table surrounded by well-worn chairs. Every wall was left bare, save for a single working clock. Aside from paper and ink, it was the greatest necessity in the business.
As Mr. Walker closed the door, Ellis peeked at the time. Half past one. Despite last night’s drive to and from Philly, he wasn’t weary enough to forget his two o’clock with Mr. Millstone. For any chance of making it, he had to leave soon. A prospect that wasn’t looking good, based on Mr. Walker’s folded arms, his jutted jaw. Add a gun belt and a silver star to the man’s suit, and he could pass as a southern lawman reaching his diplomatic limit.
Ellis prompted, “Is something wrong, sir?”
“I was planning to ask you the same. Because for the life of me, I can’t fathom where your head’s been lately.”
Ellis doubted that was true. Mr. Walker appeared to have a very clear idea about which body cavity Ellis had been using to store that particular part. But since cracking a joke in that regard wasn’t going to help, he merely listened.
“Early on, I did have some reservations about bringing you on board. But then you found your stride. Broke some solid stories.” Mr. Walker paused then, and Ellis wanted to cut to the end as much as he dreaded it. “If you have some notion, however, that a couple of bylines means you can sit back on your haunches—especially at your level of salary—you’re going to be gravely disappointed.”
The nature of Ellis’s generous raise had always carried a backroom-handshake feel. Apparently the paper’s accountant wasn’t the only other staff member aware of the specifics.
“I assure you, sir, I don’t think that at all. In fact,” Ellis reminded him, “I volunteered just yesterday to write up a piece about the beer bill.” After everything that had happened since, it was hard to believe that only a day had passed.
“Ah, yes. The mystery piece.”
Ellis puzzled over the description.
“You know…a mystery. When logic tells us something should be there, but for some reason it never appears.”
“But, sir. If you recall, I punched out that piece in plenty of time for deadline.” Ellis had actually finished it before his mother surprised him with a visit, had even gotten approval right after.
“Okay. Then who’d you leave it with?”
Ellis hated to assign blame, but he remembered clear as rain. Before departing early for the bank, he’d gathered his belongings, and on his way out, he handed his pages off to…
Except…he hadn’t. The damn things were still in his satchel.
“Christ.” He ran a hand over his eyes.
“Well then. Assuming you’re not trying to claim the Almighty is responsible, sounds like we settled that issue.”
Ellis pointed toward the door. “I’ve got that article right at my desk. I can grab it right this second.”
“It’s done,” Mr. Walker said. “I had Hagen write it up. You were nowhere to be found. An increasingly recurrent theme, it seems.”
The article wasn’t urgent. Reassigning it, specifically to the eager rookie with a billion ideas, was a bold flag of frustration.
Ellis lamented the flub, but not nearly as much as being viewed as a shirker. “I’m sorry, Mr. Walker. I do value my job, honest. Like I mentioned before, I just had some personal matters that needed my attention.”
“So do we all, Mr. Reed. And if that warranted perpetual free passes, we wouldn’t have a paper. Besides, we’re in the news business here. I don’t have to explain to you the importance of perception.”
Nope, he really didn’t. Misperceptions were just what had led Ellis into the current mess with Lily and Geraldine and Alfred Millstone.
The thought pulled Ellis’s eyes toward the clock, his editor’s lecture droning on until the room broke jaggedly into silence.
Mr. Walker’s gaze turned steely. “You have somewhere else to be right now?”
Ellis could still postpone the appointment. Given how it came about, though, he doubted he’d get another shot. And a one-on-one meeting could reveal just enough details to help those kids.
“Across the river,” he hazarded. “For an interview.”
Mr. Walker considered this, and Ellis feared an inquiry over specifics. Instead, the editor cast him an unreadable look before opening the door. “Then I suggest you get going.”
• • •
Those parting words normally would have scratched at Ellis’s mind. He would have reviewed them for intent, for a sign of finality. A message that he needn’t bother to return. But all he could think of now, as he drove toward Century Alliance, was that every resident on Manhattan Island had ventured out