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Tom couldn't help but be nervous, as much as he wanted to believe otherwise Leila was really his only solid lead, if she rejected him now then the story was as good as dead. Thankfully for him Leila didn't shut him down completely, and reaching into her pocket she brought out something that he was happy to see, it was a USB drive and Tom just hoped that it had something substantial on it, if it had files from Davenpot's work computer on it then maybe, just maybe, there was something on this that would give them some concrete evidence on there that would point out why someone would want to have him killed. Leila was right, by now Davenport's home computer would have been wiped or destroyed, either way it was worthless to him. [b "Thank you Leila, this is great. I know just the person that might just be able to crack the encryption on these files."] The paper had several techs that were employed solely to deal with encrypted files but he wasn't sure that he could trust any of them with a story this sensitive but luckily for him Emily had insisted that they teach her how to decrypt files just in case there was an incredibly sensitive case that called for such measures. Tom was fairly sure that this was exactly the sort of scenario that called for such action.
[b "Don't worry Leila, I have absolutely no intention of ever revealing your involvement in this story. I swear to you that I will do anything in my power to keep your identity a secret I will."] Their meeting was coming to an end and the political aide clearly wanted to be anywhere other than with a reporter right now. [b "Thank you Leila. You've been a great help."] Tom handed over a business card for Joey's Pizza Palace and a number on it, it was a decoy so that if anyone saw her with the card then no one would know that it was really a card for a journalist. Tom left and head straight for the office, calling Emily on the way, asking her to meet him there and thankfully she was already there when he arrived. [+blue "What have you learned? You must have something or else you wouldn't have called me in."] Tom pulled the USB out of his pocket and showed it to Emily. [b "I have a source, a confidential one before you ask, and they gave me a drive of encrypted files from Davenport's computer. You'll need an air gapped computer just to be safe, who knows what the files on that drive are like. I don't want them connected to any sort of internet or network. For all we know whoever killed Davenport is watching for something like this."] Emily nodded her head in agreement and assured him that she would get right on it. [blue "Leave the files to me Tom, you were never any good with the technical side of things. I'll call you right away as soon as the files have been decrypted. You've done good work, go home and get some rest."] Tom nodded wearily, it had been a long day and his bed was calling him.
Tom woke up after having a less than restful night, his mind was still playing out scenarios and thinking of avenues of investigation that he might explore. He wondered if Leila regretted her decision to help him and if it was just a one time thing her helping his investigation. In the end he decided that he had more important things to think about, while Emily worked on the encrypted files Tom had to try a different lead. He needed to visit Eli but they had not seen each other in a while, he hoped the address he had for the former marine was still correct. The journalist ate a quick breakfast before setting off for where he hoped his friend still was. It didn't take long for him to find the address, it wasn't much an apartment complex that looked like it had seen better days. Tom sipped on the cup of tea that he had picked up on his walk over to the building. He checked his phone quickly just in case Emily had tried to contact him with any news regarding the encrypted files but it didn't look like she had had much success yet. He knew that it would take time but every hour that passed was an hour where it would be harder to find out the truth about what had happened to Davenport and why he had been murdered. Tom entered the apartment building and made his way to apartment 1976 and knocked on the door, hoping that it was Eli that answered.
Leila listened with an open mind, and while she looked calm on the outside, inside she was a swirling mess of nerves. If she was caught here, if the tiniest rumor circulated to Wright about her speaking with a reporter… Game Over. Leila couldn’t argue the obvious truth that not only was Davenport murdered, but it was a hit. That was professional.
[b “He was executed for Christ's sake! I need your help Leila.”]
[+purple “I was there… now I’m here. Go on,”] she bade him, and listened further as he proclaimed his wanting to be honest, upfront, and laying all his cards on the table for her. He gave her his suspicons, that this was an ordered hit from a possible outside source, potentially another candidate. The death of a high profile Senator’s staff member should be news, at least be given a mention…. But not a word. The word was, they were withholding until family approval, but fuck that. TMZ waited for no one, so where was the TMZ of Washington?
He needed her, admitted he needed the insider knowledge she had. She honestly wished she had more to give him, she wished she had more information herself. Whatever it was she knew it wasn’t any good. She could only agree with the statement that Davenport got in over his head with something, when he mentioned his brother. Like a lightning bolt Leila was struck with the realization of who Thomas Luck was… the brother of Senator Jackson Luck! This could really blow up in her face now.
[b “I think there might be a National Security angle to all of this which complicates everything. No one in politics likes talking to a reporter and even less when it involves national security but there may be someone I can trust. During Iraq and Afghanistan I was embedded with the Marines, I still have a few friends amongst them who might be able to help me out with that angle.”] He made his final plea, that she help him get to the bottom of this.
