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are of 〃home movies〃…coroner…with…a…camcorder…style reference tapes of autopsies and murders and the occasional bizarro demise。
They all paled as the camera pleted its trip around the world。
It spiraled in on a very dead Mike； held on his crushed and flattened countenance。 His glasses were smashed into sharp little pizza…pie slices that dug into the soft cheek skin。 His upper lip was split clear to his nostril； revealing shattered fulcrum over bloody； prominent teeth。 There was a grin of sorts on his face； the sick little rictus of a member of the studio audience suddenly hauled up and quizzed by the host。
Hi mom。
More shots of Dead Mike came up； all broadcast…quality： Dead Mike obscured by weeds； Dead Mike from a tastefully airable angle； Dead Mike's hand； sticking up like a sad little tree。 Gary turned up the fader on the audio track。
No tears。 No sobs。 No heartfelt outpourings of panic。
Just the ghoulishly methodical attention to detail。
The screen blipped； and the Dead Mike shots mercifully abated。
〃Oh my God；〃 Laura repeated。 She felt suddenly very ill。 This was a man she'd allowed inside her； and the fact of it left her feeling horribly unclean； like there weren't enough baths in the world to scrub the Kirk…scum off her skin。
Gary's reaction was far more basic。
〃I'll kill him；〃 he muttered； punching the controls； rewinding the tape。 〃I'll break that little weasel…assed bastard in half。〃
〃Let's just hold on a second；〃 Laura said。 She was fighting to remain levelheaded here； amidst a Gordian tangle of conflicting emotion。 〃We don't have all the facts in 。。。 〃
〃Yeah； right；〃 Gary cut in； cleaving right through it。 He hit the 〃play〃 button； and Dead Mike came back up on the screen； the slow vulture loop closing in。
〃I think we've got all the facts we need。〃
〃No；〃 Laura said。 〃We don't。〃 Gary glared at her； Laura stood her ground。 She took a deep； quavering breath。 I will not throw up； she thought desperately。 I will not throw up。 〃Look；〃 she insisted； 〃this is getting to me； too； okay？ But there's a larger issue here。〃
〃Name one；〃 Gary snorted and stared。
Laura grabbed the ledge of the console； fighting for internal control。 〃Someone or something is out there。〃 No。 Lines of thought； racing toward each other like colliding freight trains in her skull。 〃It's already killed one man 。。。 〃 I will not。 〃 。。。 and God only knows what's on the back of that truck。〃 I will not 。。。 〃We could have a serious hazard to the munity here。〃
〃Not to mention a hell of a great exclusive story；〃 Gary added bitterly。 He hit the 〃pause〃 button for emphasis； Dead Mike's hand halted in mid…wave。
〃Not to mention；〃 Laura said； her eyes flaring。
。。。 I WILL NOT THROW UP 。。。
Downstairs； the scanner was humming； and the radio beckoned。 Kirk was out there somewhere。 It frightened her to admit it； but if anyone stood to know what was happening； it was him。
〃I'm going to find out what the hell's going on here；〃 she said； abruptly getting to her feet。 〃You do what you have to do。〃
Laura turned and left the studio； heading back to the newsroom； counting the steps。 She rounded the er without looking back； ducked quietly into the ladies' room。 Then she turned on all the faucets； filled the room with roaring sound。
And heaved till she thought she'd die。
Back in Studio B； Gary ran the tape back； forcing himself to watch。 He hit the 〃pause〃 button； Mike's dead； mangled hand loomed on the monitors。
〃You jerk 。。。 〃 Gary whispered； tears welling up in his eyes。
Mike's frozen image beckoned。 They went thataway。 Gary groaned。
And against his better judgment； he followed。
Twenty…Six
Following Harold's epiphany； atonement seemed only natural。
By two o'clock； he had assembled the necessary documentation。 Correction： evidence； he amended mentally。 The little TV on the top of the file cabinet was turned on； to distract his stray anxieties and keep him pany。 The Eagles had just scored against the Giants in Philly； there were a couple of minutes left in the first quarter of their big interconference rivalry。 And they were tied； for first place。
Two cardboard file boxes stuffed to capacity with invoices and ledgers sat on the desk before him。 Sleeves rolled up to his elbows； Harold sifted and packed； names； dates； dispensation； payments； and even a special log on kickbacks。 Werner's right； he thought； we've been playing way too fast and loose。 It's high time we cleaned up our act 。。。
Starting right here。
