Nancy Grace - Death on the D-List

At that precise moment, of course, Todd fired a question at Hailey. “Why pick a public alleyway for a murder, Hailey Dean?”

From her peripheral vision, Hailey could see her own face on the screen and responded without the benefit of any notes. “I find it highly unusual, Harry… highly unusual. Yes, it was a darkened alley; yes, apparently no one witnessed the crime so it was isolated to that extent, but the killer had to know the car… and the body of Cassie Lake… would be found in a matter of hours. It’s almost as if he wanted her to be found.”

So far, no one had mentioned the caliber of the bullet or the fact that the busboy told cops a dark-haired male was in the passenger seat of Cassie’s Mercedes around 8 p.m. Had those facts managed to remain known to the police only?

No. Todd then bounced from the reporter’s set-up to the busboy, who promptly blurted out there was a dark-haired man in Cassie’s car in the hours before her murder. Harry Todd didn’t dwell on the car’s passenger, apparently not digesting its import, but went straight on to ask the busboy to describe, in detail, what Cassie Lake looked like with half her face blown off.

Hailey winced. She prayed none of Cassie’s family was watching tonight. Billy Ryan, clearly coached by one of the show producers, gave a description of the dead body in graphic detail. Tony Russo must be dancing a jig in the control room right now.

The music geared up underneath the segment’s remaining conversation, and Todd looked into the camera conspiratorially and said, “When we come back, Cassie’s private, family priest is with us, a prime time exclusive!”

“Prime time exclusive? Is eleven p.m. considered prime time?” Hailey knew little about television scheduling, but was curious. It was the first question she asked into her lapel mike to Tony during the break.

“Don’t be so technical. It doesn’t matter and the viewers don’t know. You need to smile.”

“About Cassie Lake’s murder? Hey, pantyhose and lotion?” Hailey held up the receipts to the camera for Tony to see in the control room.

“It’s Sookie’s. I told you, I graduated journalism school so I could be Sookie’s errand boy. Makeup, pantyhose, aspirin, you name it… I’ll find it!” He said it jokingly, but Hailey knew the disappointment behind the words.

The conversation ended and Hailey could hear dead air again until the show’s theme music began playing about ninety seconds later.

Todd started the second segment of the hourlong show by engaging Cassie’s priest in a Q and A about the star’s divorce, her alcohol addiction, and her weight problems. The priest tried his best to answer diplomatically in light of the sensational nature of the questions Harry Todd was reading verbatim off his yellow cue cards. The priest wisely continued to steer the conversation back toward Cassie’s unwavering faith. Through her earpiece, Hailey could hear the control-room producers urging Todd on, trying their best to goad the priest into revealing more of Cassie’s troubles on national TV.

When the pastor wouldn’t budge, Todd turned to Hailey and asked her to compare Cassie Lake’s murder to the other murders. She gave a recitation of what had already been released to the public. She didn’t leave out a single fact, but carefully avoided citing anything she’d gleaned from police files. Hailey had a firm grasp of all the similarities, and the rest of the panel remained silent as she described the crime scenes, dates, times, and locations. She ended by pointing out the glaring difference, that the killer had struck three thousand miles away when he murdered Cassie Lake.

“Now,” she concluded, “the killer’s next step, and there will be a next step, can no longer be predicted.”

“Go to break, go to break!” She heard Tony Russo yelling it in her earpiece and the music played over more footage of Todd’s last interview with Cassie.

“Man, you know how to give a sound bite! You’re a star!” Tony blared it in her ear as soon as they were in commercial break.

His words struck her cold. She was hoping to reveal the horrible truth about violent crime, not let the perfumed, airbrushed edition be the facts of record. But to the others, it was all just sound bites and video. Hailey glanced at the red numbers on the camera’s digital clock. There were only a few minutes left in the show, two of which were a commercial and one, Todd droning on in a monologue at the end.

In the last segment, Todd went to a phoner, a high school friend of Cassie’s who hadn’t seen her in twenty years. She was absolutely irrelevant, but was apparently the best “friend” the show could dig up. The woman gave a few recollections of Cassie in high school and Harry started his monologue about the life of Cassie Lake. The show producers wisely cut him short and ended the show with a video package of Cassie set to sad, emotional music in the background.

Hailey heard the countdown in her ear, “… four, three, two, one, and… we’re out! Thank you, everyone. Great show!”

A COMMERCIAL FOR AN ALLERGY MEDICATION CAME ON IMMEDIATELY AFTER the Cassie video. The show was over. Hailey stood to unhook her lapel mike and take out the earpiece in her ear. Before she could get herself detangled from the set, the studio door opened, streaming light in from the hall. It was Tony, of course.

Instead of being thrilled about the night’s live show, he was already obsessed about what ratings number it would likely bring in.

“The problem is that we’re in the middle of NFL Playoffs.” He looked peeved.

“Why is a football game a problem?” She’d unhooked herself, run the lapel mike down her blouse, and left it there on the table. The two headed down the wide hall toward the cluster of offices and cubicles that comprised the staff digs for The Harry Todd Show .

Tony looked at her as if she’d sprouted horns and a tail. “It’s not just a football game. It’s the NFL Playoffs, and it’s going against us head-to-head tonight.”

“People are still playing football this late at night?”

“Yes. And more important, people are still up watching football this late at night!” They rounded a bend in the hall and arrived at Tony’s windowed office. Hailey noticed the view outside was even bleaker at night but didn’t comment on it, remembering how thrilled and not just a little self-satisfied he was at graduating from a cubicle.

“Sookie’s late… as usual. She’s supposed to meet us right here after the show. Want to go with us out for drinks?” Standing behind his desk, Tony checked his BlackBerry and cell phones for word from his boss and then logged onto his computer, not taking the time to sit down in his chair.

“Drinks? You’re kidding. At this hour? What are you people… vampires?”

“We are not vampires. We’re just thirsty.”

“No, thanks. I have to go to work in the morning! You TV people have it made. What are you looking up online?”

“I’m not really online, I’m looking for Sookie.”

“How can you do that? What… Did she have a GPS chip installed in her tooth?” Hailey sank down into one of the two chairs across from the office’s desk.

“Ha. No. But I wish she did, good idea. We can never round her up when there’s work to do. Fashion Week was the worst. She was AWOL for twenty-one consecutive days.”

“So how do you find her online?”

“I told you, I’m not exactly online. Sookie’s taught me a lot, like how to locate people within the building. You have to know their security card swipe number. Then you can find the last place they swiped in. Let’s see, this places her, last swipe anyway, at Noel Fryer’s office. So he finally showed up. She’s probably down there sucking up.”