Reluctantly, Leila reached into her pocket and thumbed the USB in her pocket, before he hand reached over for the lighter and half empty pack of cigarettes. For a moment she was quiet, as she opened the box and withdrew a cigarette. Speaking as she set it to light and exhaled a heavy breath of smoke.
[+purple “I can only help you so much, and so far. Listen, I don’t want to be the next Snowden. I want complete anonymity, no one can know I’m your informant. So for now… I give you this.”] She reached into her pocket a final time, placing her lighter and carton of smokes in her pocket and producing the USB. [+purple “This is a copy of files from Davenport’s work computer. It’s the best I can get you, and I’ll wager that by now, his home computer has been taken or wiped clean. There might not be much, but maybe there’s something here. The files were encrypted, so I hope you know a better hacker than me. I couldn’t unlock them, and I didn’t want to be caught at his computer. I had two Feds show up at my office to question me. They seem to think I have the most to gain from Davenport’s death… like a shiny new job promotion. I need you to find out what happened, before I end up as someone’s scapegoat.”] Leila wasn’t stupid, after speaking with the two agents, it was very clear she was in a perfect position to be a suspect and scapegoat.
She gave him the thumb drive, and with it her hopes that he might find something useful. If she had it her way this would be her last meeting with Thomas Luck… but in the days to come, she’d learn her luck was not that great.
[+purple “Davenport was a grubby power-hungry pervert, and he had his dirty laundry, but nothing I know of that would warrant his death. Maybe a good bruising, but not… that.”] She watched Thomas take the USB and pocket it, and she simply frowned, looking uneasy. She was finally showing some emotion. [+purple “Please don’t let me regret this… and I’ll let you know if I find anything else out.”]
She walked towards him and past him, completing the route she’d established for herself and gave him a side long look. He was handsome for an older man, and very married, he carried himself with a presence that required acknowledgement. Leila had only met Senator Luck in passing… it must have been a family trait. Thomas had a bit of grit to his overall character, and his brother was resplendent in comparison. Still… she had said all she could to him for the moment and without much more, she continued on her way. Perhaps when they meet again there will be a greater exchange of information. Leila was certainly determined to find out what Davenport was up to, and if it posed a threat to Wright.
Thomas stood at the designated meeting point practically praying that Leila would show up, he suddenly realised how stupid he had been to put sundown on the note instead of an actual time. The writer in him liked that it sounded like something out of a noir style crime story but the pragmatist was annoyed that he didn't just put a time. What if Leila wasn’t going to show up for another hour? What if she had already been and left? What if she was never coming at all? Tom had to admit that the last option was probably most likely, if he was in her position he would strongly consider not coming but he knew that his curiosity would get the better of him and he would have to show up. In many ways Tom was a very simple man and the easiest way to get him to do anything was to give him an unsolved problem. It was slightly colder than he had expected and he was just about dying for a smoke when he saw a figure walking towards him and it became evident that Leila had not just decided to ignore his rather poor worded request for a meeting. He gave a silent prayer of thanks that he had not wasted his night but more importantly that his trail was not completely dead. If this meeting went well then he would have a solid lead that he could actually work on! All he needed to do now was actually try and get Leila to talk.
Patterson's greeting was less than jovial and Tom couldn't help but be cynical about her line that the American people deserved to know the truth but maybe he was wrong. Just because she was on the other side didn't necessarily make her an enemy but Tom had met too many politicians that wanted nothing more than personal gain to trust them all. [b "Thanks for coming Leila, can I call you Leila? Listen I'm not going to insult your intelligence or try and bullshit you. We both saw what happened and we both know that this isn't normal. Davenport didn’t just die he was murdered, and rather brutally at that. I want to find out what happened and it's not just because it's a big story, I think something big is going on. We both know that you can make a lot of enemies in politics, some might get you fired, some might even land you in the hospital but rarely do they get you killed and never like that. He was executed for Christ's sake! I need your help Leila"] Tom had decided that the best approach to take with Leila was the simple truth, she was too smart for half truths and lies of omission and would see right through any deception that he came up with, besides Thomas had always preferred the truth. It might be naive in his line of work but he actually did believe that honesty was the best policy. Leila was hard to read but so far Tom thought that she was at least interested in what he had to say. [b "I'm going to be honest with you, put all my cards on the table, and I’d like you to do the same. I'm worried. It's a bold move to kill the Chief of Staff of a Senator that has a good shot at getting to the White House and the only people that would do that are...well someone that has a dog in the fight. I'm not suggesting for a second that one of the other candidates ordered the hits but it would be a pretty big stretch to imagine that it had nothing to do with the Oval Office. We both know there is more to this than meets the eye, Davenport's death should be headline news on every news channel in the country but it's barely being reported I want to know why. You knew the man I didn't, that makes you valuable. You will be able to see things that i will miss. You can help solve this case.”] Tom let the statement linger in the air, this was really his only play, he could do as much legwork as he liked but without the inside knowledge to put what he found together then it wouldn't get him very far. He needed Patterson.
