Michael Connelly - The Poet

I nodded that I understood the dilemma and was silent a moment as I composed my reply. I looked from Backus to Walling and then back to Backus.

"My paper has already invested a lot of time and money," I said. "I've got the story down cold. Just so you understand, I could write a story tonight that says authorities are conducting a nationwide investigation into the likelihood that a serial killer of cops has been operating for as long as three years without detection."

"As I said, you've done very good work and nobody's arguing what kind of story this is."

"So then what are you proposing? I just kill it and walk away, wait for you to hold a press conference one day when, and if, you get this guy?"

Backus cleared his throat and leaned back. I glanced over at Walling but her face showed nothing.

"I won't sugarcoat it," Backus said. "But, yes, I want you to sit on the story for a little while."

"Until when? What's 'a little while'?"

Backus looked around the cafeteria as if he had never been there. He answered without looking at me.

"Until we get this person."

I whistled low.

"And what would I get for sitting on the story? What would the Rocky Mountain News get?"

"First and foremost, you'd be helping us catch your brother's killer. If that is not enough for you, I'm sure we could work out some sort of exclusivity agreement on the arrest of the suspect."

No one spoke for a long moment because it was clear the ball was in my court. I weighed my words carefully before finally leaning forward across the table and speaking.

"Well, Bob, as I think you know, this is one of those rare occasions when you guys don't hold all the cards and can't call all of the shots. This is my investigation, you see? I started it and I'm not just going to drop out. I'm not going to go back to Denver and sit behind my desk and wait for the phone to ring. I'm in and if you don't keep me in, then I go back to write the story. It will be in the paper Sunday morning. It's our best circulation day."

"You'd do that to your own brother?" Walling said, the words tight with anger. "Don't you give a shit?"

"Rachel, please," Backus said. "It's a good point. What we-"

"I give a shit," I said. "I was the only one who did. So don't try to lay any guilt on me. My brother stays dead whether you find this guy or not and whether I write the story or not."

"Okay, Jack, we're not questioning your motives here," Backus said, his hands raised in a calming gesture. "We seem to have gotten into an adversarial stance and I don't want that. Why don't you clearly tell me what you want. I'm sure we are going to work this out right here. Before the coffee even gets cold."

"It's simple," I said quickly. "Put me on the investigation. Complete access as an observer. I won't write a word until we either get the son of a bitch or give up."

"That's blackmail," Walling said.

"No, it's the agreement I'm offering to make," I responded. "It's actually a concession because I have the story now. Having to sit on it is against my instincts and against what I do."

I looked at Backus. Walling was angry but I knew it didn't matter. Backus would make the call.

"I don't think we can do that, Jack," he finally said. "It's against bureau regulations to bring somebody in like that. It could be dangerous to you as well."

"I don't care about that. Any of it. That's the deal. Take it or leave it. Call whoever you've got to call. But that's the deal."

Backus pulled his cup in front of him and looked down into the still steaming blackness. He hadn't even sipped it.

"This proposal is well above my level of authority," he said. "I'll have to get back to you."

"When?"

"I'll make the call right now."

"What about the status conference?"

"They can't start without me. Why don't both of you wait here. This shouldn't take long."

Backus stood up and carefully slid his chair into the table.

"Just so we're clear," I said before he turned away, "if allowed into this as an observer, with two exceptions I will not write about the case until we have an arrest or you determine it is fruitless and focus your primary efforts on other cases."

"What are the exceptions?" Backus asked.

"One is if you ask me to write about it. There may come a time that you'll want to flush this guy out with a story. I'll write it then. The other exception is if the story leaks. If this shows up in any other paper or on TV, all bets are off. Immediately. If I even get wind that somebody else is about to break it, I'll break it myself first. This is my goddamn story."

Backus looked at me and nodded.

"I won't be long."

After he left, Walling looked at me and quietly said, "If that had been me, I would have called your bluff."

"That was no bluff," I said. "That was for real."

"If that's true, that you'd trade catching the guy who killed your brother for a story, then that makes me feel very sad for you. I'm going to get more coffee."

She got up then and left me. As I watched her walk back to the concession counter my mind wandered over what she had said and then came to rest on the lines by Poe that I had read the night before and that would not leave my memory.

I dwelt alone In a world of moan And my soul was a stagnant tide

When I entered the conference room with Backus and Walling, there were few seats in the room without agents in them. The status meeting was set up with agents sitting around the long table and then an outside layer of sitters on chairs lining the walls. Backus pointed to a chair on the outer rim and signaled me to sit. He and Walling then went to the two remaining slots at the center of the table. The chairs had apparently been exclusively reserved for them. I felt a lot of eyes on me as the stranger but I reached down to the floor and fiddled with my computer satchel, acting like I was looking for something so I did not have to meet any of their stares.

Backus had taken the deal. Or rather, whoever he had called had taken the deal. I was along for the ride, with Agent Walling assigned to baby-sit-as she called it. I had written out and signed an agreement stating that I would not write about the investigation until its fruition or disbanding, or in the event of the occurrence of either of the exceptions I had mentioned earlier. I had asked Backus about a photographer joining me and he said that wasn't part of the deal. But he did agree to consider specific requests for photography. It was the best I could do for Glenn.

After Backus and Walling were settled in their seats and interest in me lagged, I looked about. There were a dozen other men and three women in the room, including Walling. Most of the men were in shirtsleeves and appeared to have been at whatever they were doing for a while. There were a lot of Styrofoam cups, a lot of paperwork on laps and on the table. A woman was making her way around the room handing out a sheaf of papers to each agent. I noticed one of the agents was the sharp-faced man I had encountered in Walling's office and then had seen again in the cafeteria. When Walling had gone to refill her coffee cup, I had seen him get up from his meal and go to the food counters to talk to her. I couldn't hear what was said but I could tell she had dismissed him and he didn't seem too happy about it.

"Okay, people," Backus said. "Let's get this going if we can. It's been a long day and they're probably only going to get longer from here."

The murmur of conversation abruptly halted. As smoothly as possible I reached down to my computer bag and slid out a notebook. I opened it to a fresh page and got ready to take notes.

"First of all, a short announcement," Backus said. "The new man you see seated against the wall is Jack McEvoy. He is a reporter from the Rocky Mountain News and he plans to be with us until this is over. It is his fine work that resulted in this task force being formed. He discovered our Poet. He has agreed not to write about our investigation until we have the offender in custody. I want all of you to extend him every courtesy. He has the special agent in charge's blessing to be here."