The Anonymous Source (20 page)

ALEX ROSE
EARLY
and went to the business center. First, he researched Sadie Green and the Media Protection Organization. He found their tax records for the last ten years, along with dozens of press releases most of the newspapers had ignored. He learned that Sadie Green had been hired in early 2000 and that donations had risen by fifty percent in her first year. Donors were not listed by name, but Alex assumed the increase was due to her relationship with Hollinger. After reading for an hour, Alex thought he understood the mission of MPO and the particular slant that Sadie Green brought to this mission. Their four biggest priorities were slowing media conglomeration, reversing the deregulation that had occurred during the 1980s, increasing funding for public media, and protecting net neutrality. He printed out a typical MPO press release to take back to the room for Camila.

Next, Alex looked up Daniel Sharp, landing on his official bio on the New York City Web site. Sharp was born and raised in the Bronx and attended Princeton and Harvard Law before serving as a Law Clerk from 1988-1990. After seven years in private practice, Sharp became assistant DA in Manhattan. Alex couldn’t find anything on his religious affiliation, but he did learn that Sharp had attended the top-ranked Catholic high school in the city. Alex still could not believe that Sharp would sabotage his own case, but he could see how, if played right, a mistrial in the Santiago case might raise his profile more than a conviction would.

* * *

When he returned to the room, Camila was sitting on her bed wearing a bright orange cloth wrapped like a sari.

“Visit the gift shop?” Alex asked.

“I was sick of wearing those clothes from the airport. I got you a present.” She threw him a balled-up t-shirt, which splayed out as it flew through the air. Its pre-faded yellow fabric bore blue lettering that read: “It’s hard work looking this good.” The two sets of
o
’s looked like pairs of sunglasses.

“Uh, thanks,” he said. “This will go great with those Hawaiian shorts you’re so fond of.” He was distracted by the gift and felt short of breath. He hadn’t been prepared for her to do something nice. “I need to run. The sugar in those drinks is messing with me.”

He changed into his shorts in the bathroom. “Come for a run with me,” he said when he came out.

In response, Camila fell forward onto the bed.

“C’mon,” Alex said, pulling her up and pushing her toward the bathroom. “I’ll read you something as you change.”

Camila sighed and Alex read loudly in his “evening news” voice as she changed in the bathroom, the door slightly ajar.

“Thousands Sign Petition Urging FCC and Congress to Act on Net Neutrality. June 20, 2000. For immediate release.

“The Media Protection Organization (MPO) submitted a petition to Congress and the FCC today that was signed by over 20,000 citizens. It urged Washington to protect Internet neutrality and block corporate mergers.”

“Do others find that voice as annoying as I do?” Camila called from behind the door.

“Yes, they do,” Alex said. He continued in his normal voice. “The petition is part of MPO’s effort to slow the rapid conglomeration of media resources that has taken place since the unprecedented deregulation of the 1980s. In particular, it is aimed at stopping efforts by Standard Media and others to consolidate control of information by abandoning the decades-old custom of treating all data on the Internet equally.”

He paced in front of the bathroom door and continued loudly. “According to MPO Executive Director Sadie Green, ‘These companies want to be the gatekeepers of the Internet. It’s just a matter of time before rich people can get their data through, or get their sites to load, and poor people can’t. This would kill competition, kill freedom of information, and kill the Internet as we’ve come to know and love it. Though the companies argue that they funded the broadband networks, MPO and the petitioners recognize the fact that the basic infrastructure was publicly funded, with private companies providing only the ‘last mile’ of wiring. Essentially, these companies want to take a public resource—the pipes and wires that make the Internet work—and privatize them for profit.’”

Alex looked up as Camila emerged wearing a white swimsuit top and the new orange cloth tied into a skirt just below her navel. “You look amazing.”

She looked at him and smiled. “You know how I said I’m not very political? If I was gonna be, it would be about net neutrality.”

“Why?”

