The deputy mayor was silent, his expression grim as Herb zoomed back to a two-shot revealing Sandy—her body trembling—as she suddenly slapped him across the face, the sound exploding through the microphones like a thunderclap. “Bernard, how could you do this to our Cynthia? How could you make her into something so terrible and hide it from me? Why? Why? Why?” she said, stumbling over each word.
Jameson rubbed his cheek, his mouth hanging open, unable to speak.
“You’re an animal. An animal. An animal,” she shrieked, bursting into tears.
Ethan stood, worried the deputy mayor was about to storm off the set, and motioned wildly for Sampson to ask the last question again.
Peter leaned forward, his face inches from the deputy mayor. “What happened to Cynthia that night, Mr. Jameson? We can prove beyond any reasonable doubt that your daughter wasn’t killed by a bullet, that she was dead before she was shot, that Pavel Feodor didn’t murder her, and that Nancy McGregor rigged the entire case to get him convicted with the help of the public defender and the Russian Mob. We suspect that you were the mastermind behind the conspiracy. Is that the truth, Deputy Mayor?”
There was a long pause, Jameson’s eyes darting back and forth spasmodically. He took a deep breath. “Yes. It was me,” he whispered. “I pinned the murder on that lowlife.”
“Why, Mr. Jameson? Why did you frame Pavel Feodor?”
Jameson didn’t answer. He just stared into the camera.
“Well, if Feodor didn’t do it, then who did?” Sampson pressed on.
Herb zoomed into an extreme close-up, the deputy mayor’s face riddled with anguish.
“Who, Mr. Jameson?”
There was another long pause, Ethan staring into his monitors, mesmerized, before the deputy mayor finally spoke. “It was my fault,” he said, defeated. “I did it. I murdered my daughter, but it wasn’t supposed to happen. I hired a pimp to teach her a lesson. He was just supposed to push her around, rough her up a bit, but she laughed in his face, thought it was some kind of joke. So he beat her, pummeled her over and over again, until she collapsed and died right there on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.” He turned to his wife. “I didn’t mean to kill her. I didn’t. I didn’t,” he wailed. “But I couldn’t let her go public. It would’ve been the end of me, the end of my political career, and the end of our family.”
Sandy sat perfectly still, staring at her husband, color draining from her face as Ethan stood and slowly walked onto the set—not caring about the cameras. He leaned over and said to Peter, “We know what happened to Cynthia. Take us off the air. We’ve got the truth.” He sat back down and clicked on his headset. “Paul, call the police. They need to arrest the deputy mayor.”
“They’re on their way, Ethan,” Paul said. “The police commissioner was watching and just called the control room. There’s an army of cops about to take him into custody.”
“How long before they get here? We’re not gonna be able to detain him for very long. Hold on a second,” Ethan said as the door swung open and the police stormed the room.
“What’s happening?”
“The cops are cuffing Jameson. There’s gotta be twenty of them. Now they’re reading him his rights and escorting him out of the room,” he said breathlessly, the last bit of energy draining from his body. “Look, Paul, Sandy Jameson is just sitting there all by herself, crying uncontrollably. She’s a wreck. I gotta go see if I can find some way to comfort her.”
“Go then. And Ethan?”
“Yes, Paul?”
“Damn nice job tonight.”
“Thanks. That means a lot coming from you.” He yanked off his headset and made his way over to Sandy. “Is there anything I can say or do to make this any easier for you, Mrs. Jameson?” Sandy looked up, inconsolable, her expression blank, tears cascading down her cheeks. He handed her a tissue and sat down beside her. She didn’t say a word. And neither did he. Closing his eyes, he reached for a cigarette and thought about Sarah and Luke.
It was time to be with his wife and son.
Time to bring them home.
