is a little melodramatic.'

'Have you ever seen a dead body?' Feeney asked, then blushed, remembering Tess had seen her share. He jammed his hands in his pocket and began walking north along Eutaw. She fell in step beside him, too intent on their conversation to be put off by his rudeness.

'You shouldn't feel guilty, Feeney. I bet Rosita doesn't have any guilt pangs, and she's as responsible as you are.'

'Rosita's young. She's probably mad he didn't beep her. Rosita always thought she could crack the story wide open if she had a few minutes with Wink. She does get people to open up to her, I'll give her that. I don't know how she does it.'

I do. She doesn't let their quotes get in the way of the story.

'How much reporting did she contribute to the first story? Without any help from you, I mean.'

'Most of the personal stuff about Wink, the details about his marriage and his childhood. And she was the one who got the call from the guy who knew him at Montrose. She wanted to do that interview by herself, but Sterling was skeptical about the guy, wanted to good-cop/bad-cop him, make sure he wasn't some petty psycho. Rosita went in all empathetic, while I was the hard-ass. The guy was solid, though, and my courthouse source backed him up.'

'Did the courthouse source help you out on the first story? Was he one of the people you didn't want to identify?'

'Yeah, he's given us lots of stuff over the years, it would be crazy to burn him. But the key was the financial