[b "Davenport obviously got in way over his head and it was either professional or personal. I have contacts in the professional lines, I could probably find out what some of the other politicians and their staff thought about Davenport from my brother Jack..."] Tom wasn't sure if Patterson and his brother had ever crossed paths in a professional capacity but curiously he thought that the idea of the two very driven characters together would wither be very good or very bad. [b "...or given how little is being reported about his death I think there might be a National Security angle to all of this which complicates everything. No one in politics likes talking to a reporter and even less when it involves national security but there may be someone I can trust. During Iraq and Afghanistan I was embedded with the Marines, I still have a few friends amongst them who might be able to help me out with that angle."] Tom immediately thought of Eli, he had been a good man when Tom had been embedded with his battalion, and easily the best friend Tom had had amongst the soldiers. Tom hadn't spoken with the former Marine in a while but Tom was still sure that if he called then Eli would at least answer him. He remembered hearing that Eli now had a job with the secret service so while Eli would be in a position to tell him what was going on or at least point the way to those who would Tom didn't know if his own personal ethics would allow him to potentially give away classified information. Tom decided he would cross that bridge when he came to it.
[b "What do you say Leila, will you help me get to the bottom of all of this?"]
The press conference went down without a hitch. The media ate up Wright’s bullshit story like a gourmet meal, and Lelia stood with her practiced face of pragmatic stoicism. When it had ended Wright left first with a set of bodyguards to block him and he was escorted away from the bullpen of reporters and towards his personal car to return to the main office. Leila was not far behind him, making her way through the crowd to join him when she felt a body bump into her. She looked back to see who it was, and she recognized the coat as the person walked away. Thomas Luck. She did not frown, but her eyes narrowed suspiciously towards his retreating back, and she slowly reached into the pocket on the side he bumped into. She didn’t remove it, but she felt a folded piece of paper. She didn’t have a chance to ponder on it when a secret service agent murmured for her to get in the car promptly.
Davenport’s death did not slow down Wright’s projected path to the White House, if anything his numbers in the polls were still on the upswing, and campaign season was right on their doorstep. The office was buzzing with phone calls and interns running like headless chickens to complete their tasks, and Wright made his way to his office were a pair of lobbyists were waiting to speak with him. Leila took a detour to the Women’s restroom.
She closed the stall behind her and sat down to finally read the note in her pocket.
[i We need to talk about Davenport. Meet me at 177A Bleecker Street at sundown.]
No surprise there. Luck was aware something was amiss. Foolish, Leila should have mentioned to Wright that a reporter had gained access to the crime scene! Perhaps his official statement might have been more clear, and less... fabricated. It unnerved her to know the statement wasn’t entirely truthful. She was at an impasse of what to do. To go or report it? Part of her knew there was nothing to report to the higher ups, but going could be career suicide.
She flushed the note down the toilet before exiting the stall and washed her hands as if it were business as usual. The moment she walked out of the women’s room and back into Wright’s staff room, she was greeted by two FBI agents at her desk. They were dressed in suits and both wore very surly expressions.
[+red “Ms. Patterson?”] The first greeted and moved to shake her hand first, the second following as introductions were made. [+red “I am Agent Johnson, this is my partner Agent Hare. You were at the crime scene last night, and we’d like to ask you a few questions.”] Leila sighed keeping her cool countenance and stared them back.
[+purple “I gave the Police all the information I had. I have nothing more to say, but I will attempt to answer any other questions you have.”]
[+red “That would be preferred for us.”] Agent Johnson said sitting at her desk as she took her own chair.
[+purple “This is highly unusual. Normally you would have to file a request to meet with Senator Wright.”]
[+blue “We have filed the necessary paperwork, but we came in order to speak with his secretary. That is you, isn’t it?”] Agent Hare asked. Both men were exactly the type you’d expect to see with the FBI. Clean shaven, with tapered hair cuts, and fit physiques, they were not ex-military, but they were of the academic sort. Most likely sticklers for protocol.
Leila was then subjected to a round of questions that seemed innocent in nature, but she knew better... and it was clear they were hoping to take advantage of her young age and inexperience. It became clear she was apparently a suspect to them.
[+red “Were you close with Davenport?”]
[+purple “No. It was no secret I did not care for him.”]
[+blue “Why not?”]
[+purple “That’s personal.”]
[+red “We’ve heard rumors, so did he ever make a pass at you?”] Agent Johnson asked taking liberty to look through the photos on her desk. He flipped one over of two younger people who could only be her siblings flanking either side of her, making faces as Leila stood with a sour expression.
[+purple “Only once,”] Leila reached over and took her sibling photo and set it back where it belonged.
[+blue “Davenport ever confide anything to you?”]
[+purple “Only when he needed me to clean up a mess.”]
