released him, and he sheepishly walked over to the counter.
“And make sure the fucking thing doesn’t fall on the floor this time.”
The sandwich was good, mainly because it was free. The guy apologized at least seven times, the little bastard. Maybe I should let him drop my sandwich more often. You can’t beat the price. Maybe I was a little too hard on the guy behind the counter. I wasn’t feeling guilty or anything, but it wasn’t exactly the wisest thing I could have done considering everything else that was going on, but I am a victim of my own moods and emotions, like everyone else I guess.
I stood by the car, smoking a cigarette and giving my plan a once over in my mind. I had Jacob on my side, I had Uncle Paulie working with me, and everyone else was lumped together in the pile I called “assholes.” Hey, I never said I was creative.
I knew I had to try and get what I could out of Steve. Considering his background, this wasn’t going to be easy by any stretch of the imagination. He’d probably been trained when it comes to interrogation, so I would have to just play on his emotions, and hope that he blurted something out that I could use.
For the time being, however, I didn’t have much to do. I had the tape, well, the digital video, which was more than enough to clear my name when put into the right hands. But what hands were those? In a perfect world, Geiger was the man to bring the video to. In reality, he hadn’t done anything wrong to me that I could prove, other than making me feel I couldn’t trust him. I had been riding a wave of luck recently. Talking to Geiger was risky, especially with my new relationship with Jacob, but I felt the urge to just go there and find out what would happen. From what I knew, Geiger hated Agnelli, and any evidence I had that Agnelli was up to no good would make him happy. I was at the point where I really didn’t care. It wasn’t like Geiger was going to do anything to me if I went in to see him. At the least, he would have to keep up appearances while at the precinct.
My thought process, though at times excellent, gets me in more trouble than anything else. While on my way to Geiger, I ran a bunch of scenarios through my mind as to what would happen when I got there. I thought he might be all smiles, then do something to the camera so I wouldn’t be able to use it. As hard as it was to believe Geiger would be in cahoots with Agnelli, I kept thinking that might be the case. After all, he had continued a bullshit investigation while I was gone. Another scenario included me beating the crap out of Rick, who I hoped would not be there. It was an entertaining scenario, as unrealistic as it was. Well, it wasn’t that unrealistic.
Here’s the thing with the tape. You see, even though I hated Agnelli and Chapman for what they had done to me and the countless other people who had gotten in their way, using the tape was a tricky thing. Once the tape got around, a lot of upheaval would follow, and I would become the focus of some major attention. No matter how good my intentions would be, many people would consider me nothing more than a troublemaker, someone whose only goal is to bring chaos. Not everyone would side with me and, as much as I could give a rat’s ass about what people think, I didn’t want my life to change so drastically. And it would, real fast.
Geiger would also be aware of such consequences. He might have told me to lay low with the tape and hope everything else works out. By doing so, he would raise more suspicions about himself in my mind, and I would be worse off than I already was. I’ll tell you, these things are never easy.
I was no more than four blocks away from the precinct when I decided to abort the mission. Meeting Geiger was the wrong idea, I had convinced myself, and even though it would cause chaos beyond my wildest dreams, the best thing to do was put the tape in the hands of someone who could bring it to the public, without anyone ever knowing it was me who did it.
From living in the city for so long, I knew where all the major networks were. I am no fan of network television, so I had no preference as to who got the tape. I made the decision based on location, and the closest network was NBC. I pulled up to the building where the fabled Rainbow Room was located, walked in the front door, and was greeted with yet another security guard.
“Can I help you?” the middle-aged man with a thick moustache said.
“Yeah, I need to speak to someone at NBC news,” I said.
“You do, do you?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
“Do you know who it is you need to see?”
“No.”
“Then I cannot help you.”
I got tired of this routine. Everywhere I went, I got some form of attitude. It would end right here with this guy, whether he liked it or not.
“Listen, get on your phone there, and tell whoever it is that runs NBC news that someone is down here with substantial information regarding two very powerful people in this city. Tell them I’ll give an exclusive on major corruption in the city but only if they get their ass down here right now. You got that?”
He looked at me sort of sideways, but I saw that he realized I meant business. Maybe it was the look on my face, or perhaps because I didn’t say I wanted to go upstairs.
“Give me a minute.”
He got on the phone, and I walked around the entrance for a few minutes, figuring that he was going to tell me he was unsuccessful. It took a while, and I was outside smoking a cigarette when a guy in a white oxford shirt came to greet me. “Sir?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, extinguishing my cigarette on the sidewalk.
“I’m told you have some information for NBC news?”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Donald Mustac, assistant producer for NBC. I was on my way downstairs when the guy called up.”
“You know who Harold Chapman is?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“What about Richard Agnelli?”
“Heard of him.”
Mustac was playing this off smoothly.
I pulled the camera out of the case.
“This camera contains a conversation between the two which I think you and the rest of the city would find very interesting.”
“Okay. And who are you?”
“An interested party who is uninterested in having his name go public,” I said.
“Does this involve Mullins?”
Good question. “Not exactly.”
“What’s on there?”
“I think it would be best if you viewed it yourself.”
“Do you have another copy of the tape?” Mustac asked.
“It’s not a tape, it’s digital.”
“Can I borrow that camera?”
“No. I need you to make a copy of it yourself.”
“And you want me to bring this public?”
“If you feel the need to. I can’t say what you will want to do with that. But I get the feeling you may want an exclusive on this.”
He looked me over for a second, and I saw a look of recognition in his eyes. How stupid could I be? After being in the spotlight with the Mullins case, I should have known that anyone involved in the media would recognize my face.
“I can’t afford to have my name attached to this,” I said. “I hope you can see why.”
“I understand.”
“Can you make a copy?”
He nodded. “Come on upstairs.”
“I’d rather not. But I do need that back immediately.”
“Give me five minutes.”
I handed him the camera, knowing the risk I was taking by doing so, and lit up another cigarette. This guy could screw me royally, but I really had no other choice. I could have waited for Jacob to make me a copy, but I had made my decision, and had no other choice but to stick by it.
It took Mustac about twenty minutes, or three cigarettes if you want to count it that way. I had that burning feeling in the back of my throat from smoking too much in a short period of time.
Mustac came down with the camera and handed it to me. He had a strange look on his face, one of those looks that
showed he was in deep thought.
“That was some interesting stuff,” he said.
“Told you.”
“I might catch hell for airing it.”
“That’s your call. I just want you to have it in your possession. It would do me some good as well.”
“In case something happens?” Mustac asked.
“Something like that.”
“I think I’m going to air it, so you know. Just in case that changes anything for you.”
“I appreciate the heads up.”
“No problem. Be careful.”
I put the camera back in the bag, shook Mustac’s hand, and went on my merry way. I knew he’d look at it while he copied it. It was impossible for someone in his business to pass up. Also, he might have thought I was full of shit, and just wanted to make sure I didn’t give him home movies of me porking my girlfriend. As interesting as those might have been, I don’t think they would have been of any use to him.
On the way to my car, I decided to call Geiger and give him an idea of what was going on. I wasn’t going to give my plans away, but, if he was actually on my side, I figured he could use the advance notice that something big might happen. I owed him at least that courtesy.
“Geiger,” he said when he picked up his line.
“Hey Boss,” I said.
“Where the Hell have you been?” he asked. He didn’t sound happy. “I thought we were going to talk.
“I’ve been busy,” I said.
“I’ve been catching shit because of you.”
“I don’t really think that’s my fault, Boss. That was going to happen either way.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure of a phone call?”
“Listen, I don’t really know why what’s going