John Feinstein - Change-up - Mystery at the World Series

“Come back in January and tell me if you still feel that way,” she said.

He knew she was right, although Philadelphia wasn’t exactly Fort Lauderdale that time of year either.

They went to her room after breakfast and by eleven o’clock had a story they were ready to show Kelleher and Mearns. It was long-way long, close to three thousand words-but it seemed impossible to Stevie to explain everything without writing that long. Since they didn’t have a printer available, Kelleher sat with their laptop, with Tamara reading over his shoulder.

“Well?” Susan Carol said when they were done.

“To be honest, you haven’t got it,” Tamara said. “This would never get in the paper because it’s completely unclear if Doyle is anything more than someone who made a horrible mistake and paid a huge price for it. It’s also not clear if Molloy is the bad guy or if no one is the bad guy. You can’t say for sure whether or not the accident happened because he was drinking. It seems clear there was some kind of police cover-up, but not what they were covering up or why.”

“All of which doesn’t matter right now,” Kelleher said. “Tamara’s right, of course, but we aren’t selling this to editors or lawyers, we’re selling it to Morra and David. If they believe we’re prepared to print this, they might convince their dad to talk to you before it goes in the paper.”

“In fact,” Mearns said, “you should add a sentence saying he refused to comment, to show them that’s how it will look if he doesn’t talk.”

Kelleher and Mearns made a few more changes: they wanted to pump up the notion that Doyle had lied on some level when he told Stevie the week before that his wife had been killed by a drunk driver.

Then Kelleher also added:

If there is one thing clear in the police report, it is that only one driver was involved in the accident that killed Analise Doyle. If, as Doyle said a week ago, she was killed by a drunk driver, was he saying that he was the drunk driver responsible for his wife’s death?

And while Doyle has said he missed the rest of that season due to injuries suffered in the accident, two police officers said this week that he went directly to an alcohol rehabilitation clinic after the accident.

Doyle refused comment when asked for further details this week.

Mearns shook her head reading that. “You know that wouldn’t make it past a lawyer in a million years,” she said.

“Yes,” Kelleher said. “I know. But I doubt that the Doyle kids do. Felkoff might advise Doyle that it’s libel, but we’ve got both Hatley and Molloy on the record, so it’s not so cut-and-dried.”

Stevie and Susan Carol went downstairs to the hotel’s business center to print out some copies of the story. They gave copies to Kelleher and Mearns and left the hotel at about twelve-thirty, wanting time to eat and be ready before the Doyles arrived. Stevie was both nervous and hungry. He was also wishing they were just taking a walk on this beautiful fall day.

“It’s such a nice day, I’d even go for a walk on the Freedom Trail with you.”

“You know, you might actually enjoy it,” Susan Carol said. “Wouldn’t you at least like to see the church where Paul Revere told them, ‘One if by land, and two if by sea’?”

“I think I’d rather go see Harvard Stadium,” he said. “Oldest in the country, you know.”

She groaned. They ordered their pizza and walked to the dining area. Stevie was considering going back for a third slice when he saw David and Morra approach. Neither was carrying any kind of food. Clearly, they were here strictly for business.

“Make this fast,” David said by way of a greeting.

“Nice to see you too,” Stevie said, going very quickly from nervous to annoyed.

“Have you got the story?” Morra asked.

Susan Carol reached into her purse and pulled out two copies of the story.

David’s and Morra’s eyes narrowed as they read. At one point David said, “How can you say my dad had no comment when you haven’t asked him about any of this?”

“Bobby Kelleher left him a message yesterday and called John Dever, who said he wouldn’t talk to us,” Susan Carol said. “Obviously, if he talks to us, we’ll change that. We can change anything. Right now these are the facts as we know them.”

“This is so unfair!” Morra screamed.

“Then tell your dad to talk to us so we can make it fair,” Stevie said. “ He started all of this by saying a drunk driver killed your mom.”

“You’re nothing but a self-righteous asshole, Thomas!” David Doyle said, leaning close to Stevie so he wasn’t heard by everyone around them. He appeared to be about eleven feet tall at that moment, but Stevie wasn’t going to back down.

Stevie said, “You’re just pissed because you’ve tried every dirty trick to keep us from getting this story, and we got it anyway.”

“No you didn’t . You’ve got nothing!” David said, shoving Stevie so hard that he tumbled backward and fell into someone at the next table.

“Hey!” Stevie heard the person shout. Jumping up, Stevie ran straight at David, and the two of them went flying, landing on the ground with Stevie on top. Doyle was stronger than he was, and he could feel him rolling over to get on top of him. That would not be good. He pulled a hand free and swung a fist at David, catching him on the side of the head. He felt a stinging sensation in his hand and then heard loud voices saying, “Break this up, break this up!”

A security guard was pulling David away, and another was pulling Stevie to his feet. David struggled briefly, but the beefy guard was holding on tight. Stevie didn’t struggle. He was relieved someone had intervened. The fight, he suspected, would not have gone well for him if it had continued.

“You want to fight, you take it someplace else,” the security guard holding David said. “You got that?”

David didn’t answer. “Hey, kid, you got that?” the guard repeated. “Start in again and we’ll call the cops and let them deal with you. Understand?”

Stevie nodded that he understood.

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” David said.

The two guards let the boys go, then stood there to make sure no one lunged for anyone.

Stevie pointed a finger at both Doyles. “The story runs Thursday,” he said, aware that people were still watching and listening. “One way or the other.”

He turned to Susan Carol. “Let’s go,” he said.

“This isn’t over, Thomas,” he heard David shout as he turned to walk away. “I promise you it’s not over.”

Stevie knew that David Doyle was right. This was far from over.

STEVIE WONDERED HOW SUSAN CAROL WOULD FEEL about his fight with David, and if she had noticed that when the security guards showed up, he was about to lose. Her concern didn’t seem to be about the outcome of the fight so much as the fact that there had been a fight.

“Are you okay?” she kept asking. “You know how badly you could have been hurt fighting with someone that size? What is it with you boys that you have to start fights?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “My hand’s a little sore from punching him, but I’m okay.”

She paused-they were crossing the street in front of the hotel now-and gave him the Smile. “Stevie, you were very brave to go after that bully,” she said. “You were also very stupid to stoop to his level.”

He started to respond but was just smart enough not to.

They went straight to Bobby and Tamara’s room to report what had happened. Kelleher was smiling when he opened the door. “So, you’re giving up journalism for boxing, I hear?” he said as he ushered the two of them into the room.