[+blue “What sort of mess?”]
[+red “But you didn’t work for Davenport.”]
[+purple “That is correct.”] Agent Hare and Jonson shared a look.
[+red “They said you would be a tough cookie to crack. So if you don’t work for Davenport why were you called to the scene?”]
[+purple “I am, or rather was, Davenport’s professional contact. I am the same for Senator Wright, and most of the staff members here. I was only asked to go because his wife and children were overseas.”]
[+blue “Do you know why they were away?”]
[+purple “No. You will have to ask Mrs. Davenport. She should be landing in LaGuardia tomorrow. She and her children will be back in DC by tomorrow night.”]
Wright suddenly came barging out of his office, just as the lobbyists were leaving as well. He walked over with a cautionary smile. [+gold “Are you harassing my secretary? Where are your papers?”] They quickly tried to introduce themselves, but Wright chastised them for entering without prior authorization, and for harassing Leila. That if they wanted to speak with her they would have to go through the proper channels and request an appointment. Leila on the other hand knew exactly what she was doing. She gave the FBI just enough information in an attempt to fish out what they were looking for, and now with Wright’s entrance she knew he was aware of something... whatever that something was. While she didn’t gain more information, it was an eye opening experience.
[+red “Thank you for your time Ms. Patterson, don’t go out of town, we might want to speak with you again soon.”]
When the day ended and the rest of the staff had left for the day, Leila was alone in the office. She wanted to log into Davenport’s computer and do some digging. She was willing to take the risk, and made her way into his office and sat down. The computer was still powered on, but required a password to unlock. The last thing Leila was, was a hacker, but she knew enough about Davenport she was able to figure out his password by the third try. His children’s birthdays followed by his wife’s initials. Leila let out a breath of relief and satisfaction to have cracked the code and quickly made her way through his files. She knew enough about computers from her father, a software engineer with Microsoft, to navigate a computer more competently than the average person. She found several encrypted files, and decided to download as much as she could on her thumbdrive. The file transfer took a solid three minutes and almost maxed out the 32GB of available data on the device. While she waited she looked through his browser history, and went through his emails to find anything suspicious, she even went through his deleted files and email trash, but found everything was clean. It seemed even Davenport was competent at covering his digital tracks.
His desk was locked, but Leila had keys to everything in the office, including his desk, so she rifled through miscellaneous office supplies, notes, and files for anything that might be helpful in her own investigation. She was confident that Davenport had been targeted, but why? No home invasion would leave nothing to be stolen but a body shot down execution style. His work computer seemed rather clean, but his computer back at his home was certain to have already been confiscated. Leila may not have gotten along with Davenport, but Mrs. Davenport and herself got along rather well, and Davenport’s kids liked Leila as well. Removing the USB and putting the computer back in rest mode, Leila left the office the way she found it and proceeded to leave the building for the evening. She had one place to go, she would take the metro to meet with Luck... she just hoped she didn’t regret doing so.
It was just past sundown when Leila arrived. She had the strangest feeling she was being watched, but shook it off as paranoia with all the stress of the past two days. All she really wanted by this point in time was to go home, drink a bottle of wine and lay on the couch with her cat. This area of town was not as crowded as other places and she reached into her coat pocket where she kept a small Ruger .9mm handgun. Thankfully she spotted Thomas Luck and her hand relaxed as she removed it from her pocket. She gave no greeting, or expression that would reveal her nervousness or her thoughts.
[+purple “You wanted to talk. So start talking, Mr. Luck. If I’m found here with you it could mean the end of my career, but I just had an informal meeting with two FBI agents that confirm there’s more to Davenport’s death than meets the eye. I may work in the Government, but I do believe in the right of free press and that the American people deserve to know the truth in all things.”]
Tom watched the press conference go on, Wright seemed sincere in his comments that losing a member of his staff in these circumstances was a tragedy, that Davenport would be missed by all that knew him and that thoughts and prayers of all at the Wright Campaign would be with his family. It was almost good enough to fool a seasoned sceptic like Tom...almost. perhaps he was being a little unfair on the politician, he didn't doubt that he was sorry to lose his Chief of Staff and that the ordinary people involved in the Campaign were upset at his passing but the image of the crime scene kept coming back into his mind whenever Tom started to doubt himself. Davenport hadn't died in some random mugging or robbery gone wrong, he had been executed. That sort of thing didn't just happen by accident, he had been targeted and likely for good reason. Wright wasn't giving anything away, and while the other reporters were clamouring away to ask their questions Tom was looking in another direction, he was looking for an aide standing quietly off to the side. She hid it well but Tom could see from the expression on Leila's face that she wasn't overly convinced by the press conference either, he had also been at Davenport's house, she had seen the body, she knew how the Chief of Staff had died. Tom was sure that Leila was the best shot he had at finding out what had happened but as to the best way to go forward...he was at a loss there. If Tom just approached her outright and told her of his suspicions then the chances were that she would refuse to help him, after all anything that they found out would harm her boss and probably stop him from becoming President. he supposed that he could always try and leave out of it as much as possible but that would be pushing his ethical line to the limit. If the potential President of the United States was into some seriously dangerous stuff then the public had a right to know. It looked like he would just have to weigh up which was more important, his own personal morals or the story.