Harry whistled as he worked； for the first time in ages； he knew he was doing the right thing。 He was still nervous； still sweating； but now it was the clean sweat of penance； cool on his skin。 He was scared； true； almost giddy with the exhilaration of his newfound sense of being part of a greater Whole。 He could really feel the Spirit moving through him。 He was certain there was a special place for him in God's great design。 A gaping hole had opened like a sore on the hide of business…as…usual in Paradise and the nation； a virulent ethical infection； and Harold Leonard was by God going to heal it。
The first step was to clean the wound。
Harry smiled； his was truly the Lord's work。 If he closed his eyes； he could practically picture it： the fissures cracking in a hundred hypocritical veneers； the poison of lies and deceit leaking from them like a hundred lanced boils。 Messy at first； certainly； but essentially 。。。
〃S'cuse me；〃 a voice said from across the room。
〃YAH！〃 Harry screeched。
He snapped out of his vision and whirled in an ungainly pirouette to face the man standing in the doorway。 He was late thirties/early forties； with a peppered black mustache and tan； pocked skin。 Dressed in jeans and flannel； muddy work boots； and a dusty plaid hunting jacket； he clutched a sweat…stained； web…backed CAT cap in his hands and stood with the antsy shuffle of a working stiff unfortable in offices。
〃R'you Leonard？〃 he said； thumbing at the sign on the door and smiling unfortably。
〃No； I； uh 。。。 〃 Harold stammered； flustered。 〃I mean； yes； I am。〃
〃Name's Bill Teague；〃 the man said。 〃An' I was hopin' you could help me out some。〃
Harry posed himself； became Harold； officious and innately suspicious。 〃I'm sorry； but we're closed today；〃 he said。
〃Please； mister 。。。 〃 Bill blurted with the nervous clench of a man in a bind。 〃I got a problem。 I； uh 。。。 〃 He paused then； swallowing as if forcing down a lump of undigested food。 〃See； I got a little 'lectroplate shop； down Hellam way。 I do okay； you know； I mean； business has been pretty good and all lately。〃 He shrugged。 〃Just got me a contract to do some circuit boards for ICC and a couple other things。〃
〃That's good；〃 Harold said； nodding uneasily。
〃Yeah； well； that's the good news；〃 Bill Teague sighed。 〃The bad news is that I'm a little too busy。〃
Harold nodded。
〃I mean； who has the damn space for all that seg…ree…gation and shit that the gov'ment wants。〃 Teague shuffled antsily。 〃It's a crock； you ask me。〃
〃Anyway。〃 He halted； resumed。 〃I； uh 。。。 I been storing my runoff in mon drums。 Used to take it down to the landfill near Felton； but they won't take any more of my loads。 Say it's too dangerous。〃 He spat the last word contemptuously。
〃Gee； I'm sorry to hear that；〃 Harold said。 〃Life's a bitch。〃
〃You got that right。〃 Bill Teague sighed exasperatedly and moseyed past Harold and his desk； toward the window。 Harold turned； tracking with him。 Harold's new…found ethics were delicate things； not up to the pounding。 He wanted very badly for the man to go。
Bill Teague looked out the window。 Harold looked at Bill Teague。 〃Listen； I 。。。 〃 Harold began。
〃Goddam DeeEeeArr；〃 Bill Teague interrupted。 He turned； regarded Harold with a kind of wounded pride。 〃What the hell am I suppose to do？ Hell； I know it's dangerous。 But I got babies to feed。〃
Harold sympathized。 Bill Teague looked at him； then away again。 Unfortable。 The Eagles…Giants game gave way to mercials and a test by the Emergency Broadcast System。
〃Anyway；〃 he said； 〃I hear you can take a load off people's hands。 I'm desperate to get rid of it。〃
There was an urgency in the man's tone that got under Harold's skin。 A truncated version of a deep baritone boomed from the television's tinny speaker。 This is a test 。。。 it said。
〃I'm sorry；〃 Harold said； shaking his head。
〃I'll pay；〃 Bill Teague offered； still staring out the window。 〃Top dollar。〃
For the next sixty seconds this station will be conducting a test 。。。
〃I don't think I can help you；〃 Harold reiterated； stepping forward； feigning calm as his heart pummeled his ribcage like a prizefighter。
〃Please； mister；〃 Bill Teague pleaded。 〃I got nowhere else to go。〃
This is only a test 。。。
〃I really can't help you right now；〃 Harold said； punctuating it with a deep breath of finality。 〃I'm very sorry。〃
Bill Teague sighed and turned around to face Harold。 〃I understand； and I respect that；〃 he said。 He smiled resignedly and held out his left hand。 〃Thanks for your time。〃
Harold extended his left hand in return。 They clasped fi