“It’s not that simple,” Jan pleaded. “McCarthy has representation. He’s with XPR.”
Richard raised his eyebrows at the surprising news that Dan McCarthy had secured such powerful representation.
He certainly recognised the irony in the situation given that XPR’s founder had been the first to uncover Blitz Media’s penchant for underhand and illegal surveillance and harassment campaigns, one of which had targeted Richard. When XPR broke the news to Richard and a handful of Blitz Media’s other targets, those targets quickly reached lucrative settlements with Jan Gellar and her employers. This revelation about McCarthy was the first Richard had heard of XPR in a while.
“You’re already going after him, anyway,” he said, setting aside the XPR news to which he had no stock reply.
The increasingly desperate voice at the other end of the line then tried to explain to Richard that their coverage and methods so far had been within certain roughly defined conventional boundaries and that an unprovoked escalation would likely elicit a devastating response from XPR.
“I don’t care,” came Richard’s dispassionate reply. “This isn’t a negotiation. If you’re worried that XPR might put you in the shit if you do this, let me make it clear that I will put you in the shit if you don’t. No might. Will. Don’t forget: I have the proof, too.”
“We made a deal,” Jan said, trying to keep her cool as the situation spiralled beyond her control.
“And I’m making a new one.”
After a few seconds, Jan sighed audibly. There was no guarantee that McCarthy and XPR would find out about what Richard was asking her to do, so doing it was unquestionably less risky than calling the bluff of a man who quite simply didn’t bluff. “Fine. You win. So what exactly are we talking?”
Richard winked victoriously at Ben. “Give it all you’ve got,” he ordered.
With no other options, Jan Gellar committed to the role she had been forced into. “McCarthy and his rep are going to Cheyenne today, for a Billy Kendrick show,” she said. “It’s an unannounced appearance. We picked that up at Kendrick’s end.”
“Perfect. Even if it means you won’t get anything useful until tomorrow, at least it’s an easy opening.”
“We’ll get right to it.”
“Good,” Richard said. “Go nuclear.”
D minus 64
McCarthy Residence
Birchwood, Colorado
“The home security people are running late,” Emma said when she arrived on Dan’s doorstep at the unusually reasonable time of 9:35. It was the first weekday morning since Dan’s leak, and she had already dealt with a lot of necessary but tedious admin.
“How late?” Dan asked.
“Too late. And We have to leave at 10:30, so I doubt they’ll be finished before we go. I can’t even get through to them on the phone.”
Dan opened the door fully and invited her inside. “Do you want some fancy lemonade while we wait?” he asked.
Emma’s frustrated expression faded. “Why not.”
“I got a food delivery twenty minutes ago,” Dan said on his way to the kitchen, “and it’s a whole week’s worth, even though Clark is coming home tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” Emma echoed.
“Yeah. He managed to switch some things around and book a flight.”
“What time does he get in?”
Dan returned to the living room and handed Emma her bottle. “Late,” he said. “Why?”
“The firm have secured the live show I was telling you about, and we’re filming it here. Well, in the city. Your brother could have, uh, come along if he was home,” she said.
“He won’t be,” Dan replied, not sounding too disappointed; it was bad enough that he hadn’t told Clark about the Kendrick gig, never mind a live TV appearance. “What kind of show is it, anyway?”
“A lighter one. The firm think it’s time to get your face in front of a broader audience. We should focus on today, though. I spoke to Billy Kendrick’s people, and he’s happy to have you onstage for as long as you want to be there. Two minutes or two hours, it’s our call.”
“What would I be doing onstage?”
Emma shrugged. “Probably just standing there while Billy uses you to sell his books, but at least he’s 100% on your side so nothing can really go wrong.”
Dan finished his lemonade and carried the glass bottle to the kitchen. “Where’s your computer?” she asked. “I want to check something.”
“I’ll bring it to the couch,” Dan said; he didn’t like anyone going in his room, even Clark.
