Cover-up

by John Feinstein

  They all found places to sit.

  “Eddie called our cells first, but they were turned off,” Susan Carol said. “He said he asked for Bobby’s room, figuring he would know where we were.”

  “Yes, yes,” Kelleher said. “Cut to the chase.”

  She nodded. “Right. He said his coach showed up in his room at seven o’clock and told him Meeker knew Eddie was the source of the story and that he was going to come to the team breakfast and tell everyone Eddie had ratted out his teammates.”

  “But how could Meeker know?” Stevie asked.

  “Eddie said someone from USTV was feeding Meeker information about the time we spent with Eddie during the week.”

  “Tal Vincent?” Stevie said.

  “I think so. Someone must have sucked up to Meeker big-time to get that interview Friday. And now he’s getting back at you by telling Meeker we were spending time with Eddie.”

  “But that doesn’t prove he told us anything,” Stevie said.

  “He doesn’t have to prove anything,” Tamara said. “And it doesn’t really matter how he knows. All he has to do is make the accusation and Eddie’s in trouble.”

  The room phone rang and everyone jumped.

  “I told Eddie to call us back here,” Susan Carol said. “I bet that’s him.”

  Kelleher answered. He nodded to Susan Carol. “Eddie, it’s Bobby Kelleher. Stevie and Susan Carol and my wife, Tamara, are all here. You mind if I put you on speaker?”

  Eddie sounded a little bit breathless as he started to talk. “Meeker told the team it was me, that I had ratted out the o-line. He said he wouldn’t tell the coach what to do, but as the team owner, he didn’t want a snitch playing quarterback in the Super Bowl.”

  “Did anyone bother to point out that if the o-line hadn’t been using HGH and if Meeker hadn’t been covering it up, there would have been nothing to tell?” Susan Carol said, her voice indignant.

  “I told you guys earlier in the week how this would go if they thought I was your source,” he said. “They’re not the bad guys right now—I am.”

  “So what happens next?” asked Stevie.

  “Kaplow told me I’m not starting. He said it’s for my own protection. He’s afraid the o-line might pull a club rush and I’d get killed.”

  “Club rush?” Susan Carol asked.

  “It’s when you purposely don’t block,” Stevie said quickly. “They do it to rookies sometimes in training camp if they don’t like them—right, Eddie?”

  “You got it,” Brennan said. “Only this isn’t training camp, where guys will hold back a little to keep someone from getting hurt. This is the Super Bowl.”

  “Do you think Kaplow’s right?” Stevie asked.

  “Probably, yes. But here’s the thing: they can’t win this game without me. That may sound cocky, but it’s true. Meeker signed Jeff George as our backup quarterback even though he’s about a hundred and has been through a half dozen teams. Meeker’s paying him a ton because he thinks he has big-game experience while I’m just a kid. But really, George is way over the hill.”

  “Don’t the guys know that?” Susan Carol said.

  “I think they do. But Meeker has them convinced I’m the devil.”

  “What did you say to them?”

  “I said Meeker was crazy—which he is. But I didn’t want to say too much—I didn’t want to lie to them. But I’ll tell you who will lie: Meeker. He’s going on USTV and CBS today to say that he knew nothing about any positive tests, and if there are reports with positive results, they must be either fakes or bad tests. He’s going to ask for a brand-new round of tests tomorrow.”

  “But that wouldn’t prove the guys weren’t positive two weeks ago,” Susan Carol said.

  “I know,” Brennan said. “He’s a weasel. You two need to be careful. This guy is going to play serious hardball. He’ll do anything to try to make you look bad, to make me look bad, to make the testers look bad. Anything to get out of this.”

  “He won’t get out of it,” Stevie said.

  “I hope you’re right,” Brennan said. “But right now, I’m not convinced that you are. When it comes to being evil, this guy is on another level.” He sighed. “I gotta go,” he said. “I have a game to not play.”

  Stevie felt a wave of guilt, thinking if he and Susan Carol hadn’t persuaded him to help them, none of this would be happening. “I’m really sorry, Eddie,” he said.