EPILOGUE
THE WEATHER HAD TURNED unseasonably cold, the temperature dropping into the lower forties, making it feel more like the beginning of winter than the end of the summer. Ethan shivered as he climbed off the elevator holding a dozen red roses, hoping the flowers with their dazzling color and scent of sunshine would make Sarah happy. He unlocked the front door and walked into his apartment, placing his briefcase on the floor and draping his trench coat over the back of a chair.
Then he began searching for his family.
He found Luke in his bedroom watching television, half asleep on the couch, Holly lying on the floor beside him, wagging her tail. Ethan smiled and quietly closed the door, tucking the roses under his arm as he headed off to look for Sarah. His family had returned the day after the broadcast, Ethan arguing with Paul, insisting it was safe for them to come home. There’d been no sign of a black Lincoln Navigator, no sign of the hit man, the Russians vanishing from his life almost as suddenly as they’d appeared.
He stopped at his study, flipped on the lights, and poured a tumbler of scotch.
Sitting in the middle of his desk was a front-page story in The New York Times lauding his special. He picked up the newspaper and began to read, marveling like a cub reporter at the power of the press. Nancy McGregor, Frankie O’Malley, and Edward Jenkins had all been suspended and indicted—accused of evidence tampering, conspiracy, and falsely convicting an innocent man. Alexey Kolkov, Anatoly Gennadi, and Nikolai Stanislov, long dead and buried, were the subject of a nationwide manhunt—charged with drug dealing, racketeering, and bribery. And political leaders across the country were clamoring for justice, demanding that Pavel Feodor be released and set free. The man once loathed as a vicious sociopath was now being hailed as an innocent victim—even with his long criminal past and his role in the gun battle the night of the murder.
Ethan lit a cigarette and inhaled the sweet smell of the scotch. Closing his eyes, he thought about the deputy mayor and wondered how a man with so much power and wealth could turn out so cruel and heartless. Bernard Jameson was locked away on H Block—just a few cells down from Pavel Feodor—awaiting trial for the sexual abuse and murder of his daughter. His family had been all but shattered—his wife hospitalized in a psych ward, his two children placed in the care of her family. Lost in the firestorm of public outrage was Cynthia herself, and the search for the pimp who had killed her. The tabloids had fixated on the details of her secret life—the sex and the prostitution—forgetting a fugitive was still out there, hiding in the belly of the beast, waiting to strike again.
Ethan put down the newspaper and stared at the scotch, wanting a drink in the worst way, then rummaged through a stack of papers on his desk until he found the business card Sarah had given him all those weeks before. Reaching for his iPhone, he punched in the number and waited until an answering machine picked up the call. Pausing briefly, he whispered, “Dr. Schwartz, my name is Ethan Benson. I’ve got a drinking problem I can’t control. Can I come in and see you? I need help. Please call me back.”
He sighed and hung up.
Then he peered at the scotch one last time.
And pushed it to the corner of his desk.
He’d taken the first step.
As he reached for another cigarette, Sarah walked into his study. She was barefoot and wearing a sheer satin nightgown, her long blonde hair flowing down her back, her face pure and angelic, her eyes sparkling in the fading sunlight streaming through the window. She made her way over to Ethan and kissed him on the top of his head. “Who were you talking to, Ethan?”
“I was leaving a message for Dr. Schwartz. I want to go see him.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. I want to stop drinking.”
“I was wondering if you’d ever get around to making that call,” she said, tenderly running her fingers down his back. “I’m proud of you,
Ethan.”
He smiled warmly and handed her the roses. “These are for you,” he said, kissing her forehead.
She inhaled the bouquet, then looked into his eyes. “I just checked on Luke. He’s down for the night. Shall we go climb into bed for a little mommy and daddy time?”
“I’d like that very much,” he said softly. “And you know what, babe? You’re about to cuddle up close to a new senior producer.”
Sarah backed away and smiled. “What do you mean?”
“Paul was so happy with my special, he wants me to produce all of Peter’s programming. So from now on, I’m management and forever attached to the hip to Mr. Anchorman himself.”
