or hiding in the folds of a mother’s skirt. And the truth behind the photo wasn’t the only cause. What needled him more, as Lily noted long ago, was how the family’s hardships had boosted his career. The higher he rose, the uglier that fact became. By busying himself with reports of corruption and scandals, he’d done his best to forget.
“Did your friend find you?”
Ellis was so immersed in his thoughts it took him a moment to realize the question was for him, and even longer to trace it to the man standing at his desk.
“Your lady friend,” Dutch clarified. “She was asking around at Bleeck’s. I’d heard you talking about hitting the Royal with your folks. Figured you’d want me to pass it along.”
Ellis narrowed his eyes, the series of events clicking together. At the same time, he was grasping the idea of speaking with Dutch at all. “Yeah. She did.”
“Oh. Good.”
In the background, someone launched a paper plane and a phone rang. A reporter yelled for a copy boy.
Dutch adjusted the pencil behind his ear. He lingered until awkwardness strained the air. When he edged away, Ellis failed to add anything more.
What would be fitting to say? The last they’d spoken was months ago. Soon after the City Hall blunder, Dutch had made two attempts at a flimsy apology.
All right, fine. In hindsight, they might have been genuine. The pressure of a new baby, combining a lack of sleep and desperation to keep his job, had led to “a gutless choice,” Dutch had said. Evidently, when Mr. Walker had assumed Ellis was at fault, Dutch didn’t voice a correction. He’d later offered to make it right, but the opportunity was long passed by then. Ellis had simply dismissed him icily, and they’d avoided each other ever since.
In reality, perhaps the guy wasn’t so bad. Even decent, well-meaning people could make poor choices under pressure. Just look at Ellis. He at least owed Dutch a word of gratitude now for directing Lily his way. Granted, in light of the outcome, it was like thanking a nurse for a dose of cod liver oil: just because it was needed didn’t make it pleasant going down.
For the time being, his priority was Lily.
He reached across his mound of mail and retrieved his phone. Keeping the earpiece on the cradle, he scrounged for the right words. His own apology couldn’t sound flimsy.
That was assuming he even got that far before she hung up or was pulled away by the chief. Ellis could send a letter instead, wire a telegram. Both of which, however, could wind up in a waste bin or returned weeks from now unread.
Right then, the city editor was passing the aisle of desks, hat and coat on. He was scooting out for lunch.
Ellis made a decision.
“Mr. Walker,” he called out. The man turned with reluctance, looking impatient for his afternoon refreshment. When he approached, Ellis cut to the request. “I was wondering, sir, if there’s any chance I could head home. Back to Philly. For a personal matter.”
Intrigue flickered in Mr. Walker’s eyes, but he wasn’t the type to snoop unless the subject was worthy of print. “You’re wanting tomorrow off?”
Ellis had simply meant over the next few days. But yeah. Why not? Until he settled all with Lily, any attempt to work would be a bust. “It’d be a real help.”
“Gone just a day, then.” Not a suggestion, but a limit. A large portion of the man’s duties, magnified by the tough economy, was ensuring that those on his staff were earning their pay.
“Yes, sir.”
“So long as you don’t forget, I want a new pitch by Thursday.”
“Sure thing. I’m working on it.”
“That what this is all about?” Mr. Walker gestured to the letters splayed over the desk.
Ellis now wished he’d opened them in private. “It’s just some reader mail. About an old feature in the Examiner.”
Mr. Walker nodded. “The kids with the sign.”
An impressive guess. Though Ellis shouldn’t have been surprised. The success of that feature had been chiefly responsible for catching the editor’s eye. And when it came to notable stories, the man’s memory was an archive.
Mr. Walker peeked at his watch. “Well, I’m off to lunch.” He continued on his way, but he just as soon halted and wagged a finger. “It’s not a bad idea.”
“Sir?”
“There are plenty of readers who’d want to know more. If you’re already traveling thereabouts, how about a follow-up on the family?”