  “Don’t be,” Brennan said. “You did the right thing. So did I. We all did. Don’t feel bad about doing the right thing.” He paused. “Someone has to do it—right?”

  They hung up and just looked at each other. They’d run their story—told the truth—and the wrong player wasn’t playing.

  “Oldest story in sports,” Bobby said. “It’s the Code. I see it in college basketball all the time. It’s worse to be accused of turning someone in for recruiting violations than to commit them.”

  “He’s right about Jeff George too,” Tamara said. “They can’t win with him playing. I can’t believe Meeker would go through all this to keep the linemen on the field, then throw it all away to spite Eddie.”

  “He doesn’t think he’s throwing it away,” Susan Carol said. “He’s the one who signed George. This is his chance to prove that Kaplow’s been playing the wrong quarterback all year.”

  “Even though that quarterback got the team to the Super Bowl,” Stevie added.

  “I feel helpless about all this,” Susan Carol said.

  “We’ve done all we can do for the moment,” Bobby said. “This is like any game we cover—we have nothing to do with the outcome when all is said and done.”

  “Except we do,” Stevie said. “We’re responsible for getting one team’s quarterback benched.”

  “You aren’t responsible for that,” Tamara said. “He’s a grown man. He made a decision. And he just told you guys he didn’t regret it—you shouldn’t either.”

  Stevie still felt queasy about the whole thing. They couldn’t leave the room without getting bombarded by media again, so they read the papers and ordered room service and stewed.

  21: REVIEWING THE PLAY

  STEVIE WAS RELIEVED when Sean McManus finally called to say he was going to send his car to pick them up outside the hotel. “He’ll drive you right under the stadium so you can avoid the crowds,” he said. “I don’t think you want to wade through the Dreams’ fans right now.”

  That was a good point. Stevie had been so focused on not wanting to talk to any more media people, he had almost forgotten about the fans. Great—thousands of people all ticked off at him were now heading into the stadium.

  So they all gathered their laptops and their courage and set out to the Super Bowl. “Gee, I guess it pays to know important people,” Kelleher said as they climbed into Sean’s car. The drive took no more than five minutes. They were stopped briefly at the loading-dock entrance they had used the other day so the police could check under the car, then they pulled up at the back of the CBS compound.

  “Now this,” said Tamara as they got out, “is living.”

  “First Super Bowl I’ve been to in years where it didn’t take an hour to get inside the building,” Kelleher said.

  Stevie was just relieved to be inside and in an area that was off-limits to the public. They walked around the CBS compound to the downstairs media workroom and arrived just in time to see Don Meeker’s face on TV sets all over the room. The sound was apparently turned up on all the sets because they could hear him quite clearly as soon as they walked in.

  “These are kids who got carried away,” Meeker was saying. “They’re not professionals. The people who should be ashamed are the so-called pros at that paper. The story’s wrong—just wrong.”

  “The story says there is documentation on these positive tests….”

  “We’re aware of that. We’re investigating right now. I was given a report that all our players tested clean. It’s my belief that someone, perhaps someone in our or
ganization, doctored the test results, then found the only two reporters gullible enough to believe this phony story.”

  “Why would someone in your own organization do that?”

  “Let me just say that we’ve had some competency issues with at least one of our doctors. I don’t want to say anything more about that right now.”

  Kelleher took a deep breath. “I hate to tell you guys this,” he whispered, “but he’s setting Arciero up. This whole interview is a setup.”

  “Big surprise,” Susan Carol said. “Look where it’s airing.”

  Now Stevie noticed the USTV logo at the bottom of the screen.

  The interviewer said he had one last question. “Can you see any reason why these two young reporters would want to produce a story like this on the day of the Super Bowl?”

  Meeker almost smiled. Kelleher was right, Stevie decided. This was a setup.

  “Well, you know, Chris, the obvious answer is to call attention to themselves,” he said. “They’ve certainly been everywhere this week.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, I’m hesitant to bring it up, but the young girl…”

  “Susan Carol Anderson.”

