The Three Dollar Phoenix - Walt Sautter (best way to read e books .txt) 📗

number where I can get back to you” he concluded.
“I’ll call you “ answered Ed firmly.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I’ve got to be careful. I’m sure you can appreciate that after what I’ve just told you. I’ll call you, say tomorrow, in the morning” he reiterated.
With that, he left Charles’ office and headed back to Sam’s place, uncertain as to the outcome of the meeting but still sure it had been his only choice If this didn’t work out, his next move was unclear.
“How could it not work out?” he thought.
“This is the kind of stuff that could sell more newspapers than Watergate. Nobody died in Watergate. How could any paper walk away from a gold mine like that?”
As he thought, he became increasingly confident that the whole thing might finally be drawing to a close for him and the idea helped to soothe his jangled nerves. He’d sleep better tonight, with the feeling that, at last he might have enlisted the support of a potent ally.
The morning hours dragged by at snail’s pace. Ed had arisen early, awakened by the gnawing anxiety which had become part of his daily life. He had watched the clock tick by the past three hours, in painfully slow fashion.
Now, it was eight-thirty and he reached for the phone lying on the table in front of him.
“Charles should be at work by now” he thought as he dialed the number.
His heart started to race, as the phone rang. A sense of dread spread over him at the prospect of rejection. He consciously wrestled his thoughts to the positive, in an effort to regain his composure.
After several rings, Charles’ gravelly voice answered. “Herald-News, Charles speaking” came the greeting.
“Ed Bennett” Ed choked out only to be interrupted immediately.
“Mr. Bennett, listen, I talked to the boss about your story. He says we’re not interested.”
Then, after a brief pause, he added in an admonishing voice, “As a matter of fact, he says that if you were smart, you wouldn’t be so interested either.”
It took Ed several moments to recover from the initial shock of Charles rebuff. Then, he replied.
“Not interested!”
“You’ve got to be kidding. How the hell could you not be interested?”
He felt his stomach begin to roll and the heat of blood rushing into his face.
“The whole god damn stadium is loaded with radioactivity. Thousands of people go there every week. And you’re not interested!”
“What the hell is going on?” he blurted into the telephone in a burst of anger.
“Maybe you don’t understand the situation here” responded Charles in a slow, stern tone.
“Let me explain some of the facts of life to you, my boy” he continued in a disparaging voice.
“Here it is. Let’s start with a lesson in Common Sense 101.
The stadium was built with money raised by selling bonds, municipal bonds to be precise. They’re the tax free kind, in case you don’t know. Now who do you think buys them?
I’ll give you one hint. It’s not people who are broke or just making ends meet. It’s not the average guy in the street.
It’s big money guys. High priced doctors, lawyers and politicians.
By the way, your friend House is one of them, a big one. He’s got plenty of money tied up there and he’s made a lot of money on the deal. He bought when the project first started and rates were sky high, back in the seventies. Those bonds gotta be worth a fortune now.
From what I gather, he’s just about ready to unload them now, too. He’s gonna buy that hospital he runs and the bonds are gonna do it for him.
Now, let’s pretend that something goes wrong and the stadium all of a sudden doesn’t work out. Something like what you told me about.
Where’s all the money to payoff all those bonds gonna come from? What’s gonna. happen to all those big investors like House, for example?”
Charles continued without awaiting the obvious answer to his questioning.
“Now, do you think that if they know about something that’s going to jeopardize their investment they’re going to just sit on their asses and let it all go down the drain?
Are you getting my point?
Let me add it all up for you. If this paper or any paper helps that kinda thing happen and all those bonds collapse, a lot of people aren’t gonna take too kindly to us.
There’ll be more cops, inspectors and examiners down here than flies on a turd. We’ll be cited for violations that aren’t laws yet. We won’t be able to remember what a delivery truck with four good tires looks like.
Now, do you understand what I’m trying to tell you? The boss knows some of these guys. He’s a good judge of character and he says most of them don’t have any.
They’re strictly into M and M, money and muscle. If money won’t work muscle will and if that don’t work they’ve got one final solution for the problem.
They must have decided that money probably wouldn’t work on you so they started right off with muscle.
Too bad for them and you, it didn’t work.”
There was a brief silence and then the tone of Charles’ voice mellowed.
“Look, you might be able to find some paper to print this story but it won’t be easy to find fools that big.
Do yourself a favor and forget it kid.”
Ed’s anger was diminished by Charles’ sincerity.
“What am I suppose to do? Just pretend everything’s OK?” he asked in meek reply.