Who the hell was he kidding, as much as he prided himself on his morals the story would always come first, especially one of this magnitude. It was simply too important to ignore.
As the press conference ended the rest of the journalists filtered out but Thomas hung back, waiting for his moment. He had hastily scrawled a note that read [i We need to talk about Davenport. Meet me at 177A Bleecker Street at sundown. ] on it and using the bustle of the exiting crowd he got as close to Leila as he could before planting the note in her pocket. Tom had managed to stop himself from writing come alone on the bit of paper, considering how Davenport had died there would be every chance that Pattterson would think this was an attempt on her life and not come, or maybe tell the authorities and instead of meeting up with the staffer Tom would find himself face to face with a bunch of trigger happy FBI agents, neither of which he found particularly appealing. He just had to hope her sense of curiosity was as as strong as his own. Tom decided that since he still had a lot of time to kill before his, maybe, meeting with Patterson he might as well put it to good use. Tom decided to return to the scene of the crime, he wanted to see what had changed since last night, as he approached the street he could see that it was still closed off, that was to be expected, unfortunately there were no officers on duty that he already had a working relationship with, it would probably be too dangerous to start asking topo many questions, especially given the seriousness of the crime in question. Much to his disappointment, nothing particularly interesting was happening at the crime scene from what he could see. There were a couple of workmen that were renovating a house a few doors down from Davenport's but everything seemed on th level. The workmen didn't seem to care that he was there obviously watching whatever it was that was unfolding, no doubt they had seen others this morning wanting to get a look at whatever had happened. Tom couldn't help but study them as they worked, it was in his nature to take in everything about his surroundings, they looked Eastern European he thought or at least had some sort of slavic blood, maybe the children of immigrants and he also noticed that they both had a tattoo of timepieces on them. One had a pocket-watch on his neck while the other had what looked like Big Ben on his arm. It seemed an odd choice for a tattoo but maybe they had some personal meaning, the two looked similar enough to be related in some form anyway.
As the day wore on Thomas eventually saw a man in a suit and a black coat exiting the property, he looked like FBI straight away, again which wasn't surprising. That was frustrating in itself, Tom knew so little about what was going on but all the things he did know kept getting confirmed, he needed more answers. The FBI agent, lit up a cigarette and it instantly set Tom's nerves on edge, he was trying to quit, and he had been managing his cravings so well today, he suspected the case he was working on was compensating for his addiction, there wasn't anything to gain by sitting still and suffering by being so close to the cigarette smoke, besides he wanted to remain as far off the FBI's radar as he could for as long as possible. The last thing his investigation needed was to be interfered with by the government. A free press might be essential for democracy but that didn't mean that it wasn't inconvenient. Tom made his way to the address that he had slipped to Patterson and spent the rest of his time thinking of how to convince her to help him. Now all that was left was seeing whether or not that would work.
Leila still felt sick. The shock had worn off, but the images had remained. Davenport, dead on the floor with a hole in his face, mouth agape, and face twisted in remorse and horror. What had he done? It was all Leila could think about that night, she didn’t get an ounce of sleep. She knew all the secrets, not that any of them were particularly damaging in her opinion, so why couldn’t she think of anything that would tie Davenport to a professional hit?
She was already at her desk when other staffers arrived that morning. She hadn’t slept and it showed, dark circles marred her haunted eyes, and no one said a word to her. They knew she had been the one to go confirm the body and speak with authorities. Hell on the ride back from Davenport’s murder scene, she booked his family their flights and travel back home for funeral arrangements. They were estimated to land in LaGuardia mid-day tomorrow. She hardly heard the morning buzz as people got to work, the TV as it iterated the morning news to them all, not that they didn’t already know what the buzz was. She was too focused on Davenport’s misfortune and what might have brought it to noticed that the news wasn’t covering the very thing preoccupying her mind. Slowly her eyes traveled across the office towards the glass walls of Davenport’s office. The lights were off inside, and his door still locked tight… for now… Leila did have a key, and she decided she would use it when the time was right. If only the police or FBI didn’t show up to take it all first.
It was at that moment a brave intern set a cup of coffee before her. Leila glared at it, and then up to the boy. He was scrawny, with a curly mop of sandy brown hair that was kept short, and a happy expression on his face.