“She’s right about the Internet. Most of it was designed and built with Pentagon money. Now a handful of companies want to privatize the profit. If I were teaching this week, I’d be laying out how the press plays a huge role in shaping our identities—how we see ourselves and know ourselves—and how the net is the first time in a long time that there’s been a chance for a real diversification of voices. Not that information alone will save anyone, but it’s a decent start. And the fact that Standard Media and others want to control the Internet can’t be anything but bad for actual people.”

* * *

They jogged down the beach toward town, the sun peeking over the hills to their right and casting long shadows on the beach. “MPO is one of the most savvy and well-organized media groups,” Alex said. “They’re not very big, but they’re growing, probably because of the influx of cash from Hollinger. So, let’s say it’s true that he was going to take five hundred million out of Standard Media and give it to MPO. That would hammer the stock, right? But Standard Media is finalizing the deal to merge with Nation Corp. and—”

“Gotta . . . walk . . . for . . . a . . . minute,” Camila stammered between breaths. “I . . . know about . . . the deal.”

They slowed to a walk.

“It’s not the time you want a world-famous financial guru divesting,” Alex said. “And it’s also not the time you want him giving five hundred million to a company that’s going to do everything in its power to keep the deal from happening. Can you imagine the negative PR they could have thrown on the deal with that money?” Alex gave her a nudge and they started jogging again.

“I don’t think they could have stopped it,” Camila said, still trying to catch her breath. “Even with all that money.”

“Maybe not. But if Sonia is right about Sadie’s persistence, she could have caused a lot of headaches.”

Camila looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, she’s ’Sonia’ now? What happened to ‘Mrs. Hollinger’?”

“Jealous?”

She ran ahead of him a few steps. She was sweating and her skin had reddened.

“Try to land on your mid-foot, not your heel,” Alex said. “So anyway, Hollinger tells Green and Martin that he’s planning to make this move with his money. Let’s say that’s during the summer before 9/11.”

“Okay.”

“And then he dies on 9/11 before he could actually do any of it. At some point in October, maybe November, Sadie Green meets with Sonia and starts spreading rumors that Hollinger was going to make this move.”

“Yeah.”

“And then Martin says something to Bice at the funeral in December, showing that he knew Hollinger’s plans.”

“And then . . . Bice . . . has Martin killed.” Camila was out of breath and slowed to a walk again.

Alex took her hand and they turned back toward the hotel. “If all that’s true,” he said, “then I have four questions. First, how and when did Hollinger tell Martin about his plans? Second, who else might Hollinger have mentioned his plans to? I can understand not telling Sonia, given their relationship, but maybe he mentioned it to one of his lawyers or financial advisors. Even if he didn’t start making the move yet, he must have consulted someone. Third, if Hollinger told Martin, did Martin tell anyone else before he was killed?”

“He wouldn’t have. He was constantly lost in his writing and barely thought about that kind of thing. If he didn’t tell me, he wouldn’t have told anyone else.” She pulled her hand gently out of his. “What’s your fourth question?”

“What kind of man is Denver Bice? What I mean is, if you learn about Hollinger’s plans in October or November, then learn that Martin knew about them in December, why resort to murder? The law doesn’t care if Hollinger
contemplated
changing his will. Bice must have known about the rumors for weeks before the interaction with Martin at the funeral. And Martin wasn’t the only one who knew. Nothing was going to change, so why have Martin killed?”

“So you’re saying he must have had another reason to want Martin dead? I don’t know, maybe he was just being super-cautious. When I met him, he seemed like someone who was very practiced at concealing explosive rage. He came off as polite, even affable. But I could tell that he was the kind of guy who could get angry quickly if something didn’t go as planned.”

“I guess you don’t get to where he is without being a bit megalomaniacal.” They were approaching the hotel and Alex stopped and looked at her. “It comes down to what I said: what kind of man is Denver Bice?”

Alex’s phone vibrated in his pocket.
Juan
. He flipped it open. “Are you ready to tell us what you wanted to tell us?”

“Yes, meet me at the pier by your hotel at three o’clock today.”

WHEN THEY
CAME BACK
from their run, Camila toweled off and changed clothes, then went straight to the buffet. Alex took a quick shower, then called the courthouse.

Bearon picked up on the first ring. “You shouldn’t be calling me here,” he said.

