could do about that, was there. You get the key word: claim? I had a hard time getting it across to John Smith. He wanted to use words like Drukovich revealed the forgery or confessed or described how or other words that might indicate we assume Drukovich is telling the truth. No, I saw to it we used a word that can more easily be taken to mean we’re skeptical: He claims he forged them… that’s what he claims… It took me an hour to knock some sense into the kid.”
Oh, Ed remembered all that. ::::::We—me included—put poor John Smith through a real nosebleeder.:::::: A nosebleeder was what you called it when everybody is leaning over the shoulder of the reporter as he writes. If he should suddenly lift his head up straight, he would give somebody a bloody nose.
Ah, but the adrenaline pumps pumps pumps pumps for the unknown as well—combat! How will the con man respond? How will he fight? Who will he attack—and with what?
Shortly before 8:00 a.m. the intoxication of being where things are happening was pumping up to the max, when Stan Friedman popped back into the room. This time he was not thrilled. He was carrying a white envelope… and his face had turned very glum. He brought that grim visage and the envelope straight to the Herald’s publisher, Adlai desPortes, who until that moment had been enjoying the greatest adrenaline high of his life. Friedman immediately ducked out of the room again. Publisher desPortes read the letter, which was apparently not long, and very soon he brought the letter and his own glum face straight to Ed. Ed read it and ::::::Jesus Christ! Exactly what does this mean?:::::: he took the letter and his glum—no, not glum, petrified—face straight to Ira Cutler, and the room began to grow quiet. Everyone realized that Gloom had entered the room, and it grew quieter still.
Ed realized how weak and confused this made him look. Owww. It was time for him to step forward and show leadership. He raised his voice and said in what he intended to be the key of casual and lighthearted: “Hey, everybody, Ira here has some late-breaking news.” He waited for and never got a reaction to the casual and lighthearted mot—late-breaking—left over from the twentieth century. “We have word by messenger from the other side!” No sign of casual, light hearts in the room. “Ira, why don’t you read that letter out loud for us.”
The room didn’t seem anywhere near as blasé as Ed meant that to sound.
“Oh, kaaay,” said Cutler. “What have we here?” It was always a surprise to hear the high pitch of the pit bull’s voice, especially in front of this many people. “Let’s see… let’s see… let’s see… what we have here is… This communication seems to be from… the law firm of Solipsky, Gudder, Kramer, Mangelmann, and Pizzonia. It is addressed to Mr. Adlai desPortes, Publisher, the Miami Herald, One Herald Plaza et cetera, et cetera… hmmmm… hmm… and so forth.
“ ‘Dear Mr. desPortes, We represent Mr. Sergei Korolyov, subject of a front-page article in today’s edition of the Miami Herald. Your scurrilous and highly libelous depiction of Mr. Korolyov has already been repeated worldwide in print and electronic media. With patently false data and unconscionable insinuations, you have maligned the reputation of one of Greater Miami’s most civic-minded, generous, and highly respected citizens. You have relied heavily upon the fabrications, and, quite possibly, hallucinations, of an individual known to be suffering from an advanced stage of alcoholism. You have used your high position in a reckless, malicious, totally irresponsible way, and, depending upon the validity, if any, of certain assertions, felonious, as well. If you will publish an immediate retraction of this calumny-laden “story” and an apology for it, Mr. Korolyov will regard that as an ameliorating factor. Yours very truly, Julius M. Gudder, of counsel, Solipsky, Gudder, Kramer, Mangelmann, and Pizzonia.’ ”
Cutler narrowed his eyes and surveyed the room with a poisonous little smile on his lips. He was in his element. Let’s you and him fight! I’ll provide all the slurs you’ll need to bite him in the ass with… His eyes settled upon the official recipient of this slap across the face, Publisher Adlai desPortes. Publisher desPortes did not seem to be in any rush to avenge the honor of the Miami Herald. In fact, as his presumed French ancestors might have put it, he seemed decidedly hors de combat. He