The Day Steam Died

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The Day Steam Died Page 13

by Brown, Dick


  After her abortion, Candi dropped out of school for a semester and drowned herself in alcohol and drugs. She prowled bars to get picked up for sex. Days and nights ran together. She lost track of time for weeks. When she woke up naked in a sleazy hotel near campus with no memory of how she got there or who she was with, she realized things needed to change.

  Candi staggered to the bathroom and propped herself up in front of a cracked mirror with streaks of reflective silver backing peeled off. She didn’t recognize the person staring back at her through puffy, bloodshot eyes with black circles beneath; it shocked her sober. She took control of her life and moved past her parents’ death and repeated rapes by her therapist.

  Candi attacked her classes with vengeance when she returned to school. The result was recognition as the best photographer to graduate from Art Institute of New York in decades.

  The day after she graduated with honors, she tossed her suitcase and cameras into the back seat of her new BMW convertible. After a tearful farewell with roommate Phyllis, she turned South onto I-95 to start a new life with the remainder of her inheritance and insurance settlement.

  Chapter 23

  “For more than fifty years, their efforts have touched and influenced everyone who lived a productive and fruitful life here.”

  Taking charge

  Tank was sworn in the General Assembly on January 20th, 1964. With Deano as his personal advisor, Tank had already connected with members of the Assembly who would be helpful to his agenda of putting down any attempt to raise the cigarette tax or change any laws banning smoking anywhere.

  He had things well under control inside the walls of the Assembly building.

  Rick’s award winning series of articles about the cover up of addictive cancer-causing nicotine in cigarettes was an early challenge facing Tank in his first session. Cover-up hearings of two leading tobacco companies by the federal government already had several General Assembly members rethinking their position on tobacco. Federal government threats to print health hazard warnings against smoking on each cigarette pack added to the damage control Tank had to do to protect Sam’s business.

  Historically, North Carolina was one of the heaviest smoking states in the country. No surprise since it was the world’s leading tobacco and cigarette producer. On the horizon, however, was a growing grassroots organization called STOP whose goal was to prohibit smoking in all public buildings, government buildings, hospitals, and restaurants. Their first target was to attack the capitol city and to eliminate smoking in all government offices and buildings.

  That would be a tough sell to a majority of assembly members who smoked or were involved in the tobacco industry in one way or the other. Not taking any chances, Tank organized a majority of members on select committees—members he could call on to bury any legislation in committee he didn’t want to come to the floor for a vote.

  Deano had done his homework, and Tank was following the script perfectly before the first session had even started.

  Opening of General Assembly

  “We invoke the powers of Almighty God to guide this body of lawmakers, that they may govern over this great state in a manner pleasing to Thee and beneficial to the citizens who place their trust in You and those elected to serve. Amen.”

  Despite Mary Madalyn O’hair’s efforts by the Civil Liberties Union, a guest chaplain opened each new session of the Legislature. The secretary read the role-call and turned the platform over to the Speaker of the House, Herman Walters. The session faced a tough slate of legislation dealing with taxes, tobacco issues, more funding for prisons and healthcare, and highway construction vital to the state’s economic progress. A strong floor fight on the new budget was expected to push the session beyond the August closing date.

  Speaker Walters, small in stature but the most powerful man in the General Assembly, stepped to the podium. He pounded the gavel and called the General Assembly to order.

  “Gentlemen, we face a difficult task in meeting the needs of our state and doing so in a fiscally responsible manner. I charge you to work diligently toward that end. For you new members, idealism is a powerful motivator. I welcome you and commend you for the hard work and sacrifices you have made to get here. However, I advise you to seek the council of your senior members as you learn the workings and duties you have sworn to fulfill. Committee assignments have been made. You are dismissed to discharge your sworn duties.”

  The gavel sounded again, ending the first morning of the new session.

  A warm spring breeze whipped through the trees surrounding Tank’s high-rise condo. A view of the General Assembly building through a floor to ceiling glass wall included a panoramic setting of the city. Filled with modern furniture of Tank’s choosing, it was the ultimate bachelor pad. Immaculately landscaped grounds surrounded a Caribbean style swimming pool complete with deluxe salon and beautiful masseuse. And if he had the time, a world class golf course was at his disposal.

  Sam took in the view with his hands clasped behind his back. Tank approached with a glass of scotch in each hand.

  “Well, Pop, what do you think of the new pad? You should have brought Mom. She would probably have the whole thing redecorated in Queen Ann style. It will be great for hosting big parties for my supporters. And at Christmas this place will look like Disney Land.”

  “It’s nice,” Sam said, his jaw clamped tight on his cigar. He removed it both to take a glass from Tank and to speak more clearly. “But if you want to stay here and stick to the plan, you had better get serious. You made a lot of promises to get here and those people that voted for you are expecting you to deliver. I hope you don’t live to regret paying for all those case studies you turned in at law school. You’re in the real world now, son. All these guys may not be lawyers, but most have been here since Hector was a pup. They know how to play the game and you had better catch up fast or you will be out on your ass.”

