by R. G. Belsky
“Congratulations,” I said.
I wasn’t sure if that seemed inappropriate, given the circumstances under which she got the job. But it didn’t seem to bother her.
“I wanted to ask you a few questions about Vietnam,” I said.
“Why?”
“I found out that your husband had served in Vietnam back in the seventies.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You were born in Vietnam.”
“I still don’t understand what you’re driving at. I’ve got a lot of work to do and I don’t have time right now to talk about this with you. I’m sure you can understand that. So …”
“There’s something else. One of the people at the scene of the subway accident that killed your maid, Carmen Ortega, appeared to be Vietnamese too. Do you have any idea … ?”
“I’ve got to go now, Clare. Let’s talk some other time. Goodbye.”
She hung up on me.
“Goodbye, girlfriend,” I said into the empty line.
CHAPTER 36
“I WANT TO go to Los Angeles,” I said to Jack Faron the next day.
“What’s in Los Angeles?”
“Unanswered questions about Laurie Bateman and her past.”
I told him everything I’d learned over the past few days. Including the vague—but still intriguing—Vietnam connections to Hollister. I said I wanted to interview Laurie Bateman’s mother and track down other information about Laurie Bateman’s early life in Southern California after coming to the U.S. I said I believed it was all part of the Bateman story, even if I wasn’t exactly sure what the story was yet.
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have had much of a chance to pull off a cross-country road trip assignment like this. I was supposed to be the news director, which required me to be here to run the Channel 10 newscasts. Also, I didn’t have any hard leads or evidence about the Los Angeles angle—merely speculation on my part at the moment. Finally, and this might be the biggest obstacle, the Laurie Bateman story was over as far as most people were concerned. The charges against her had been dropped, and the rest of the media had moved on to other stories. Everyone but me.
But I knew I had some things going for me with Faron too. I’d landed a couple of big scoops for Channel 10 by following my instincts like this over the past few years, and Faron knew that—so he was willing to give me a lot more leeway than with another journalist. Plus maybe, just maybe, Jack Faron—who showed good news instincts of his own in the past—wanted answers to the questions about Laurie Bateman, too.
“While you’re in California, will you be talking to West Coast Media?” he asked.
That caught me off guard.
“Who?”
“Mitchell Lansburg?”
“Who?” I said again.
I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Please don’t say ‘who’ again.”
“Okay,” I said warily.
“Lansburg is the Vice President for talent at West Coast Media. I have a friend in Los Angeles. He told me how this Lansburg guy and West Coast Media were looking for a big new star to be part of a daytime talk show being broadcast from there. Apparently, they zeroed in on a choice they like for the job. A woman who’s broken a lot of big stories and had a stellar career as a journalist—in print; also now on TV. Said this woman even won a Pulitzer once. Are you negotiating for a job with West Coast Media, Clare?”
I had been trying to figure out the best way to bring it up with Faron. But I wasn’t planning on dealing with that right away. Except now it was out there.
“I had lunch with Lansburg,” I said.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I have lunch with a lot of people.”
“Did Lansburg offer you a job?”
“Not exactly.”
“But he made it clear they were interested in you?”
I nodded.
“Is that what you want to do, Clare? Leave New York and move to Los Angeles? Leave behind everything we’ve built, you and I, here at Channel 10 News? Being an on-air personality on a TV talk show instead of running a newsroom?”
“I’m not sure. I wanted to think about it. But then everything else happened with the Laurie Bateman story, and I haven’t had time to deal with it.”
“Remember, Clare, that I was the one who brought you here. After your newspaper went out of business and you were out of a job, I was the one who gave you the opportunity to be in TV journalism. And I was the one who took a chance and made you my news director.”
“Uh, is this the part where you make me feel guilty for all you’ve done for me so I’ll stay?”
He smiled. “I thought I’d give it a shot.”
I knew this was an uncomfortable subject for him. It was uncomfortable for me, too. I liked Jack Faron. Even more importantly, I respected him. That’s pretty rare in the TV news business to have a boss like that. I wondered if I’d find anyone like Jack Faron if I moved to LA.
“Look, I’m going to go out to talk to them about the job sooner or later. At least this way it will all be out in the open between us. I promise you that I won’t make any decisions about the talk show job before talking to you first. You know me well enough to know that, even though I do have some unscrupulous qualities, I always keep my word.”
In the end, Faron agreed to let me go.
I told everyone at the news meeting later what I was doing and said that Maggie would be in charge while I was out of town on this assignment.
I was pretty blunt with them about what I was hoping to find out there—evidence that linked Laurie Bateman to her husband’s murder again, even though I didn’t have the slightest idea what that evidence might be.
“Wait a minute,” Dani said when I was through. “Are you now saying you think Bateman really did murder her husband to make sure she got control of his money and his company?”
“I think it’s a possibility.”
“If that’s true, then we—well, mostly you—were the ones who helped her go free and beat the rap,” Dani pointed out. “Is that why you’re doing this? Because you think you might have messed up—and now you want to make it right?”
