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And Nothing But The Truth (standard:drama, 1629 words) | |||
Author: Bobby Zaman | Added: May 08 2002 | Views/Reads: 3973/2414 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
Behind the scenes of politics and cover-ups. | |||
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story brisk night. Rod and Blake were in the lobby, waiting for us. They were the agency's best bodyguards and Shane's buddies of old from the neighborhood. They stayed on a strictly first-name basis. We slipped into Shane's unmarked, unregistered Blazer, with Rod at the wheel and Blake in the passenger seat. Shane and I took the back seat, and it never thrilled me enough to tap a finger against the bulletproof windows. Rod took the Blazer at breakneck speed down Lake Shore Drive, swerving in and out of lanes, in between cars, leaving a trail of blaring horns and middle fingers in his wake. "The mayor's press secretary wants to have a word with you," said Shane. "I hate that joker," I said. Rod chuckled. We pulled up in front of City Hall. Shane, Rod, and Blake did the customary look-around before ushering me out. I caught a glimpse of myself on one of the windowpanes and got reminded of the Blues Brothers. "Will the mayor be around?" I asked. "That jackoff's always around." Press Secretary Rich Steiner met us promptly at the top of the escalator. He's at it fourteen to sixteen hours a day, cleaning up the mayor's footprints, reversing the hereditary fault that the mayor has of saying the wrong thing at the worst times; yet his hair is always in place with at least a pound of mousse trapping it against his skull, and no matter what time of day, he looks rested and ready to battle anything. "Ali, good seeing you again," said Steiner taking my hand with both of his. "Let's talk." Rod and Blake stayed back by the escalators while Steiner led us to his office. I asked Shane and took off my get-up. "You're a smart man, Ali, and I'll get right to the point with you," said Steiner placing a crisp bundle of hundred-dollar bills on his desk, within my reach. "That girl's parents have already been taken care of." This is a bad flick, I thought. Shane looked at the money as he'd looked at the Pad Thai earlier at my apartment. "What am I supposed to do with this?" I asked. Steiner sucked his teeth and fixed his tie. Shane dug his heels into the carpet and looked back and forth between Steiner and me. "You're a journalist, Ali, one of this city's best," Steiner continued, "And the city likes having people like you working for it. You see what I'm saying. For it, not against it. Now you go around writing about the mayor like you did, how do you expect the city to react?" Blood thumped in my temples at the tone of his voice. This was the same guy that's going to be on TV tomorrow talking about the mayor's plan to develop more after school activities to keep kids off the streets. Bad flicks don't get any worse than this. "You want me to take back what I said?" I said. "I knew you were a smart man," said Steiner slapping his thigh. "Not happening," I said. A hush fell immediately and Steiner quickly threw a glance at Shane. "Stalemates have never been the way politics happen in this country," Steiner went on, "You know that just as well as I do. A decision is always reached, no matter what methods are used. This can't be a stalemate." "It isn't," I said, "the city has the story and a decision will be made by the people." "The people? The people? The goddamn people? You think anything would get done around here if it was up to any Joe Schmoe in the streets?" Steiner stood up and walked to a window and raised the blinds. "See that?" He pointed at a sprawling view of the city, lights flickering, some low clouds getting into place for a late night shower, and cars snaking endlessly back and forth along the streets. "It's not a matter of joke making sure it stays that way. Look at that. These sons of bitches haven't got a clue what's really going on. What it takes to keep the scum out of their way, so they can go to the lake and come home and fuck their little blond wives and girlfriends. People. They'd end this place in one hour if it was left to them." He fixed his gaze on me as though no one else were there with us. "Ali, the Sheas have had this city too long to let go of it now, and they won't. Not over some horny, teenage broad that wants to be the next Monica Lewinsky." I stood up. "There's nothing I can do," I said and started for the door. "It's your career, Ali. Hell, it's your life," Steiner yelled as I open ed the door. "It's all our lives," I said and walked out, with Shane covering his mouth to hold back laughter. On the way back, as Rod's speed doubled along with the train of angry drivers in his wake, Shane kept on shaking his head and chuckling, saying, "You're one son of a bitch I'll never forget, Ali." The elections happened. Shea won again, and he's got ward bosses in his pocket that could put Adolf Hitler in office if they wanted to. Though my life's gotten back to some form of normalcy, Shane is still a frequent visitor. I never refuted the article, but the girl's parents made a public statement that the man in question was someone different and not the mayor or anyone in his office, and they'd run DNA tests to prove it. The identity of the real "man" is still a mystery. And my life's mission is now to track down those test results. It'll be difficult. Not a single hospital or city official takes my phone calls, and when I show up in person, I sit around for hours while they finish up endless meetings. Tweet
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