“If I were you, I’d prescribe an amnesia pill for myself and go to California for a long vacation. I’d even consider taking up residency” Charles said snidely, in a weak attempt to cover his former air of concern.
“What about one of the national news magazines or a paper like the Times. They’d go for it I’m sure” replied Ed in protest and hoping for Charles’ agreement.
“Did you ever read anything about Kennedy while he was in office? The stuff he was doing. The women and all that?
Do you think those magazines you’re talking about didn’t know about it at the time?”
Charles answered his own question in the same breath.
“Sure they did. But you didn’t hear a god damn. thing about it then.
The reason was, the right people made sure it wasn’t printed.
The thing with NASA and the space shuttle. Look at all the shitty workmanship and all the other stuff. Why didn’t we hear about it before the accident?
Do you think nobody at Newsweek knew about that?”
Again Charles answered his own questions in his usual, rough but direct manner.
“You gotta be friggin’ kidding. Of course they knew but nobody was gonna tell, that is, until the whole thing blew up in their face.”
“What about the EPA?” asked Ed.
Charles paused and then replied.
“We’re not talkin’ about a few dozen houses at Love Canal here. This is the big league. Hundreds of millions, maybe billions. It depends on how wide spread this shit is.
This is politics in high places. It ain’t gonna work. The EPA was created by politicians. You don’t think the kid will turn on its old man, do you?
It’s too bad but that’s the way it works. If certain people want it kept quiet, it stays quiet” he repeated ominously.
Charles’ logic was apparently indisputable and Ed’s loss for words drew the conversation to an abrupt halt. As he replaced the receiver in its holder, he began a long, deep self agonizing.
Maybe it was none of his business. Who had appointed him to oversee the public welfare. Was his own altruistic conscience manipulating him into the fools role?
Deep inside, he knew that he couldn’t win. If he walked away, as Charles had advised, he couldn’t leave his conscience behind. If he continued his apparently fruitless search for justice, the consequences would most likely be catastrophic.
He sat at the edge of the chair, hands clasped, while the internal struggle raged back and forth. He knew full well that abdication of his moral responsibility could never be complete. His feelings of guilt would rise and fall, that he knew, and he knew equally well that they could never be fully eradicated. They would be embedded in him, part of him.
If he chose to pursue his quest and even if he failed at least he would escape that fate. For him, torments of the soul could never be slighter than those of the body. His course was set and from its path he could see no escape.
He emerged from his inner conflict, steadfast in his conviction but unsure as to what would be next. The certainty of his cause failed to provide him with a plan.
Maybe Charles was wrong. He was obviously a confirmed cynic.
“The man a could find fault with the Virgin Mary” thought Ed.
He’d call the EPA. What the hell. The worst that could happen would be Charles was right. He called the 800 number.
A Miss Goncalves answered and connected him with Mr. Wright who was in charge or radiation monitoring.
Wright listened as Ed detailed the events of the past months, periodically injecting words of encouragement, into the conversation.
At the end of twenty minutes or so Ed hung up the phone firmly convinced of Charles’ fallibility. Wright was going to lay some groundwork to begin a full scale investigation, he said. The sound of his voice instilled optimism.
He was to call Wright in the morning to get the specifics.
Again, he felt relieved but this time the nagging recollection of his experience with Charles served to dull his enthusiasm.
He forced himself into high spirits the next morning, as he called Wright. His overpowering hope for resolution left no room for the anticipation of disappointment. He eagerly dialed the number, while Wright’s optimistic words ran through his head.
The secretary answered. Ed identified himself and continued, “Mr. Wright is expecting my call.”
“One moment please.”
Within seconds, she was back on the line.
“I’m sorry. Mr. Wright is out on unexpected personal business and we’re not quite sure when he’ll return” she said sharply.
“Hello!” came the secretary’s inquiring voice responding to the prolonged silence.
Ed struggled to speak.
“He said I should call him this morning” he stammered in reply.
“When will he back?”
“One moment, please” came the sing-song voice and the line was quiet for several seconds. He could feel the surge of anxiety begin its sweep over him as he waited.
“I can’t be sure” she answered without explanation.
“Will you have him call me when he returns?” he asked, half heartedly.
“Certainly” she answered in an obliging voice which was immediately followed by the click of the receiver.
The abrupt, uneasiness of the conversation spoke for itself. Charles was right after all. Ed sensed it and with bitter reluctance, he forced himself to accept the truth.
Throughout the following days, the words Charles had uttered rang over again and again in Ed’s mind. He carefully recalled each and every syllable and it became increasingly clear that he was in this alone now and that’s the way it would stay.
He knew he could count on Melinda. She had already made that perfectly clear by both word and action but he