Deadline by Gerry Boyle Read Free Book Online

Review hadn’t backed off, but we’d published the reaction of town officials, which had been indignant. We’d had a slew of letters to the editor on the issue. They ran three to one in favor of St. Amand, with the only support coming from a few militant union people, some regular crackpots, and a woman who had run for town council the year before and lost because people thought she was a hippie.
    I was damned by faint praise.
    â€œSo, hey,” Curry said, presumptuously pulling up a chair near my desk. “I think I’m gonna be able to do something to clear this thing up.”
    â€œThe drowning?”
    â€œNo, no. I mean the tax thing. I’d like to put this issue to bed, and I’m sure you would, too.”
    â€œWhy would I want to do that?” I said.
    Curry tried to laugh but it came out a snort or a cough. “No, really. I think I’m gonna be able to do something that will save us both a hell of a lot of trouble, and this town, too.”
    He said hell . That meant we were really talking man to man.
    â€œSo are you going to tell me or do I have to trick it out of you?” I said.
    Another snort.
    â€œNo, Jack,” Curry said. “I can tell you, but you’ve got to understand that it isn’t a hundred percent confirmed. But I think I can get you Haze Gavin.”
    â€œHow do I get rid of it once I’ve got it?”
    â€œCome on, Jack. Haze Gavin. T. Hazelwood Gavin. He’s the CEO of Quinn-Hillson. The parent company of St. Amand. Calls the shots. And baby, believe me, Gavin doesn’t sit down and talk with just anybody.”
    â€œMust be nice,” I said. “What’s he want to come here for?”
    â€œWell, he wouldn’t come here. But I can get you an interview with him by phone. Maybe a conference call with a couple of the executive VPs. Everything out in the open. The abatement. The Georgia mills. Our long-term plans for Androscoggin. The whole goddamn thing laid right out.”
    â€œThe gospel according to St. Amand Paper.”
    â€œNo. This isn’t a press release. Ask the tough questions. Dish it out. Do a Q and A. Print the entire interview. If the company isn’t forthcoming, the town will know it. But we’ve got nothing to hide. If we did, we wouldn’t be coming to you like this.”
    â€œI think you’re worried you might lose this one, and you figure twenty minutes of Gavin’s time is worth half a million bucks.”
    â€œJack, you are one cynical newsman,” Curry said.
    Snort.
    â€œNo, David, I’m just pulling your leg a little. If T. Hazelwood Gavin wants to chat, I’d be glad to chew the fat with him. But no preconditions.”
    â€œNope. What I’ve told you is what he wants. You’ll like him, Jack. Haze Gavin is a straight shooter. Hell of a good guy.”
    And doesn’t know you from a rat’s ass, I was thinking, when Cindy came around the corner.
    â€œJack, there’s a Mrs. Morrison on the phone. From the middle school? She said you were supposed to be there ten minutes ago to talk to the sixth grade?”
    â€œHey, let me get out of your way, Jack,” Curry said, grabbing his coat.
    Damn, I thought. I loved journalism.
    â€œTell her I’m on my way,” I said, and I was.
    â€œI’ll call you,” Curry said.
    â€œNo doubt,” I muttered as I went out the door.
    Mrs. Morrison wasn’t pleased. She was a big, tanned cross-country skier type who didn’t appear to take anything from anybody, andthat included newspaper editors who stood her kids up. I smiled and apologized but she still gave me the chill as we walked down the yellow-tiled halls with the construction-paper pictures taped on them. I knew we were close to the class in question when the pictures had progressed from kindergarten-primitive to fifth-grade postimpressionist. Some of the stuff was pretty good and some of it wasn’t.
    But all of it was