  “You’re worrying too much. Deano has me covered, and if anything troubling pops up, he’ll let me know.”

  “And another thing, I don’t know if having Deano hanging around as your personal assistant is such a good idea. If some nosy newspaper reporter starts digging into his background, there could be trouble.”

  Tank took a seat in a leather chair facing the view and propped his feet on a chrome and glass coffee table. “Deano has already gotten assurances of cooperation from the committees we need support from. It’s amazing what a few boxes of Cuban cigars and Jonny Walker Red can do for you.”

  Intent on finding out who the brains behind Tank’s election were, Rick looked up George Klinger. He hoped his friendship from their Cannon College days would pay off. Working on the inside of the tight-knit team that put Tank in office, he thought George knew more than his clever ads revealed.

  After the election, George turned down Tank’s offer to be his media director. Recognition of his work on the winning campaign landed him a job at the ABC TV affiliate, KXIR in Raleigh. He was a field reporter working his way up to be the eleven o’clock news anchor.

  “Got a minute?” Candi was surprised to hear Rick’s voice on the other end of her first phone call of the day.

  “Sure, be right there.”

  She stared at her phone after hanging up. He hadn’t spoken two words to her since the election. She lit up a cigarette, checked her makeup, and picked up a notepad before heading to Rick’s office. She strode in, leaving a trail of smoke behind her.

  “Well, Mr. Barnes, to what do I owe this honor?”

  “Cut the comedy and put that cigarette out,” Rick said, fanning smoke from behind his desk.

  “Oh my, aren’t we grouchy today.” She snuffed her cigarette on the inside of his empty trashcan since he didn’t have an ashtray in his office.

  “I have a meeting with KXIR’s George Klinger, Tank Johnson’s former c
ampaign media man.”

  “Yeah, I know who he is. So what are you going to see him about and why talk to me about it?”

  “You have a keen eye for detail and a nose for a good story. I thought I might bring you along and try to make a journalist out of you. Interested?”

  Candi bristled and shot back. “Listen, I’m an artist with a camera. I already know how to write stories and illustrate them with my photos. And I don’t intend to spend the rest of my career taking pictures for this rag. I have plans. I expect to win a Pulitzer someday photographing what’s going on in Africa, where people are dying by the thousands every day from starvation or at the hands of some maniac dictator. It’s called photo journalism and it’s more rewarding than playing detective in some high school vendetta you have going on.”

  Rick stared at her, blinking several times before responding. “I had no idea you had such high aspirations and low opinion of me. I thought we worked pretty well together on the campaign. But if you don’t think it’s important, I can get somebody else.”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, but you didn’t deserve that,” Candi said, softening her voice. She liked Rick, thought he was a good journalist, but his obsession with Tank Johnson was something of a mystery to her. “I’m sorry. I was out of line. I’ll go with you if you still want me to.”

  Rick smiled like he’d expected it to go this way from the start.

  Rick and Candi arrived at Benny’s Brew and Beanery early. Each nursed a beer, against company policy, while waiting for George to show up. The atmosphere between them had warmed and they were actually enjoying a non-work related conversation.

  “You must find life down here boring after living in New York City,” Rick said.

  “Life does move a little slower, but that isn’t all bad. College in the big city can wear on you. I just needed to get away from a lot of stuff when I graduated.”

  “But why Raleigh?”

  “Dan made me an offer, and here I am. What about you? What did a small town reporter have to do to get the City Desk as his first job after college?”

  “I covered a pretty nasty strike at the Coastline Railway Shops in my home town. Coastline was the only employer in the town. It boomed during World War II, but after the war the obsolete steam engines were replaced by diesels and they wanted to shut down the Shops. Sam Johnson was Chief Superintendent, which is the equivalent of vice president of operations in other industries. When the strike got violent, he had the governor call in the National Guard to put down the violence.”

  “Wow, some story. Is Sam Johnson’s involvement why you’re going after his son?” “That’s a long story. I’ll give you the short version. Tank broke me and my girlfriend up by having his dad move their family out of town.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  Rick shrugged. “Tank had it out for me in high school. He just picked on me nonstop. I guess when he saw me happy for once, he had to stop it any way he could. My girlfriend’s father, like everyone’s fathers, worked for Sam. So . . .”

  “So he had her family moved? Sam Johnson has more leverage than I thought.”

  “You could say that. I covered the strike while a student at the local college and worked part-time at the town newspaper. I interviewed Sam, and he dropped several bombs in my lap during the strike that torpedoed the Union’s bargaining position. Anyway, I was covering the strike every day, and the Raleigh Times Herald paid a nice fee for rights to run my stories, which they then fed to the Associated Press. It was a good deal. They didn’t have to send a reporter and we made some money. Dan liked my work and dangled a job in front of me if I would transfer to N.C. State. And the rest you know.”

