Scrublands by Chris Hammer

Author:Chris Hammer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Allen & Unwin
Published: 2018-06-06T16:00:00+00:00

Before getting down to writing, Martin has relented, providing commentary for Doug Thunkleton and his rivals, all without revealing his new angle. Thankfully they’ve disappeared down to the resort in Bellington, leaving him to work in peace at the club. He extracts enough bandwidth from the recalcitrant wi-fi to file, then calls through first to Bethanie and then Max from the phone in the club foyer.

‘Yeah, okay, Martin, I’ve got it now. Looks good. Good stuff. Bethanie’s got a couple of minor additions, but it’s certainly a new angle.’

‘You don’t seem too enthused.’

‘To be honest, I’m not,’ says the editor.

‘You’re joking, right? The Herald out in front of the police? What could be better?’

‘You’re right. Sorry, champ. I’ve just been getting a lot of shit on this story. The editorial board have got their knickers in a knot. They’re demanding everything be legalled and fact-checked. They’re insisting on being kept in the loop.’

‘What? Three front pages in a row and they’re not happy? We own this story, Max. Look at the TV news tonight. I’m on most of them: the expert from the Herald. What more do they want?’

‘Accuracy, apparently.’

‘Shit, Max. What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Well, in no short time we have reported that Harley James Snouch is the primary murder suspect and an alleged rapist. With no substantive evidence of either. Then we all but convict Reverend Swift of the murders. That was in your stories in today’s paper, if you’ll recall. Today’s, Martin. And tomorrow’s splash is that Swift is probably innocent. To be honest, some of those upstairs are asking if you’re up to it.’

Martin is silent for a moment, taken aback by the allegation, before he feels a surge of defensive anger swelling.

‘What do you think, Max? Do you think that?’

‘No, I don’t. You have my utter confidence and trust.’ The reply comes immediately and with conviction.

Martin breathes out, some of the anger dissipating. Good old Max: a journo’s journo, an editor’s editor.

‘Thanks, Max, I appreciate it. But I really am reporting it as it happens to the best of my ability. It’s why the cops aren’t talking much on the record; they don’t know where this is heading either. They’d put all their eggs in the Byron Swift basket before this new info—I was reporting that one hundred per cent accurately. And I know they haven’t ruled Snouch out altogether. It could turn out that we were right all along.’

‘Well, keep at it. How much longer do you think you’ll need to be down there? It’s already been a week.’

‘What? As long as it takes. It’s the biggest story in the country. And I still want to do the feature piece, the original piece. That’s for next weekend. The anniversary of the shooting. As for the daily news stuff, who knows? The police investigation might peter out, or it could bust wide open.’

‘Fair enough. But, Martin, we’ve had a good run with it. It doesn’t have to be front page every day.’

‘What’s that mean?’

‘That means you don’t have anything to prove.

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