James Grippando - Blood Money

“Is Andie with you?”

“No. She went-”

Sydney stopped in midsentence, which alarmed Jack. “Sydney, answer me. She went where ?”

“She went chasing after Merselus,” said Sydney.

Jack’s heart sank. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“But I think I see her coming now,” said Sydney. “Yeah, that’s her. She’s-”

“See if she can come to the phone,” said Jack.

There was silence in Jack’s ear, but Jack could tell that the line was still active. A moment later he heard Andie’s voice.

“Jack?”

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Thank God. Anyone hurt?”

“One officer from Miami-Dade was shot, but I’m told he’ll make it. A poor old man who lived in the same apartment complex as Merselus was not so lucky.”

Jack took a moment to absorb the bad news. “What about Merselus?”

“One bullet to the heart. Dead.”

“Sniper?”

“Uh-uh,” said Andie, “no sniper.”

Jack could hear it in her voice, so he didn’t need to ask the follow-up. But after a deep breath that crackled over the line, she told him anyway.

“It was someone you love.”

BNN and the Faith Corso Show crammed a month’s worth of sensationalism into the next two days. The most surprising thing to Jack was how much of it they managed to get right. The least surprising-and most troubling-was what BNN refused to acknowledge: that the demise of Merselus and his Internet buddy Geoffrey Bennett was of no help to Celeste Laramore and her family.

Jack flew to New York to do something about that. Hannah went with him. The trip was in some ways deja vu, reminiscent of Jack’s disastrous settlement conference with BNN’s lawyers on the eve of filing Celeste’s lawsuit against BNN. This time, however, Jack brought Sydney Bennett along.

For five days, the media had been hounding Sydney and her lawyer. They all wanted the same thing: the exclusive interview that would finally reveal the truth about Emma’s death, and even better, expose the darkest secrets of the Bennett family. On Jack’s advice, Sydney refused to speak to any of the TV talk-show hosts, with one exception: Faith Corso.

“Thank you so much for coming,” said Corso.

They were in the main conference room on the thirty-third floor, just like Jack and Hannah’s previous meeting with BNN. This time, however, there were far fewer lawyers in the room-most notably, no Ted Gaines. Corso sat with hands folded atop the polished walnut conference table, her back to a floor-to-ceiling window and the panoramic view of Midtown. To her left was Kay Dollinger, the energetic producer of the Faith Corso Show . To Corso’s right was the gray-haired Stanley Mills, BNN’s general counsel and vice president of legal affairs. Jack sat directly across the table from Corso, flanked by Hannah and Sydney.

“What a pleasure it is to finally meet you,” said Jack. Hannah shot a quick glance in his direction, as if to see if his nose was growing.

“Let me tell you what we have in mind,” said Corso, quickly shifting from we to me . “I see this as a two-part interview. Part one will be live in the BNN studio, just Sydney and me. We’ll talk about her arrest, the trial, her release from prison, her short stay with Merselus, her escape from him and recapture, and then her rescue by the FBI. The live segment will end with her telling us where she was when her daughter drowned, how long she knew the truth about Mrs. Bennett’s role in Emma’s death, and why Sydney kept silent about it. We may bring in a psychiatrist at this point-an objective professional to talk about how common it is for children who are the victims of sexual abuse to refuse to name their abusers, how victims are silenced by their own sense of guilt and shame even after they reach adulthood, how this is especially true when the abuser is a parent, and doubly so when the mother is compliant in the abuse of a daughter.”

“No psychiatrists,” said Sydney.

Jack touched her arm, reminding her not to talk.

“The psychiatrist is optional,” said Corso. “Part two will be taped. We’ll visit the Bennett house, where Sydney can walk me through her life under the same roof with a monster like Geoffrey Bennett. We’ll go to the runway at Opa-locka Airport where Sydney met Merselus, the hotel where he attacked her, and the places where she went into hiding before he caught up with her at Bayfront Park. The final segment will be shot outdoors at the Bennett swimming pool.”

“No pool,” said Sydney.

Jack tugged her elbow, another reminder.

“The pool is not optional,” said Corso. “It’s the centerpiece of the story.”

“Here’s a possible solution,” said Jack. “No pool. Instead, we visit the exact spot outside the women’s detention center where Celeste Laramore was attacked.”

Corso made a face. “How is that a solution?”

“It gets us focused on the real story.”

The general counsel spoke up. “Excuse me, Mr. Swyteck. But we are not going to turn this television interview or this meeting into a showcase for your other client’s lawsuit against BNN.”

“I don’t see the two as separate,” said Jack.

“I don’t see the connection,” said Corso.

“The most basic connection is the cost.”

Corso narrowed her eyes. “The cost of what?”

“Of Sydney’s interview,” said Jack.

“We agreed to pay her a hundred thousand dollars,” said Corso.

“You offered a hundred thousand,” said Jack. “The cost is five million.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Payable to Celeste Laramore.”

The general counsel rose. “I don’t see much point in continuing this discussion.”

“You’re about to,” Jack said in his most serious tone.

“Faith, let’s go,” said the general counsel.

“Have a seat,” said Jack, “unless you have absolutely no interest in a two-minute explanation of why five million dollars is letting you off cheap. And by ‘you’ I mean your boss, Mr. Keating.”

Slowly, the general counsel lowered himself back into the chair. “Two minutes,” he said.

Jack focused his gaze mainly on Corso as he spoke. “Celeste Laramore was paid a thousand dollars to show up outside the women’s detention center looking like Sydney Bennett on the night of Sydney’s release.”

“That’s not news,” said Corso. “We were the ones who broke that story.”

“And you reported that it was Sydney’s defense team who paid her-to be a decoy for Sydney.”

“We stand by that story. We had a source.”

“A source? Really?” said Jack. “What’s interesting to me is that, so far, the only person to confirm that Celeste got paid to be outside the jail on the night of Sydney’s release was Celeste’s roommate. And I know she’s not your source, because I’ve talked to her.”

“I’m not required to divulge our source.”

“Agreed. But here’s my theory. Your ‘source’ is the person who paid Celeste the thousand dollars.”

“Like I said, I don’t reveal sources.”

“I guess that’s especially true when your source works for BNN,” said Jack.

“Excuse me?”

“Let me be more direct: Celeste was paid by BNN.”

The general counsel scoffed. “I’m losing patience for this.”

“Forget patience,” said Corso, shaking her head. “I’m insulted. But let’s put that aside for a second. Why on earth would BNN pay Celeste to be a Sydney Bennett look-alike?”

“Because the entire media world knew that Sydney’s release would be anticlimactic. The expectation was that Sydney would be whisked away in the dark, and a parking lot full of Shot Mom haters would be left with no one to spit on. Not very exciting television. That’s why no other network planned to cover her release the way yours did. But BNN had an angle. For a measly thousand bucks, you were able to give the crowd what it wanted, give the TV audience something to watch, and give the BNN reporters on the ground something to talk about besides an eighteen-year-old redneck in a John Deere cap who wanted to ask Sydney to marry him.”