[+blue “You look like you could use a cup of wake up juice.”] Something about his jovial tone made Leila want to glare harder, instead she took a deep breath and sat a bit taller and eyed the coffee. What a little shit… he was probably right. She no doubt looked like hell. [+blue “I bet you didn’t get any sleep last night. Was it gruesome? We’re all dying to know, if I’m being honest.”] Well well, someone had balls, and word certainly traveled fast in this office. Leila grinned finally and gave the intern a chilling stare.
[+purple “If I look like shit, then it’s sufficient to say that: Yes, it was gruesome. Seeing a murdered coworker can have that effect, I’ve heard. You want to know something else? Lean to mind your own business,”] she hissed. The intern slowly stood up, careful not to rile her ire further, and slinked off to the corner of interns trapped in their broom closet of an office.
[+Gold “PATTERSON! You’re here, good. My office, now.”]
Senator Wright walked into the office, his face stern yet All-American. Square Jaw, the right amount of grey on the sides of his thick brown hair, his deep set brown eyes, and charming smile. Wright had all the charisma and cunning to become the next president. He removed his jacket and looking directly at Leila, spoke and never stopped his approach. He simply walked straight from the front door, to his office in the back with a view of the courtyard below, and opened that door for her. Leila entered the room to the sound of silence behind her, and though she could not see them, she could feel their eyes on her. Wright closed the door and made a B-line for his desk with a heavy sigh.
[+gold “Bad news, Leila. You know I dislike bad news…. So is he really… dead?”] Leila saw his dead face flash again in her mind.
[+purple “Yes. Coroner confirmed death at the site.”]
[+gold “His family-“]
[+Purple “Boarding a flight from Paris to Heathrow. They are expected to land in Laguardia by mid morning tomorrow.”] Wright seemed to sigh a heavy bought of relief.
[+gold “What would I do without you? I’m glad you’re on my side. So you have a statement prepared?’]
[+purple “PR is working on it. I gave Denis what I knew when he got in this morning, and he should have it ready soon. Sir? I noticed… Davenport’s death is not being reported on the news. Why is that? Was he involved in something I was not briefed about?”] Leila asked moving closer to the desk with a hushed voice and taking up the chair on the left.
Wright was unreadable, an admirable trait to have in Politics, but she rather wished he wasn’t at this moment. He rapped his fingers against his desk, making his silver wedding band sparkle in the light. His gaze was on the courtyard below and a slight furrow of his brow was the only indication she had he was mulling over his words.
[+gold “If he was, I had no clue of it. Same as you. We know Davenport loved his… [i escorts], it’s possible he had a less than satisfied manager come to him and demand money.”] Leila frowned at that, but made no comment to the fact that regardless of the way the crime scene looked… nothing had been stolen. At least to her knowledge so far.
[+purple “Yeah… you’re probably right. Maybe he was being blackmailed for something? It just doesn’t add up….”]
[+gold “I know that look,”] Wright said drawing Leila out of her thoughts and to look at the older gentleman across from her. She frowned uncertain as to what look she had been making, but Wright cleared up her confusion in no time. [+gold “You’ve got a Nancy Drew look on your face. I want you to leave this alone, leave it to the authorities to handle. I couldn’t bare it if something happened to you. I rely on you ore than anyone else here, even more than I relied on Davenport. Which is why, starting today, I want you under constant protection.”] Leila blanched at Wright’s words. Her?!
[+purple “Sir! That’s insane-“]
[+gold “No arguments, Patterson. If there’s the slightest possibility someone is targeting my senior staff, I have to take precautions.”]
[+purple “No, Sir. What about you? What if you are the true intended target?”]
Leila’s questioning was silenced by Wright’s handsome chuckles as he stood up from his chair to walk around the desk and take the seat beside her, turning her’s to face him and placing them closer together, and his voice was quiet. She looked down to the arms of her chair where his hands blocked her in, and her thighs pressed tightly together as her body tensed at their nearness. She could smell his expensive aftershave with their proximity, and she was remiss to admit she liked the way he smelled. She liked a lot of things about Wright…
[+gold “I am taking my own precautions. Nothing is going to stop us from taking the Oval Office, and Davenport’s death is just a bump on the road to getting there. Don’t let this hold us back.”] Us… like they were a team. Leila nodded her head at his smile and confident words. [+gold “You can’t be scared, and neither can I. Now let’s go find Denis and see what he’s prepared for us. Then call for a press conference.”]
[+purple “Yes, sir.”] Leila breathed, and after a moment Wright finally backed away from her, allowing her space to breath and to stand up from the chair and leave the office. He stopped her right before she opened the door with an:
[+gold “Oh, and Patterson…”] She stopped to look at him, her posture prim, and her expression expectant. [+gold “Keep the details of what you saw last night to yourself, wouldn’t want the staff to have more tea than they need.”] Tea, code for gossip. Leila nodded her head and ignored the odd feeling she was experiencing and left the office to find Denis.