“I need you to show me every article you’ve ever submitted,” Emma said when Dan returned with the laptop. “I need to know what’s out there, in case Blitz do what they did with those things you wrote in school.”
Dan navigated to a folder and explained that he had only ever submitted a few articles he was confident of selling, wary of getting a reputation for wasting editors’ time. There were four articles in the folder. One, titled Lake Vostok, was the article Richard Walker had referenced in his initial response to the leak. Emma had read this article a few hours before meeting Dan and knew it was the source of his treasured $85 cheque.
The next two articles focused on the relatively uncontroversial but interesting topics of super-volcanoes and cryogenics. Emma then spotted the title of the final article, which piqued her interest. “What’s Space vs War?” she asked.
“Not as cool as it sounds,” Dan said. He opened the file, explaining to Emma as he scrolled that it was a numbers-heavy comparison of the cost of space exploration and military equipment.
Satisfied that there was nothing harmful in any of that, Emma asked to see what else Dan had written but not submitted. Within seconds, a folder of 63 files met her eyes.
“They’re not all finished,” Dan said.
This time, the first two titles Emma saw were Atlantis, Lemuria, Mu: Fact vs Fiction and The Conspiracy Theory Conspiracy. She immediately pushed Dan’s hands out of the way and disconnected his computer from the internet.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Plugging the leak before it gets out,” Emma said. “From now on, nothing with any of your files on it goes online, okay? I’ll get you a new tablet for the internet.”
Dan didn’t say anything. Emma’s thoroughness always impressed him, and the promise of a new tablet to replace his geriatric laptop sounded good. He closed the computer and carried it back to his room. When he got back, Emma was looking at something on her phone.
“No one is talking about aliens today,” she said. “It’s 80% politicians and 20% you.”
Dan took Emma’s phone from her outstretched hand and looked at the cartoon on the screen. Like many other British political cartoons it featured the Coledog, an already famous caricature of John Cole as a fat bulldog with a Union Jack bow-tie. As usual, the Coledog was foaming at the mouth. But in this topical sketch, a monocle-wearing William Godfrey sat atop the Coledog, desperately trying to keep hold of the reins.
The country-sized Coledog stood on a map of the world, straining angrily to cross the Atlantic and attack President Slater, who was caricatured as the Statue of Liberty. There was a lot going on in the small drawing, which was the first original Coledog cartoon to debut in an American newspaper, but none of it forwarded Dan’s goal. He handed the phone back to Emma.
“This is why the firm set up the live show for tomorrow night,” Emma said. “We need people to start drawing and writing about you.”
“Do you know who’s hosting it yet?”
“Marco Magnifico,” Emma said, answering in the most neutral tone she could manage.
Dan chortled involuntarily, then realised that Emma wasn’t joking. “What station is it on?” he asked after a few disbelieving seconds.
“Not a Blitz one,” Emma said, delighted and only slightly surprised that this was Dan’s first concern.
Prior to learning that he didn’t appear on a Blitz station, Dan knew
precisely two things about Marco Magnifico: he was a stage hypnotist, and he was an asshole.
“You can say no to this,” Emma continued, reading Dan’s conflicted expression. “I told the firm you might say no.”
“He’s the guy who makes celebrities eat dog food, right?” Dan asked. He had once seen a few minutes of a Marco Magnifico show when Clark was watching it, and the dog food was all he could remember. Other than that, the only reference he had was Clark’s description of an appearance on Marco’s show as the last resort of fading D-listers who were “too old or too ugly to go the usual sex-tape route.”
Emma hesitated. “From what I’ve heard, he can’t make them do anything they aren’t willing to do. But trust me, he won’t pull any of that stuff on you. I’ll be right there, and he’ll know that. This is a special one-off live interview, not his usual clown show. That’s why he’s coming to Colorado Springs to film it. The selling point is that people want to see if you can stick to your story when you’re, you know, out of it.”
“It’s not a story,” Dan said, instinctively defensive.