  “Yes. I read now that she’s only fourteen. But if you’d seen her behavior at some of the cocktail parties this week…Well, there would be any number of men who would be as shocked by her age as I was….”

  Stevie heard Susan Carol gasp. Protectively, he put an arm around her.

  “Ask the SOB exactly what he means by that, you TV weasel!” Stevie heard Kelleher shouting.

  The TV weasel asked nothing else. Instead, he said, “Mr. Meeker, we’re grateful to you for coming on under such difficult circumstances and speaking with so much candor.”

  “I need to sit down,” Susan Carol said. “My father’s going to see that.”

  As soon as Meeker disappeared from the screen, a number of reporters in the room turned in the direction of Stevie and Susan Carol. Stevie, arm still around Susan Carol, was guiding her to a chair.

  Microphones began to surround them.

  “Ms. Anderson, any comment on what Mr. Meeker just said?” someone asked.

  Kelleher jumped in front of them like a human shield. “Here’s the deal, guys,” he said, his voice raised so people could hear him. “Don Meeker is a lying dirtbag—you can quote me on that. I happen to know both these kids, and not only is the reporting they’ve done impeccable, they are completely above reproach as people.”

  “Aren’t you a little biased, Bobby?” someone said. “The story’s in your paper.”

  “What I am is right,” Kelleher said. “Now give the girl some room to breathe, will you? She’s just been slandered on national TV.”

  People began backing off. “We can’t stay here,” Kelleher said. “You’ll be mobbed again soon.”

  “We can go to CBS,” Stevie suggested.

  Kelleher nodded. “Good idea. It’s three-thirty. Meeker ought to be done in there by now. I guarantee you CBS didn’t throw softballs at him like USTV did.”

  “I have to call my father,” Susan Carol said.

  “Call him when we get to CBS,” Kelleher said.

  They walked out of the room—all eyes on them. They were about to walk under the CBS SPORTS sign when Stevie saw Don Meeker walking toward them with Mike and Moe on either side of him and three yellow-jacketed security guards leading the way.

  “I’m going to kill him,” Stevie said, not caring about the security coterie.

  “Easy,” Kelleher said. “Keep walking. Don’t talk to him.”

  But as they got closer, in spite of Kelleher’s warning, Stevie heard himself shout, “You won’t get away with this, Meeker! You’re going down—everyone is going to know you’re a liar and a cheat!”

  Meeker was smirking. “You want to repeat that, kid?” he said. “I don’t think Mike and Moe heard you clearly.”

  “Oh, aren’t you brave,” Kelleher said. “What’re you going to do, sic five hundred pounds of bully on a hundred-and-thirty-pound kid?”

  “——you, Kelleher,” Meeker said. “Keep walking, fellas, there’s no one here worth talking to.” He looked at Susan Carol. “What’re you doing, sweetie, looking for a date?”

  That was it for Stevie. He didn’t care about Mike and Moe. He put his head down and charged at Meeker. Fortunately, Kelleher took a quick step forward and cut him off. “Easy, Stevie,” he said, almost catching him in midair. “This guy will get what he deserves. Just not here and now.”

  Stevie wanted to get to Meeker, but he knew Kelleher was right. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

  Meeker and company departed, Meeker saying something Stevie couldn’t hear as they left.

  Stevie looked at Susan Carol. She was beet red and looked like she might cry. He wanted to put an arm around her, but Kelleher was still holding on to him. Now Kelleher took him by both shoulders and forced his attention back to him. “I want you to listen to me, Stevie,” he said. “I understand why you would react that way. But you cannot go around here the rest of the day all wound up and ready to blow. You need to take a deep breath and not let anything anyone says get to you. You’ve done your job. Let your reporting do the talking for you.”

  “But he shouldn’t be allowed to get away with saying that stuff….”

  “He won’t be. I’ll bet the CBS people didn’t let him say any of it. The calmer and more rational you are, the crazier he looks. So keep your cool. Got it?”

  Stevie nodded. “Okay, got it. But I’d still like to kill the guy.”

  “I think you’d need to get in line,” Susan Carol said. Her voice was calm but her face was still flushed.

