Deadline Read Online Free PDF Page B

goddamn hearts out. Two men descended on the grave and filled it in with shovels and spades. The minister, one of six retired preachers who rotated on the coroner’s list, had said a few words over the grave, then went away with the caretaker of the cemetery, leaving only Walker, his photographer and the men with the shovels to stay to the end. When the men were finished, a bulldozer moved in and leveled off the earth, leaving not as much as a mound to show that someone was buried here. Walker sent the photog back to the paper alone. He wanted some time at graveside. He sat on the brown grass and watched the wind blow the clouds across the sky. He took note of that: what kind of day it was, how far down the hill the grave was placed, how far away the trees were. It would all go in, and woe to any editor who messed with it. This was one he would have to baby-sit all the way through the backshop and onto Page One.
    There was never any doubt in his mind that it was front-page stuff. He put in everything he had learned in six interviews with the coroner. All the weeks of checking and hoping. The false leads, the one trail that had led to Cincinnati before petering out. The chemical analysis, the fingerprints taken from the unburned hand, the long waits between agencies while reports were compiled and sent back. All negative. Walker wrote it like a short story, beginning with a soft description of the graveyard, then backing into the eulogy by the minister. He flashed back from the graveyard to the coroner’s office, and told about the long fruitless search for the little girl’s identity. Then he moved back to the present, to graveside and the end of the minister’s speech. He finished up in four or five quick lines, giving it a hollow, haunting ending as the men moved in and covered up the hole. He typed in his byline and in big, bold letters wrote the words NO CUTS across the top of the first take. It would drive them crazy on the desk, but they wouldn’t touch it. They wouldn’t dare.
    Kanin edited the piece. The words NO CUTS hit him like a slap. His eyes, reflecting anger and insult, held Walker’s for a long time before he began to read. Quite deliberately, he pushed aside his copy pencil. When he was finished, he hand-delivered the copy to the news desk and talked briefly with the news editor. When all that was done, he came to Walker’s desk.
    “As long as you’re telling us how great you are, why not write Page One on it too?”
    Walker smiled but Kanin’s face was cold.
    “I’ve told them to banner it across the top of One, just above the main news lead. Does that satisfy you?”
    “That’s fine, Joe.”
    “It’s a hell of a reader.”
    Walker didn’t say anything. He didn’t think Kanin expected thanks.
    “No use pretending I like you, Walker. I think you’re undisciplined and arrogant and have no respect for anybody else. But I know good work when I get it. We’ll be putting a copyright on your piece and sending it along to the chain. See, Walker, I can do something right. Even for you.”
    Walker went up to the cafeteria and sat unwinding over coffee. When he came back, there were two messages on his spike. Donovan had called, and Diana Yoder had left a New York number. The Yoder girl was a real surprise. But he couldn’t reach either Yoder or Donovan with return calls, so he settled in to await the paper’s arrival from the press room. When the proof came up, he read through every word in the story, chasing in a correction where the typesetter had typoed the coroner’s name.
    It was done and on the street. But if his hunch was right, it was just bait for the real story. Walker put on his coat and stalked out of the newsroom. The day was just half finished, but he wouldn’t be back. Everyone watched him go. No one said a word.
    He tried his calls again from his apartment. Donovan was still out, but Diana Yoder answered at once. “Yes, Mr. Walker, thank you for returning my call. This morning