  “Pretty neat story. I think I like you better out of the office. You turn into some little Dan Jenkins robot back there.”

  “Be careful. Dan’s my best friend. You’ll see what a good guy he can be the longer you work for him.”

  “I hope that won’t be too long. I was serious about going to Africa. I want to feel like I’m really doing something worthwhile.”

  “Like getting yourself killed? Do you know how much bounty those rebels put on capturing a white woman over there? They don’t play by the rules and thumb their nose at any effort by the U.N. to settle the civil war.”

  “Why, Rick, you sound like you care what happens to me. I’m flattered.”

  “Well, there are things you don’t know about me too. I do care. I cared deeply about my high school girlfriend, too. We were going to get married. Tank and I had fights over the lies he spread about Ann. He did everything he could to break us up. He said or did something to her that she wouldn’t talk about. She was upset for several weeks. The next thing I know she and her family were gone. I’ll never forgive him or his father. And now Sam is running some kind of suspicious business that law enforcement doesn’t seem to care about, but I care. ”

  Rick definitely liked Candi better in a relaxed atmosphere free of smoke. But their interaction came to an abrupt end when George Klinger showed up.

  “Hi, guys, sorry I’m late. Had to interview some grieving mother for the five-thirty news.” George settled into a seat at their table. “What are you up to these days, Rick, now that the campaign is over?

  “Just looking for the next story.”

  George laughed. “I miss you guys hanging around, I really do. That was a fun gig. Sam gave me a free hand in handling the media campaign.”

  “I’m glad you brought that up,” Rick said, opening up his notepad. “I’d like to ask you a few questions about Sam’s involvement in Tank’s election.”

  “Off the record?”

  “If that’s the way you want it.”

  “Okay, shoot. What do you want to know?”

  “I think we can all agree that Sam was the primary financial supporter for Tanks race, right?”

  “Yeah, you could say that,” George said with a bite of sarcasm, “but you know what? If I had that much money, I wouldn’t blow it on a political campaign.”

  “Exactly. So why was Sam so willing to spend nearly a million dollars on putting his son in the General Assembly?”

  George put up his hands is false defense. “Hey, man, you got me. I didn’t get involved in all the finance stuff. I just turned in a requisition for what I needed and got a check to pay for it. It was great. I didn’t ask questions and they didn’t bother me as long as Tank’s poll numbers showed him leading by double digits.”

  Candi cut in with a quick question. “Who coached Tank and wrote his speeches? And why didn’t we ever see him with the campaign entourage?”

  “Some Italian guy named Deano pretty much called the shots,” George said with dismissiveness. “They were big buddies in college. He stayed out of sight most of the time. I don’t know what his deal was, but when he talked, Tank listened. On the bus or in the hotel when we were on the road, he was in Tank’s ear all the time.”

  “Is this guy still Tank’s quarterback?” Rick asked.

  “He’s some kind of special assistant, so his name doesn’t show up on the organization chart.”

  “Where does Sam’s money come from?” Candi jumped in again. “He’s a big shot at Coastline Railway, but he can’t afford to shell out nearly a million from his own pocket.”

  At that question, George took his time to forming a response. Finally he said, “He owns some kind of distribution company on the side, a warehouse somewhere,” and then stood. “Look, I have to run and edit that interview. It’s been fun. Check you guys later.” He headed for the door.

  “Where?” Rick shouted after him, “Where is his warehouse?”

  Klinger hit the door and yelled back over his shoulder, “Winston-Salem, I think.”

  “Well,” Rick said, turning toward Candi, “I believe we got enough information to at leas
t know where to start looking.”

  “A warehouse in Winston-Salem. Could be anything.”

  “You did okay back there, good questions. You might make a journalist yet,” Rick teased.

  “I listen in on you and Dan and pick up pointers when you have your little office huddles. I think it went well, except I didn’t get any pictures.”

  “This was off the record, remember? There will be other chances. We might stakeout some spots to see who Tank hangs out with.”

  “This is getting creepy. You’ve been watching too many Crime Stopper TV shows,” Candi chuckled.

  Rick joined in her laugh. “This was good. We need to do this more often.”

  “Talk to Klinger?”

  “No, no. I mean you and I need to get out of the office more. We make a good team.” Rick smiled and carefully slipped his pocket recorder out to check the quality of the taped conversation.

  “You liar,” Candi said in feigned disgust. “You said this was off the record.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t use it in print, but it will help us crack their security wall and get some answers.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Proof of what kind of business Sam is involved in and why it was worth the better part of a million dollars to make sure his son won the General Assembly race. If we solve that, you’ll see the biggest scandal that has ever hit this state. It won’t only bring down Tank and his General Assembly cronies but also shake up Coastlines corporate offices in Washington. And for that, my friend, we may win the Pulitzer.”

 

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