“Well, that should make life interesting,” she said, playfully kissing the tip of his nose.
Then he took her by the hand and led her down to the bedroom, slowly pulling off her nightgown and carrying her to bed. Soon they were lost in their lovemaking, the roses scattered on the sheets about them, a symbol of hope and happiness and their life together as a family.
AUTHOR Q & A
Q: When did you first know you wanted to write a novel?
A: I’ve been writing my entire life, hundreds of scripts for television newsmagazine and documentary productions. I’ve also been a voracious reader of all kinds of fiction. About ten years ago, I began wondering whether I could write a novel about my experiences as a producer and a reporter—which is very different from crafting a television script—and when I retired from ABC News a couple of years ago and had all this time to fill, I decided to give it a whirl. That’s when the inspiration really hit, and I sat down and began to write Live to Air.
Q: Do you follow any particular practices when you’re writing?
A: I definitely follow a very set routine. I’m an early riser and like to begin work first thing each day. I’m usually sitting at my desk by eight o’clock and spend four to five hours writing before my brain goes to mush, rarely getting out of my chair except to fetch a cup of coffee or to stretch my legs. My office looks out over a thick forest and majestic rolling hills, so it’s the perfect place to dream up new storylines and plot twists. But, unlike Ethan, who, at times, is scattered and disorganized, I’m a neat freak. Everything in my office is ordered and has its place—except for my golden retriever, Bailey, who’s incorrigible and makes herself comfortable wherever she wants.
Q: Did you have the plot developed to the end, or did the novel unfold in terms of plot as you wrote it?
A: This is a great question. I think all writers approach their stories in different ways. I thought about the plotline for Live to Air for quite some time before I sat down and started writing, but I never outlined the book and didn’t have a game plan for the story. What I did have was a beginning and an ending. They were fixed in my mind right from the start, even though the last chapter where Peter Sampson interviews the deputy mayor changed several times before I got it just right. The rest of the book evolved as I was writing, flowing out of my head, changing over and over as I polished the prose and moved around clues to add drama and suspense to the narrative.
Q: Which scenes did you find the most difficult to write?
A: I found the Rikers Island prison scenes the most difficult to write, even though I spent a lot of time in and out of lockups during my career. I never visited Rikers Island for any of my stories, so it took a lot of reading and telephone work to come up with a mental picture of the location to use in my book. Most of what I wrote was based on this research, and when I couldn’t answer a question about the physical layout of the prison, I borrowed from what I’d seen at other penal institutions and used my imagination for the rest. I think writers call this “creative license.”
Q: From early on in the book, it seems that your knowledge of the TV production business is extensive. Is this a business you know well?
A: I spent almost forty years working for ABC News, NBC News, FOX News, and Martha Stewart Living Television. I was a writer and producer and experienced many of the big changes that revolutionized TV production during my long career. It’s been my life’s work, and I love every aspect of the business.
Q: Did you base any of the characters in Live to Air on your real-life experiences?
A: Everybody who’s read Live to Air asks me this question, and let’s just say that during my career, I produced dozens of high-profile crime stories, where I met gang members, rapists, killers, and serial murderers, and I worked with some of the most famous prosecutors, defense lawyers, detectives, and private investigators in law enforcement. I’ve also collaborated extensively with news correspondents and anchors, production teams, and TV news executives. Yes, all my characters are based on real-life experiences and are a product of the many people who helped me report and produce my stories.
Q: Can you tell us more about the character of Ethan and why he is so unhappy with the general state of journalism?
A: Ethan’s unhappiness is something I certainly felt during the last few years of my career. As audiences grew smaller and ratings collapsed, television news began looking for ways to streamline production and save money. For Ethan, serious reporting was the bread and butter of his career, but in his new reality at The Weekly Reporter, with its shorter deadlines, fewer shooting days, and tighter budgets, there was no room for in-depth reporting. Now, don’t get me wrong—I believe strongly that there’s a place in television news for crime stories. I produced many and hope to build a new career based on my experiences, but for Ethan, who sees himself as a hard-nosed journalist, the transition from investigative reporting to crime reporting was difficult to swallow and is an underlying storyline throughout the book.
