The Big Fix by Nathan Sacks

Author:Nathan Sacks
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lerner Publishing Group

CHAPTER SEVEN

The next morning, when George arrived in Van Johnson’s office, someone else was seated in the chair across from the editor’s desk. It was the woman that Van had briefly mentioned earlier.

A female reporter, George thought. He had heard of such a thing but rarely seen it. Certainly in England, a woman was expected to be seen and not heard, the opposite of what was expected from a newspaperman. Journalism was thought to be a man’s profession. George assumed this was just as true in the States.

Van looked up from his desk, where he and the woman were going over some writing. “George, you have an article for me today?”

“Not today, Van.”

“George, you’ve turned wasting my time into an art. I want you to meet Holly Quine, our ‘stunt’ reporter.’”

“What does that mean?” George asked.

“It means a woman can’t be a successful journalist unless given a silly name, Mr. Choogart,” Holly said.

Van spoke: “I wanted to introduce you to Holly so you can compare notes on Big Jim Dickinson. You are still looking at the Dickinson story, right?”

“Not only that,” George replied, “but I’m feeling out a major scoop.”

“Tell me no more, George. I’m going to step out for some breakfast. Feel free to continue to talk to Holly. Or don’t—I definitely do not care.”

The editor stepped out of the building. George and Holly were alone. Holly had a serious face and a small nose. George could tell, from her expression alone, how sharp she was.

“Mr. Choogart, for the last several months I have been running undercover operations for the Times. I assume you’ve heard of the Tweed scandal?”

“Boss Tweed?” George said. “I heard he purloined millions of dollars from city citizens.”

“Try billions, Mr. Choogart. I helped bring the Times the information that brought Tweed down last year.”

“Congratulations,” George said. “That’s quite an accomplishment.”

“For a woman, you mean? Don’t bother with your half-compliments, Mr. Choogart. I’m a better journalist than anyone in this building, including you.”

“Sorry.”

“Apologies are also unnecessary,” Holly said. “My point is that Tweed was locked up, but the system that allowed Tammany Hall to rob us is still in place. My belief is that Big Jim Dickinson is the new ringleader, but I’ve yet to find proof.”

“How do you know?”

“I am allowed access to certain places that male journalists are not. I can pretend to be a moronic, man-obsessed society woman, and in return the men of Tammany Hall provide me favors and information. When they least expect it, of course.”

“But you still have nothing solid against Dickinson.”

“Not yet,” Holly said. “He is more secretive than Tweed, less prone to parading his wealth for everyone to see. Make no mistake—he gorges on fancy duck, pork tenderloin, all the finest foods, while the rest of us starve. The difference is he doesn’t eat in public.”

“I understand. So you need my help.”

“Have you found anything?” Holly asked.

“Yes. But I would prefer to keep it to myself for now. It’s my story, after all.”

Holly Quine frowned and then spoke very slowly.

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