“That is a motivating factor,” I admitted.
Cassie O’Neal had a question.
“If she’s already had the murder charges against her dropped, she can’t be charged again even if we find out she did it, right? Isn’t that what they call ‘double jeopardy’? Like with O.J. Simpson. Even if he called a press conference today to confess he murdered Nicole Brown and Ron Goldman, he couldn’t be tried again for murder. Because he’s already been acquitted.”
Normally, I would have made fun of Cassie—at least behind her back—for not understanding how the law worked.
But I’d wondered about the “double jeopardy” thing myself at first.
Except, as I found out, “double jeopardy” only applied to an actual murder trial where the defendant was acquitted. Not a pre-trial hearing like with Laurie Bateman. She could still have murder charges reinstated against her if substantial new evidence against her was uncovered. I explained that to everyone in the news meeting now.
I also told them I was going to go on air for the 6:00 p.m. newscast to tell viewers about the latest Laurie Bateman story developments I knew—and that I would drop a few hints there, too, that there might be more explosive stuff coming soon.
Then I sat back and listened as everyone talked about the stories we’d be running on the newscast that night. An out-of-control taxicab that jumped the curb and hit a group of tourists in Times Square. A new political squabble between the mayor and the city council president. Speculation from weather forecaster Wendy Jeffers about the possibility of a white Christmas this year.
But I wasn’t listening that closely to any of it.
All I cared about right now was Laurie Bateman.
At least until I got back to my office after the newscast.
There was
a phone message waiting for me from Nick Pollock, the Treasury Department guy who looked like Brad Pitt.
I called him back right away.
“I saw your broadcast tonight,” Pollock said. “What you were talking about with Laurie Bateman and her taking over her dead husband’s position at Hollister’s businesses. I wondered if I could meet up with you to talk more about it?”
“Do you plan on picking me up off the street and bringing me to a government building to interrogate me like you did last time?”
“I was thinking about something less official. Are you free for a drink tonight?”
Was I free for a drink tonight? Hell, I had a lot to do. I had to make sure everything here was organized for the 11:00 p.m. newscast. Then I had to go home and start packing for my trip to California. Yep, my schedule was packed with all sorts of stuff I definitely needed to deal with.
“I’d love to have a drink with you,” I said.
CHAPTER 37
WE MET AT the Old Town, a historic bar on East 18th Street not far from Union Square. Pollock was sitting at the bar when I came in. As soon as he saw me, he grabbed his drink and moved to one of the booths along the side. I sat down across from him.
“What are you drinking?” he asked.
“How about you?”
“Beer.”
“Beer is good for me too.”
I decided I’d let him do the talking at first. Until I figured out where this was headed.
“That was an interesting newscast you did tonight about Laurie Bateman and the Charles Hollister murder. It sounds like you know—or at least you suspect—more than you’re telling at the moment. That’s why I wanted to talk with you.”
“Because you liked me so much on TV tonight?”
“Because I also know about you as an award-winning investigative reporter. I found out all about you. The Lucy Devlin kidnap case and everything that went along with that. The media sensation you became for breaking the story about that former Congressman, Bill Atwood, and all the people in the financial scandal a few years ago. Then last year the way you tracked down that serial killer who murdered so many women until you figured it out. You’re smart, you’re tough, and you’re dogged and determined.”
“Not to mention that I’m cute as a button too,” I said brightly.
He smiled.
“Anyway, I was thinking that maybe it was a good idea for you and me to keep in contact about this.”
Keep in contact? Him and me? I liked that kind of thinking.
“I know this is a bit tricky. Government and the media, it’s a slippery slope in terms of ethics.”
This wasn’t exactly what I was expecting, but I was interested. Damn interested.
I told him what I’d found out. My questions about the possible Vietnam connection. About my upcoming trip to California to check out more on Laurie Bateman’s background and family connections there. About Laurie’s sudden change in attitude toward me and refusal to answer my questions about her past. About how I’d been convinced in the beginning that she was innocent, but now I wasn’t sure.
He gave me more details about the tax investigation into the Hollister business activities and the search for possibly large amounts of missing funds.
“We think there are serious irregularities going on with the Hollister finances—involving hiding money and assets in secret accounts in the Caribbean and Switzerland—but we can’t prove it yet. We were just zeroing in on this full-time when Charles Hollister wound up getting murdered. Maybe it had to do with the financial stuff. Maybe someone killed him to shut him up so he couldn’t reveal anything he knew if it all blew up on them.”
“And the police know about this possible angle on Hollister’s murder?”
“Of course they do. We filled them in on everything. But they weren’t convinced. They believed Laurie Bateman murdered him in a rage that night. Now they’re looking at everything all over again, but I don’t think they’re close to cracking anything about the murder.”
We talked a lot more after that. It was good. I liked this guy. I’d had a few beers by that point and was starting to feel more relaxed after all the stress and effort of the long workday I’d put in. I decided to take our conversation in another direction.
“Tell me about yourself, Nick.”
“What do you want to know?”