“I need some help,” Alex said, walking out to the balcony. “I’ll be quick.”

“You better.”

First, Alex quizzed him on the Santiago trial, but Bearon knew nothing more than Alex had learned from the online reports and TV. “Sharp really seems to be enjoying himself,” Bearon said. “Making sure to enter and exit with witnesses, leaking stuff to journalists. He’s gonna be the most well-known Democrat in the city off this case.”

“That’s what I called to ask you about. I mean, if Santiago is innocent, couldn’t that bring even
more
profile to the case?”

“What do you mean?” Bearon asked.

Alex closed one eye and focused the other on a wave moving toward the beach. “Sharp already has a good prosecution record. No one can call him soft on crime. To be mayor in a couple years, he needs money and exposure, right? And maybe some of the far-left voters?”

“He’s already getting the exposure.”

“But what if the case had some huge twist that wasn’t his fault? Wouldn’t that raise his profile even more?”

“I guess, but what are you getting at?” Bearon asked.

Alex paced the balcony. “Think about it. What if
he’s
the guy who’s been calling me? Maybe he
wants
the case to explode. If Santiago is innocent, Sharp would get national exposure. Meanwhile, he appears magnanimous by dropping the case, blaming the police department. That would play well with some of the left-leaning voters.”

“No way.”

“I’m not saying I’m sure, but keep an eye out for me, will you? What are you hearing about the Demarcus Downton investigation?”

“Well, folks from
The Post
are telling everyone that the police used the sketch from their story to ID a Ukrainian assassin named Dimitri Rak.”

“Sounds like
The Post
,” Alex said. “Rak? Like R-A-K?”

“Yeah, Dimitri Rak. Once the police matched the sketch to the name, it leaked within five minutes. Apparently, he’s already suspected in the killing of a member of the Polish legislature and a theater bombing in Belarus. Everyone is talking about it, but no one knows why a professional like him would kill a small-time pot dealer in Brooklyn. All sorts of theories flying around.”

“Are there any rumors about a possible connection to the Santiago trial?” Alex asked.

“What? No. But there will be now. What’s the connection?”

Alex watched a gecko crawl across the balcony. “Rak killed Professor Martin, too. I know how and I think I know why.”

“What?”

“Bearon, I need you to listen. I can’t say anything more but I wouldn’t mind if that rumor somehow slipped out, especially to anyone involved in the Downton investigation or the Santiago trial.”

“If you’re in Hawaii working the story, why would you want that leaked? Don’t you want the scoop?”

“I wouldn’t mind the scoop,” Alex said, “but I may not be able to break the story in any real way. Meanwhile, I’ve got to get Santiago off.”

“Are you sure on this? If I spread this around, I could end up looking like a prophet or a fool.”

“Have I ever been wrong? I mean on something like this?”

“There’s never
been
anything like this,” Bearon said.

“I guess that’s true. And Bearon, one last thing. You cannot, must not, mention my name or where I am. Just say enough to get people to look into it. If you need to, mention a bartender named Damian Bale. He has information the police may be ignoring.”

* * *

Camila returned to their room from the buffet and handed Alex a plate piled high with eggs and steamed vegetables.

“Thanks.” He pointed to a napkin tied into a pouch in her other hand. “What’s that?”

“For later,” she said, unfolding the napkin and setting two blueberry muffins on the desk. She handed Alex a couple of pieces of folded paper. “Did a little research. That’s everything I could find on the Internet about Hollinger divesting.”

Alex scanned the articles. Both were short pieces printed in October 2001—one from
The Standard
and one from
The Post
. Both quoted only one unnamed source. He crumpled them up and threw them across the room into the garbage. “Just business gossip. Nothing substantial,” he said. “Looks like Green didn’t have much luck spreading her rumor around.”

“I guess not. Did you reach Bearon?”

“Yeah, and I forgot to tell you, I researched Sharp a bit. Looks like you could be right about him sabotaging the Santiago case.”

“So, what’s your next move?”

“I don’t think it will do any good, but, after we find out what Juan knows, I’m gonna call him.”