Thursday, September 5, 2002
Alex Vane rolled out of an unfamiliar bed, naked and confused, his head pulsing in a steady rhythm interrupted only by one thought: Where the hell am I? He rubbed at a pain in his shoulder, turning his head to look. Bite marks. He glanced around the room and saw a rolled-up yoga mat leaning against the wall. An empty sake bottle sat on top of it.
"Oh, right," he said under his breath.
He stared at the long, slender body in the bed. The woman lay on her stomach, her straight black hair glistening on her pale back. He felt vaguely guilty but told himself it was nothing as he crept out of her bedroom.
He rummaged through her kitchen looking for coffee, but found only tea. None of it was caffeinated. "What kind of girl was I with last night?" he mumbled.
He found an envelope on the kitchen table and scrawled a note:
Greta-
Had a great time. Had to get to work. Call me sometime.
-Alex
He didn’t leave his number.
He returned to the bedroom, pulled on his jeans and polo shirt, then grabbed his laptop bag and walked out into the cold, sunny morning. He stopped on the steps of the brownstone, his head pounding as the light hit his eyes. He was on Tenth Street in the West Village, and as the night came back to him in flashes, he wondered why he felt guilty. He walked in place and stretched his legs. She seemed to have had a good time, he told himself. He’d done nothing wrong. So why did he feel like he had?
He dropped and did thirty push-ups on the porch of the brownstone. The cold, gritty stone felt good under his large hands. From the push-ups, he moved into downward dog, held it for ten seconds, then sprang up. He shook out his arms and legs and did a few circles with his head.
He felt a bit better and knew that a hit of caffeine would bring him all the way back to himself. At the cart on the corner, he bought a cup of coffee and a copy of The New York Standard. He leaned against a ginkgo tree and scanned the front page.
"Damn," he said to himself. They had trimmed his story by half, but at least it was above the fold.
Trial of Student Killer Begins Today
By Alex Vane
Opening remarks are expected today at the New York County Criminal Court in the murder trial of Eric Santiago, the NYU student accused of murdering Professor John Martin in Washington Square Park on New Year’s Eve, 2001.
Santiago, a 19-year-old biology major, has pled not guilty.
Prosecutors are expected to argue that Santiago encountered Martin at approximately 1 a.m. on January 1, 2002 and administered a lethal dose of fentanyl, a synthetic narcotic.
It remains unclear what motive prosecutors will claim, but sources describe Santiago as "sick" and "cold-blooded." One officer familiar with the case said, "Motive? What motive? Sickos like Santiago don’t need a motive."
Martin’s murder, and the revelation that police were investigating a student, gripped New York City earlier this year, but the trial has been delayed with jury selection and motions for over six months.
Alex finished the coffee and stepped back over to the cart to buy an egg sandwich. He threw the roll in the trash and then leaned back against the tree, chewing the egg as he read another story.
Nation Corp. Acquisition of Standard Media Clears Hurdle
September 5, 2002
The proposed merger between Nation Corp. and Standard Media cleared one of its final hurdles Wednesday when federal antitrust regulators concluded their three-month review and gave the deal the green light.
The merger would combine Nation Corp., the top Internet service and cable provider, with Standard Media, the world’s largest media conglomerate. The combined company—Standard Media/Nation Corp.—will hold dominant positions in many industries, including music, publishing, news, entertainment, cable TV, and high-speed Internet.
"Together, they represent an unprecedented powerhouse in media," said Bill Dickens, an analyst with Morris Investments. "The best content will now have the best distribution. This deal is a game changer."
But media critics oppose the deal. According to Sadie Green, executive director of the Media Protection Organization, "If allowed, this deal will create the most powerful company in the world. A company that will put hundreds of small papers out of business and will, eventually, use its power to strangle open access to the Internet. It will make an already gutless media way, way worse."
According to industry sources, Standard Media CEO Denver Bice is expected to lead the new company after the merger. Formal approval of the deal from the FCC is expected next month.
Alex dropped the paper on a bench and tilted his head back to stare at the yellow leaves above him.
"Hello," he said to himself. "I’m Alex Vane. Court reporter with Standard Media slash Nation Corp." He looked down at the paper. "Damn."
He flipped open his cell phone to check the time, then hailed a taxi heading south on Seventh Avenue.