Q: Ethan does not want to do crime stories and makes it clear in the novel. Is there a particular reason for this aversion?
A: Ethan’s sentiments mirror those of many producers who work in television today—especially those who remember an era when newsmagazines like The Weekly Reporter concentrated on hard news and investigative reporting. I found it quite difficult making this transition myself but gradually realized that crime stories serve a unique purpose in the programming of a news broadcast.
Q: Does GBS reflect any place you have previously worked?
A: GBS is definitely a synthesis of all the news divisions where I worked. There are scenes in the novel drawn from ABC News, NBC News, Fox News, and many television shows—such as 20/20, Dateline NBC, World News Tonight, and even Martha Stewart Living. In writing Live to Air, I tried to craft the television scenes as authentically as possible—from the types of cameras used in the field to the staffing required to build a set for an interview—and in order to accomplish this and make it seem real, I needed to draw on a treasure trove of experiences from all the networks where I was lucky enough to hang my hat.
Q: When Ethan’s people build the set for the deputy mayor’s interview, they say they’re doing in a couple of hours what usually takes a day. Can you explain what goes into building a set?
A: Building a set is a complex process, especially when an anchor is involved in the interview. It usually requires a huge production crew—cameramen, soundmen, lighting directors, electricians, and grips, to name just a few. For a live interview like the deputy mayor’s, cables were run from the set in the deputy mayor’s apartment down to a remote truck on the street, which Ethan used to feed the interview back to the GBS Broadcast Center, where it was switched live to the network. That too had to be built from scratch and staffed by a team of people. The scope of this kind of production is enormous and takes a high level of coordination from every member of the team. My personal experience in constructing a set like the one in Live to Air comes from producing dozens of interviews with Barbara Walters at 20/20. Each and every one required a staff of at least fifteen people and a full production day before we were ready to roll cameras.
Q: Ethan’s instinct seems to be a great and powerful driver in this story. Can you comment on this and how it relates to your own life or career?
; A: Well, this is difficult to answer. As a producer, my stories were always grounded in the research and based on the sources who fed me information. And like Ethan’s, my stories were built around the facts. But there were always moments during production when I knew I was missing something important and knew that if I just did a little more digging, I’d learn a critical piece of information that would affect my storyline. That’s why I made instinct such a big part of what drives Ethan as a producer. It’s what makes him special and gives him an edge.
Q: Do you identify with Ethan? Who was your favorite character to write?
A: This is another great question. Many fictional characters are based on an author’s life experiences. How else can a novelist create a living, breathing hero like Ethan Benson? There are definitely elements of my personality in this character, but having said that, I’ll leave it to the reader’s imagination to figure out which ones they are.
Ms. Templeton has a special place in my heart. At the beginning of my career, I produced dozens of investigative stories on consumer products, military spending, and medical malpractice. And yes, on almost every one of these projects, I had a source like Ms. Templeton who slipped me information under the table. She represents the essence of journalism, the whistleblower who helps Ethan unlock the hidden secrets essential to unraveling his story.
Q: This book seems a bit like a love letter to New York City, and you seem to know the city well. Why did you pick NYC as the setting for your story?
A: I picked New York City for a plethora of reasons. I spent forty years living in Manhattan and know all the neighborhoods in Live to Air like the back of my hand. I also spent days on location visiting each community I wrote about, mastering the subtleties and nuances that make them unique. Of course, the television news business is based in the city, and that’s probably the main reason I chose Manhattan as the center of Ethan Benson’s universe.
Q: And why did you decide to set the key shoot-out scene in the Meatpacking District?
Live to Air Page 33