used by every famous lawman and lawbreaker whose ass got sore from horseback riding.'
'This sounds awful thin,' Jack said. My heart sank. 'But it also sounds awfully intriguing. And nobody's covered this angle yet?'
'Not that I know of. But take that gun and the quote from
Billy the Kid, and I'd say this killer has a serious obsession with the Old West. Somehow Athena Paradis, Mayor Perez and Jeffrey Lourdes are connected in this guy's mind. The other day you talked about Billy the Kid being some sort of
Robin Hood.' I stopped, looked at Jack. 'What if this guy really thinks he was right in killing those people? You know
Wallace won't let me run with the story as is.'
'Not with your primary source being a college history professor, he won't. Even with the gun and ballistics it's too tenuous.'
'Were you able to get those papers?' I asked.
Jack reached into his briefcase, pulled out a leather folder.
From the folder he retrieved several pages of printouts.
'Every museum in the fifty that has a registered Winchester '73,' he said.
'Oh man, this is beautiful. Thanks a ton.'
'Don't sweat it.'
'Can't imagine Wallace will green-light any expenses for this, either.'
'Doubtful. That assistant who witnessed Lourdes's murder,' Jack said.
'Betty Grable.'
'She had to be transferred to Bellevue. Seeing her boss killed like that, something snapped. Hate to say it, but it's a good thing you got a minute of her time.'
'That's terrible,' I said.
'Ripples, Henry. Not just the dead are affected by death.'
'Guess not.'
'That quote,' Jack said. 'Billy the Kid. You got something, but it's not nearly concrete enough for Wallace to let you print it.'
'I'll find more,' I said. 'But I need time, resources.'
Jack looked at me, seemed to be weighing something.
Then he took a pen and pad from the briefcase. He opened the pad, scribbled something on it, then ripped off a piece of paper and handed it to me. It was a check for two thousand dollars.
'Jack, I can't possibly…'
'Take it,' he said. 'This will buy you some resources. And if it leads to anything, I expect to be reimbursed.'
'And if it doesn't lead to anything?'
Jack smiled. 'Then I expect one hell of a birthday present.'
I had nothing to say, but, 'Thank you.'
'Don't mention it again,' Jack said. He finished his drink, set it down. The waitress came over and he nodded for one more.
He saw my eyes following his. 'Trust me, kid, once you get to my age you can't underestimate the importance of a good drink.'
'I'll remember that, but I have a few years.'
'Yeah, you do, but they go by quick. Wasn't long ago I was meeting my boss for drinks. Now,' Jack said. 'That girl you're with. Amanda's her name, right?'
'That's right.' In the year and a half since I'd known
Jack, we'd never discussed Amanda other than platitudes and pleasantries.
'And you two met during the Fredrickson fiasco.'
'They say the best relationships are born out of extreme circumstances.'
Jack's eyes had a flicker of recognition. 'I think I heard that in a movie once.'
'Probably.'
'How are things going between you two?'
I shrugged my shoulders. 'Good, I guess. We're living together. Soon, I know, after everything that happened, but it feels good.'
'That's nice,' Jack said wistfully. 'Another thing you can never underestimate is companionship.' Jack, I knew, had been married, and divorced, three times. 'So I guess you'd say it's serious.'
I laughed. 'Yeah, I think so. Besides, if Amanda ever knew I said no to that question I'd wake up the next morning with no teeth.'
'Feisty, is she?'
'She'd kick feisty's ass down the block.'
'That's good,' Jack said, smiling. 'You know I look at you across this table, you look at me the same way I used to look at Petey Vincent.'
'The name rings a bell,' I said.
'Petey Vincent was my idol growing up. Those days, newsmen were the toast of the city. You reported the hot stories, had more groupies than ballplayers, spent the evenings at your Park Avenue homes and ate caviar. Nowadays the only way a reporter eats caviar is if an I-banker sends it to them at Christmas. It's a thankless job, so you gotta really love it.'
'I do,' I said.
'What I'm saying is,' Jack continued, 'if you want to be a great reporter, you need to keep Amanda this far from you.'
He held out his arm, as though holding up a wall.
'Why would I want to do that?'
'I'm not going to ask if you love her,' Jack said. 'Love is easier to find than you think. But nobody remembers great love. People remember great men and women for who they are, not who they love. At some point in every relationship, you have to make a choice as to what your priorities are. At some point this job will demand more of your time than your loved ones are willing to give up. And when that happens, you can either be prepared for it or you get overwhelmed. You'll end up a half-assed reporter and a half-assed husband. And then you'll have nothing.'
The waitress came back with a refill of Jack's drink. She noticed that neither of us were speaking. 'Getcha another?' she said, nodding at my half-finished beer.
'No, thanks.' She clicked her gum and walked away.
'I don't think I could ever give her up,' I said. Jack sighed, looked down.
'Then you'll make a fine beat journalist. Live with exposed brick and take the subway because you can't afford taxis.'
'That's not why I do this job.'
'Of course it's not,' Jack said. 'But in any industry, the money level rises as the talent itself does. The better you are, the more you're needed. And when the money comes, so does love. It might not be the forever kind of love people with shitty mortgages have, it might not last until you die, but it's good enough to make you smile every once in a while. And that's what life is about, in the end. When you stare into the abyss, you want a smile to come back at you. Even if it's just sometimes.'
'I have that,' I said. I felt a pressure on my chest. I took a sip of beer and swallowed it down.
'You try to make everyone happy, you wind up making nobody happy. Anyway,' Jack said, raising his glass, 'here's to the story. Let's find out more about this asshole, and hopefully put an end to it. Keep digging, Henry. Just don't stand too close to the hole.'
22