Chapter Two—Preview of The Anonymous Source
The taxi stopped behind a CNN van in front of the downtown courthouse, a twenty-story, marble-faced tower. It looked to Alex like a bland office building, nothing like the stately southern courthouses he had come to expect from reading John Grisham as a teen. When he’d decided to become a reporter, Alex had chosen the courts with an expectation of exciting cases and dramatic courtroom scenes, a fantasy—he realized quickly—that had little to do with the day-to-day grind of the law. He had been covering the court for a year and rarely got a story beyond the metro section. But now TV trucks, out-of-state reporters, and curious citizens surrounded the building. The Santiago trial would land him on the front page for weeks.
He scanned the faces of the reporters but avoided eye contact as he made his way through the throng and up the steps. The courthouse furnishings were outdated and its halls smelled of cleaning supplies and wet cement. As he stopped at the security desk, Alex said, "Hey, Bearon," and flashed an ID.
Bearon Decoteau, wearing a dark blue uniform and courthouse badge, smiled as he held out a clipboard and said, "Name and address."
"You think I don’t know the routine by now?" Alex shook his head as he took the clipboard.
"Bosses make me say it." Bearon pulled back his long, black ponytail and studied Alex. "You look terrible, man. I mean, for a pretty boy like you. You look like one of the Backstreet Boys the morning his agent checks him into rehab. How’d it work out with Greta?"
Alex scribbled on the visitor sheet. "We had a good time. How’d it go for you last night?"
"Let’s just say I could use a little of that Alex Vane charm. City girls don’t seem to appreciate gorgeous Native men from the Pacific Northwest."
Alex laughed. "Not like back home, huh?" He rubbed his eyes and patted down his dark brown hair. "Any good gossip for me today?"
Bearon leaned in. "Looks like Sharp is gonna take the lead on the Santiago prosecution, along with Davis and Morganthal."
Alex handed the clipboard back. "Then Santiago’s even more screwed than we thought. Sharp is good. I heard he might challenge Bloomberg for mayor in a couple years."
"Everybody knows that. His people are already leaking his slogan: ‘At Last, a Democrat Who’s Sharp On Crime.’ You heard from WNYW?"
"Not yet."
"You’re a shoo-in, though, right?" Bearon switched to an exaggerated news anchor voice. "This just in: young, handsome, arrogant newsman Alex Vane to become New York’s next big TV reporter."
Alex smiled and turned down the long marble corridor. "I hope so," he said under his breath.
Across the hall from Courtroom Four, Alex sat on a wooden bench and leaned his head against the wall. Court wouldn’t start for ten minutes and he was half asleep when he heard his ringtone—a tinny, Muzak version of Nirvana’s In Bloom. When he pulled the phone out of his bag, he saw that the caller ID read 000-0000. He sighed, tired of telemarketers, but answered anyway. "Hello. I’d like to purchase ten of whatever you’re selling."
He heard
quiet, steady breathing on the line.
"Alex Vane?" The voice was distorted, deep and metallic.
Alex realized it was being run through a voice scrambler. He looked around instinctively and ran a hand through his hair. "This is Alex. Who’s this?"
"The one who knows."
Alex got calls from sources almost every day, some reliable and some crazy. He decided this was one of the crazy ones. "Knows what?" he asked.
The voice spoke slowly. "Knows who killed Professor John Martin. You are covering the trial for The Standard, right?"
"I am. Again, may I ask who this is?"
"The one who knows."
Alex paced the hallway. "Oh right, you told me already."
"Eric Santiago did not kill Professor Martin. I could get in a lot of trouble for telling you this."
"Then why are you telling me?" Alex asked.
Silence.
"Hello?"
"Are you familiar with John 12:25?"
Alex smiled. "Let’s assume I’m not."
"‘He who hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal.’"
Alex chuckled nervously. "That’s why you’re calling me?" He waited. "Hello?"
The line was dead.
* * *
You can find the rest of The Anonymous Source here. It’s available as an ebook and a paperback.
I’m also happy to announce that the sequel to The Anonymous Source will be released on April 23, 2017. It’s called The Inverted Pyramid and, if you’re enjoying this series, you can find it here.
About the Author
A.C. Fuller writes media thrillers and literary fiction. He’s the creator and host of the WRITER 2.0 Podcast, a weekly interview show featuring award-winning writers and publishing experts.
He was once a freelance journalist in New York and taught in the NYU Journalism School from 2006 to 2008. He now teaches English at Northwest Indian College near Seattle and leads writing workshops around the country and internationally, including classes for the Pacific Northwest Writers Association, the Write in the Harbor Conference, and the Royal City Literary Arts Society.
He lives with his wife, two children, and two dogs near Seattle.
And he loves hearing from readers.
@acfullerauthor
acfullerauthor
www.acfuller.com
[email protected]
The Cutline (An Alex Vane Media Thriller, Book 0) Page 10