Excerpt
Stout reached for the sugar. “You don’t want to mess with this
son. I’m a powerful man around here.”
“Yes,” Pease said, “So is the mayor. This thing is no longer a
secret, Mr. Stout.”
Stout breathed as if stirring his coffee was a workout. He plied
the spoon with concentration, looking into the cup.
“Why should I believe you?” he said, working more sugar into
his coffee, lifting his eyes toward Pease without raising his head.
Pease thought he had the aspect of a dog deciding whether to bite a
stranger or submit to him. “How do I know Torgerson talked
about this?”
“What did Pearson tell you?”
“Pearson’s scared.”
“It must be an uncomfortable feeling.”
“Look, Ned, I was born in this town, lived here all my life. I’ve
been on the council for nine years, done good work in the community.
I’m not saying anything one way or the other, but don’t you
think all this stuff from the past, whatever it is, just oughta stay in
the past?”
Pease watched the big man wipe his spoon with a paper napkin
and take a tentative sip from his cup. Perspiration was forming just
below Stout’s hairline. Pease said nothing. The silence lasted nine
or ten seconds.
“You can do a story without using names,” Stout said.
“Not this one, councilman. I have the names.”
“And names make news, right? Maybe that’s the trouble with
news.”
“Could be.”
“Where’s all this going to lead, anyway? What does it matter?”
Stout said.
“It matters, councilman.”
“Does Winifred Stone know about this? I know the Stones,
know them very well.”
The dog is growling, Pease thought.
Manolis Aligizakis 