“How long have you been working for the Treasury Department?”
“Over twenty years. I joined right after I got out of college with a business degree. I never thought back then I’d make a career out of a government job like this. But it’s good. I like it. It’s a nice life.”
“Do you live in the city?”
“Brooklyn. Got a two-bedroom apartment in Park Slope.”
“Nice.”
“Yeah, I got lucky. You know how it is with finding a good apartment in New York City these days.”
“Are you married?” I asked him, throwing that last question out there as casually as I could.
“Not yet.”
Uh-oh. I didn’t like that answer. It sounded like there was more to come. And I was right. There was.
“But you’re thinking about it?”
“A lot.”
“So you’re in a relationship?”
“Yes, I am. Neither of us have been ready for marriage until now. But we’re definitely thinking about it. Maybe next year. That’s what he and I are looking at right now.”
There was a word I’d just heard from him that hung out there now like a flashing red light between us.
“He?” I asked.
“My partner. His name’s Joe Trecker. He’s on the faculty at NYU. Teaches American History. Good guy. You’d like him.”
“So that means you’re …” I said slowly.
“Right. I’m gay. Does that shock you?”
“Uh, no … I mean I didn’t realize …”
“Nothing wrong with that, you know,” he laughed, uttering the famous Seinfeld line.
“No, of course not.”
“He’s gay?” Janet said to me when I called her afterward.
“Oh, he’s gay.”
“Jeez, how come you didn’t see that one coming?”
“Well, it’s not like he was wearing a sign around his neck.”
I told her how I planned to stay in touch with him on the Hollister stuff once I got back from California.
“I like him, Janet. He’s smart, funny, and totally dedicated to his job. We had a good talk together about everything tonight. He’s pretty much everything I would want if I drew up a design for the perfect man in my life.”
“Except he’s gay.”
“Well, there is that,” I said.
CHAPTER 38
THE TEMPERATURE WAS 75 degrees, the sun was shining brightly, and I was humming “California Dreamin’” when my plane landed in Los Angeles. It had been 22 degrees and sleeting when I left New York, and I slipped and fell on a patch of ice trying to hail a taxi on my way to the airport. I sure could get used to this Southern California weather if I did decide to move out here.
I rented a car at LAX, drove north up the I-405 Freeway, and headed toward LA. My hotel was in Beverly Hills, right off of trendy Rodeo Drive. In the end, Faron had chosen to go first class with my accommodations. But I wanted to play tourist for a while before I checked into the hotel.
So I went first to Hollywood and checked out famous spots there. Grauman’s Chinese Theater. The Wax Museum. The Capitol Records building. Eventually, I got to Hollywood and Vine, the legendary cross street in the middle of Hollywood.
The Hollywood Walk of Fame ran through much of this area—more than 2,500 stars on the sidewalk that memorialized the great Hollywood names over the years. Cary Grant, Jimmy Stewart, Audrey Hepburn, Charlie Chaplin, Marilyn Monroe, Bette Davis, John Wayne, Elizabeth Taylor, and so many others. I’d visited Los Angeles in the past, even been in Hollywood a few times, but this was the first time I was here knowing I could be a part of this whole g
lamorous town soon. It was a sobering thought.
There was even a star for Laurie Bateman on the walk. She hadn’t been as big in movies as a lot of the other big names, but she made it a few years ago because of her fame in TV advertising and the modeling world and for just being an A-List celebrity. Which counted for a lot in this town.
Standing next to Laurie Bateman’s star now, I could see the iconic Hollywood sign off in the distance, proclaiming to all that this was the capital of the entertainment world, a magical place where dreams could come true for anyone. Like Laurie Bateman. Her dream had sure come true.
Hell, she had probably stood on this same spot in the past and looked at that sign from her own star. Maybe thinking about how far she’d come from the little girl born to a family 6,000 miles away in war-torn Vietnam and everything that had happened to her since then. Yes, the American Dream came true for Laurie Bateman in Hollywood.
I drove back to Beverly Hills and ate lunch at a café where I sat outside at a table overlooking Beverly Drive, around the corner from my hotel.
As I watched the people on the street walking past dressed in short-sleeve shirts and shorts and casual clothes, I thought about how much different December and the holiday season looked in LA compared to New York City. Sure, there was no snow and the Christmas trees and other decorations that festooned the streets here looked out of place in this setting. But, all in all, the weather sure was a big plus when it came to deciding whether to move here or not.
I was trying to watch for celebrities, of course. Everyone told me you saw movie stars and other celebrities on the streets of LA all the time. That was pretty cool. Except I hadn’t found one yet. No Bradley Cooper. No Jennifer Lawrence. No Leonardo DiCaprio. I thought I might have seen Kurt Russell at one point. Or Jeff Bridges. The two of them always look sort of alike to me. Or maybe he was just some scruffy guy with long hair looking around for celebrities just like me.
I was excited to be here. Excited about the possibilities of the new job. And, most of all, excited about digging into Laurie Bateman’s past. While I ate, I went over everything I hoped to accomplish in the next few days.