  Andy Kaplan came to greet them. “Someone just told me Meeker was being a jerk going out,” he said. “When you see the interview we did with him, you may understand why he was in a bad mood.”

  He led them back to a studio setup Stevie hadn’t seen earlier in the week. Jim Nantz was waiting. Introductions were made all around.

  “That was a great piece of reporting you guys did this morning,” Nantz said.

  They all sat down to look at the Meeker interview. Andy Kaplan hadn’t been kidding. Nantz was gentle at the start, but when Meeker started into all the conspiracies against him, Nantz—unlike USTV—wouldn’t let him get away with it.

  “Hang on, Don,” he said. “You are asking us to believe that someone in your own organization, people working in a lab, and two reporters at a highly respected newspaper all conspired to sabotage you and the Dreams? Isn’t that farfetched?”

  On the screen, Meeker’s face tightened. After the softballs at USTV, he hadn’t expected this. “I’m here to tell you the truth,” he said. “If CBS chooses to side with a two-bit newspaper and some bitter, incompetent people working for me…”

  “Two-bit newspaper?” Nantz said. “We aren’t talking about the National Enquirer here, Don. And if these people were so bitter and incompetent, why were they still working for you—”

  “They won’t be for long,” Meeker broke in. “And I’ve heard that USTV is firing Susan Carol Anderson as well. This kind of smear campaign won’t work.”

  Nantz smiled. “Well, we’ll all be eager to have the truth come out here. Let me ask you this, if the test results prove to be true, what action will you take? Will you apologize to everyone involved?”

  “I don’t apologize,” Meeker said. “Not to you. Not to anyone. You’re against me too, aren’t you?” He was starting to really scream now. “Everyone knows CBS wants the Ravens to win this game! You’re no different from the rest of them!”

  “Mr. Meeker, thank you for your time,” Nantz said.

  “Wow,” Kelleher said when the screen went blank. “All he needed was to reach into his pocket for some steel balls.”

  Everyone laughed. Stevie was baffled, Susan Carol could tell. “The Caine Mutiny,” she said. “It was summer reading for us last year. The paranoid captain of the Caine always played with two steel balls wh
enever he was convinced someone was trying to get him.”

  “Humphrey Bogart played Queeg in the movie,” Nantz added. “So, are you both ready to go? I don’t want to rush anyone, but I need to get up to the booth pretty soon.”

  Stevie and Susan Carol were miked and, as the cameras rolled, Nantz asked them in detail about the story. When they’d walked him through it, Nantz nodded and said, “As I’m sure you know, Don Meeker tells quite a different story. Why should we believe you?”

  Stevie fielded this one. “Well, we have no reason to lie. We have nothing to gain and nothing to lose but our credibility—which is why Mr. Meeker is doing everything he can to undermine that now by making ridiculous personal remarks about Susan Carol. Anyone who’s met her knows how crazy his comments are. But Mr. Meeker, on the other hand, has every reason to lie.”

  Nantz continued to question them. “So, these lab reports, you actually have them?”

  “Oh yes,” Susan Carol answered.

  “And you believe them to be authentic?”

  “Without a doubt,” she said. “We would never make this kind of accusation without being one hundred percent sure, and neither would the Herald.”

  “Now, Susan Carol, Mr. Meeker told us you were being let go by USTV. Is that correct?”

  She gave him her best smile. “No one’s told me about it if it is.”

  “So, bottom line,” he said finally, “you and the Herald stand by everything in the story?”

  “Every word,” Susan Carol said. “We know some people don’t like to hear the truth—especially this kind of truth. They want to believe all their athletic heroes are wonderful guys. Some of them are. Probably most. But our job is to tell people the truth—whether it’s good news or bad news.”

  And that was a wrap.

  “Hard to believe either of you is fourteen,” Jim Nantz said when the stage lights went out and they un-miked. “I’d like to have your futures.”

  “Wouldn’t we all,” Kelleher said, walking up.

  Nantz thanked them and shook hands all around and headed up to the booth.

  “Less than two hours until kickoff,” Kelleher said.