Denis had put together the perfect announcement for Davenport’s death, but upon delivering it to Wright she watched as he made several changes, and she wondered how the media would take it, especially the reports who had been at the home that night. She knew of at least one, that might not buy the story, and sure enough outside the office where they had called the media and reports to announce the death, he stood in the crowd of hungry reporters. Leila stood off quietly to the side as Wright gave a moving speech about loss, their condolences, and a plea to the Metro Police to bring the culprit to justice.
[+Gold “I’ll now take any questions,”] Wright finished with and per tradition the Reports jumped for a chance to ask their questions.
Leila answered Tom's questions with a stoic pragmatism that he had not anticipated, he had expected to catch her off guard, this was not her ususal work after all and seeing a dead colleague tended to put most people off kilter. Leila gave him absolutely nothing to work with. He hadn't expected her to give him any real information but he had hoped her to get something, anything, out of teh exchange. Alas it was not to be. Thomas might be no further forward in his investigtion but he had at least learnt something about the character of Leila Patterson. She was one to watch. [b "Thank you for your time Ms. Patterson. You of course have my deepest condolances and the thoughts of everyone at the New York Times."] At that moment, the law enforcement on scene decided that it was time for them to question Leila, one of the cops gave him a scowl as they led her away from him, Thomas sighed, there were always cops who hated journalists thinking that all they did was get in the way. There wasn't a whole lot of Thomas to do now, he had managed to get a look at the crime scene, he had questioned the one person who might know anything and now it was clear that he had worn out his welcome. He decided that there was nothing else taht he could do tonight except go home, try and get some sleep, think on events and call Emily in the morning. Together they could try and see what they were dealing with.
Thomas woke early the next morning and the first thing he did was turn on the morning news, he expected to see wall to wall coverage of Davenport's murder but not one tv station was covering the topic. That wasn't just odd, that was creepy, the closest thing that passed for a story was that the street Davenport had lived on was closed for "routine maintenance"? Either no one seemed to know that Ross Davenport had been murdered or no one seemed to care and Tom couldn't decide out of those two options which was more worrying. He looked at his watch and decided he had better get to the office and discuss things with Emily sooner rather than later. He quickly made Juliet Breakfast, just a bagel with some creamed cheese and some cranberry juice before he darted away to try and figure out what the hell was going on. Thankfully Emily was at her desk when Tom arrived at the office, he wasted no time in explaining everything that he had seen last night, thankfully Emily had been keeping an eye on the morning news as well so she could also see that something wasn't right. [+blue "The only reason I can think of keeping something like this a secret would be for National Security reasons but that doesn't make any sense. As far as I can see neither Wright nor Davenport have ever served in any National Security capacity, either on a subcommittee or as an advisor. Wright knows people who are but everyone knows everyone in Congress. Yo're right, something doesn't add up and right now I think our best lead is Wright and that assistant of his, Patterson. I'll keep an eye out for the statment from his office on Davenport's death but I don't think this will be straightforward."] Emily was the smartest person that Tom knew and if she was perplexed about this whole situation then they were in trouble. Despite this quite literally being a life and death situation sometimes Tom thought that Emily viewed her work as a game, if she found out the story and got to the bottom of things before anyone else then she won, if someone else got the scoop first then she lost...and Emily hated losing, she hated it even more than she liked winning and Tom had learned thatthere was a difference between the two. [+blue "Tom, go and do what you do best."] Tom nodded in understanding before he left the office, he officially had a story to follow, now all he had to do was see where it led him.
Thomas went to a little coffee shop a couple of blocks away from the office, it was'n a quiet place but that was exactly what Thomas liked about it, there was always something goiong on. He had been coming here for a while so the staff knew him and often kept a little table aside so he could thionk and do his work. Thomas sipped on his cup of tea, personlly he couldn't stand coffe as the stuff was far too bitter, as he thought through his options going forward. Emily was right, Wright and Patterson were probably the logical place to go, they had worked with Davenport and were probably closest to him, if anyone was likely to know what wasimportant enough to get him killed it would be them. Tom didn't think that Davenport's family would be of much use, Davenport would have been a workaholic and Thomas would bet all the money in his pockets that it was something to do with his work for Wright that had gotten him killed. It was possible that Daveport had been dealing information under the table, it certainly wouldn't be the first time someone had sold political information for profit and that situation could very eaily go sideways on a person. Then there was the National Security angle. If a federal agency were activly trying to cover up the murder of a sitting Senator's chief of staff then that had to be an extraordinary situation. Davenport must have been involved in something huge...unless it was teh feds that had killed him in the first place. Tom was certainly cynical enough to believ that the Government wouldn't hesitate to kill in order to protect itself but a Senator's chief political Aide just seemed an unlikely target, there had to be an easier way of dealing with a problematic politician. Of course Thomas would get nothing by trying to find anything out from the government directly, anything even remotely involved with National Security would see him promptly tossed out on his ass. Tom supposed he could maybe ask Jack for a favour but he didn't want to open that can of worms unless it was absolutely necessary, he had promissed to keep his career and Jack's as distinct as possible. Tom loved his brother but that didn't mean that he always trusted him and there was no telling what kind of favour Jack would demand for helping him. No, it was safer to try and find out what happened with Davenport through Wright and Patterson but that had it's own share of issues. He had clearly put Patterson one dge last night, who was to tell what she would report to her boss or how she would react to him prodding about. It might not be easy but he didn't see any other way at the moment to proceed. It looked like he was heading to Senator Wright's office.