Emma didn’t respond directly. “How would you feel about truth serum?”
“Why not just skip the foreplay and waterboard me?” Dan retorted.
“It wasn’t my idea,” Emma said, literally holding her hands up. “I don’t even know if it works, the network just wanted it as part of the show. Will you do the hypnotism without it, though?”
“I’ll do it if Walker does it. That’s fair.”
“The burden of proof is on you. I’m not saying it’s fair, but he is Richard Walker. You’re just Dan McCarthy, some guy who says aliens are real.”
“Okay,” Dan said. “I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure? It’s live.”
“If this is what it takes.”
“So you’re sure that you’re sure? Because they’re going to start advertising the hell out of this show as soon as I green-light it.”
“Emma… take yes for an answer.”
Emma smiled broadly then quickly regained her composure. “Okay. Just one thing: I need you to swear that you don’t have that schizotypal personality thing, because the stuff I read said that you might be too susceptible to hypnosis if you have it.”
“I don’t have it,” Dan said, trying not to sound tired of repeating that fact. “I do solemnly swear.”
“Perfect.” Emma took her phone from her pocket and texted out the good news.
“Is he even a real hypnotist, anyway?” Dan asked. “My dad used to say the celebrities were just acting, but me and Clark didn’t think anyone would be desperate enough to choose to eat dog food on TV.”
“He’s legit. I know people who have repped clients on his show, and none of it was fake. He used to be a clinical hypnotist; pretty well known and respected in his field, I think. Now his peers see him as a joke because he switched over to entertainment and decided to use his skills to make as much money as he could. He’s basically the Billy Kendrick of hypnosis,” Emma said, smiling to herself.
“Billy’s nothing like that,” Dan said. “You’ll see.”
Emma looked at the time. They only had five minutes before they had to set off, and the home security people still hadn’t answered any of her calls. She tried once more and finally got through.
Dan watched quietly as Emma switched into a gear he hadn’t seen before, verbally mauling whoever was on the other end of the line. She made absolutely clear that the work had to be finished before they returned from the Kendrick show, no ifs and no buts. “I don’t want my client to notice that it’s done,” she said, “and I don’t want anyone to notice you doing it. Is that clear?”
After a few minutes of testy back and forth, Emma hung up and turned to Dan.
“We need to leave them a key to get in,” she explained, “so we need to take the folder with us. Obviously they know better than to do anything stupid, but we can’t take any kind of chance.”
“No way,” Dan said. “I’m not taking it on the road. I’ll leave it with Mr Byrd.”
“Is he home?”
“Probably.”
“Could you get him to stay here while they fit the equipment?”
Dan nodded; he knew that Mr Byrd meant it when he often said he would do anything to help. Dan ran across the street and filled Mr Byrd in on the situation. As expected, Mr Byrd said he would be over in a few minutes.
Emma called the security company to tell them about the new plan, which was better for them, too, since it ruled out any potential suggestions of impropriety.
“When does the car get here?” Dan asked when she was off the phone.
“The firm wouldn’t give us a car for this,” Emma said. “I meant to say that earlier.”
“Why not?”
“They didn’t think Kendrick was worth it. Their words. I had to talk them into letting you do it at all because I know how highly you think of him, and I know how highly he thinks of you. I probably could have lobbied for the car, but I didn’t think you’d agree to do Marco so I didn’t want to pick this battle.”
“Can you drive?” Dan asked.
“You mean legally, or…?”
Dan looked at her blankly.
“Lighten up, I’m joking! You drive there, I’ll drive back. Deal?”
“Other way round,” Dan said.
“Fine by me,” Emma agreed.
Dan tossed her the keys just as Mr Byrd entered the house. “Could you keep an eye on the installers when they’re in my room?” Dan asked him. “I don’t want them nosing around.”
“Of course, son.”
“And don’t let them in my dad’s room.”
Emma interjected. “Dan, they need to put cameras everywh—”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Dan said in an uncharacteristically blunt tone.
Without replying, Emma walked out to the car.
“Don’t worry,” Mr Byrd said reassuringly. “I won’t let them near it.”
D minus 63
Beanstox Bowl
Cheyenne, Wyoming
Dan and Emma pulled up outside the Beanstox Bowl arena several hours ahead of Billy Kendrick’s sold-out show. As they entered the theatre’s backstage area, where Billy was already talking to sound engineers and lighting technicians, everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to see the man of the moment.
Everyone, that was, apart from Billy Kendrick.
A confused expression crossed Billy’s face when he saw them arrive, his eyes focusing only on Emma. “How did this happen?” he asked, eventually looking at Dan.
“We approached him,” Emma said.
Billy tipped his head slightly in a “that make sense” kind of way. He then extended his hand to Dan. “Good to finally meet you,” he said warmly. “That was a solid showing on Focus 20/20. And trust me, five hostile faces on a panel is a lot tougher to deal with than 3,000 friendly faces in a theatre.”
Dan mumbled his thanks, even more star-struck in the presence of a man he had admired for years than he had been when talking to the world-famous actress Kaitlyn Judd less than 24 hours earlier.
Billy then personally showed Dan and Emma to a private room where they could settle in. He said he would come back in an hour to talk Dan through what he could expect during the show.
“Why don’t you show Dan the stage now?” Emma suggested, addressing Billy in a friendlier tone than she typically used but still making clear that it wasn’t a suggestion. She then looked to Dan. “I have to make a few calls, anyway.”
Dan knew that Emma only threw in the “anyway” to make it sound like it wasn’t a direct order, but he didn’t object to looking around the theatre. He gladly set off with Billy, who didn’t seem to mind, either.
Despite its tacky corporate name, the Beanstox Bowl was an iconic building with a rich history. As Billy led Dan through its corridors towards the stage entrance, they passed countless old posters and props framed on the walls. Billy, already dressed to perform in his u
nassuming grey-suit-white-shirt combo, made small talk as they walked. Dan, for his part, wore one of the fashionable outfits from his first interview at the Sizzle & Spark Salon, handpicked for this event by Emma.
Right before the stage, they passed an impressively well preserved fragment of the 120-year-old theatre’s original burgundy curtain.
In support of what Emma had been saying since Friday night, Billy shared his feeling that momentum was crucial. “24-hour news is nothing if not fickle,” he said, “so you need to keep striking while this iron’s hot.”
Dan had listened to Billy Kendrick talk for countless hours on his radio show and podcast, but that had always been one-way. Face to face with Billy, Dan found himself stuck in listening mode. “Yeah,” was all he managed to mutter in response.
“How are you holding up to all of this, anyway?” Billy asked, changing track. “Last week you were working in a bookstore, right? Now you’re talking to Marian de Clerk and Marco Magnifico; Slater and Godfrey are namedropping you; you’re showing up here with Emma Ford…”
Dan couldn’t help but notice that Billy put more emphasis on Emma’s name than those of people far more famous and powerful. Combined with the fact that Billy had seemed more interested in Emma than Dan when they first arrived, this made Dan curious enough to successfully articulate a semi-coherent thought: “How do you know her, anyway? Emma, I mean.”
“I’ve had some, uh, dealings with her and her firm,” Billy said. “She didn’t tell you?”
Dan didn’t commit to an answer.
Billy continued nonetheless. “I was caught up in the whole Blitz Media and XPR thing. Well, I wasn’t caught up in it; I was one of Blitz Media’s targets. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
“She mentioned something about her boss digging up evidence of Blitz illegally harassing people, and that one of them was her client.”
“That’s right; I heard about what Blitz were doing from the higher-ups at XPR. They pretty much told me that they had the evidence against Blitz and could secure me some compensation if I flew to New York and signed a contract that gave them a cut. I couldn’t pursue the case against Blitz myself because I didn’t have any of the evidence, so XPR offered me a take-it-or-leave-it deal.”
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