Leila paced the foyer, her heels clicking against the hardwood flooring. Inside she was shaking, though no one would be able to tell. Leila had an impressively cold and melancholy disposition. Her eyes continued to look about the home, curious to see if anything else was out of place. Honestly she was hoping to find `a reason, because holy fuck! she’d be having nightmares of Ross’ brains all over his office, for weeks to come. It was obviously a hit, but Leila couldn’t say that out loud, instead she had to focus on the phone at her ear that rang. Wright would not be happy to get a call at this hour, but he’d be more pissed if he found out from the media and not her.
She heard the connection click and she steadied her pacing and her focus to a single point on the wall across from her. Mustard yellow paint. What an awful color.
[i ‘What is it?’]
[+purple “Bad news. It’s Ross, Sir.”] She answered with some difficulty, she tried to hide the tremor, but he caught it, and demanded to know what happened. [+purple “He’s dead, Sir. Two to the head. The house looks like a robbery, but this was clearly something else. Sir? What shall I do?”]
[i ‘Cooperate with the Police, we’ll have to prepare a statement for tomorrow morning. Get as much information as you can and meet me at my office first thing in the morning.”]
[+purple “Yes, Sir. I’ll see to it everything is arranged.”] The call disconnected and, she finally tore her gaze away from that awful wall color. Her phone still in her hand, she looked down and noted the late hour, she’d be getting no sleep this night. It was then she heard footsteps and looked up from her phone to see a reporter who managed to worm his way in. She kept her steely gaze on him, even as he approached. She instantly began to brace herself for what was subsequently to follow.
He was middle aged, scholarly, and carried himself with the unnecessary confidence of someone else she knew.... Leila would not let his age or his aura intimidate her. She was constantly surrounded by powerful men, older than her, more powerful, and she managed to hold her own. She held her ground as he drew closer, and caught the flash of his reporter badge bearing his name. if she had been a cat she might have bristled, but she kept her cool as none other than Thomas Luck of the New York Times asked for a comment.
Like any good reporter, his questions were rapid fire, desperate to get them out before he might be silenced. She remained melancholy, impassive and rather Vulcan. She was not Wright’s PR, just his aid and secretary. So it was rather surprising that the renowned, two time Pulitzer Prize winning Reporter knew the name of an unimportant secretary. She remained stoic as she regarded how best to answer, of course she could always remain silent and walk away. However, that would have been a terrible idea as well.
[+purple “Mr. Luck, I did’t realize the New York Times would have cared about a homicide, let alone send you for it. Perhaps I should be happy, if anyone will uncover what happened here today... I’m sure you’ll find a way to the bottom of it.”] She looked him over, though her tone left little to extrapolate from, if anything her remark would have been more of a scathing comment about Luck’s tenacity and annoying persistence, but she was also honest. She had no idea why Davenport was targeted. She took a quick breath and sighed, knowing she had to give him something at the very least, but her tone remained flat and unemotional. [+purple “I am in no position to make statements or divulge information to you, Mr. Luck. What I can tell you is that Senator Wright has been informed as of just a moment ago. I can also say that the Davenport family has our deepest condolences, but a formal statement will be made available sometime tomorrow by Senator Wright’s office.”]
Her comment left no true room for argument, and even if Thomas Luck did manage to come up with more questions, she was saved by the approach of two police officers, and a federal agent.
[b “Ms. Patterson? We have a few questions for you.”] The federal agent called to her. Leila gave Thomas Luck one final pass with her gaze and turned towards the officers with her stoic expression, and equally stoic words.
[+purple “Of course. I hope to help in any way I can.”] she left Thomas to approach the officers, but they were only looking for contact information for next of kin, and wanted to set up a time to visit with Senator Wright. All things Leila was easily able to give them on the spot. With that over Leila had no reason to remain, and truthfully she did not wish to do so. However, media had congregated in the short time after her arrival, and a crowd had gathered to see all the commotion. She hoped the other reporters were not as knowledgeable as Thomas Luck had been. Luck was his name, and Leila had none of it, for when she waked out a group instantly swarmed her with the same questions Thomas had. She gave the same answer: that she was in no position to make comments, that Senator Wright had just been informed and to expect a formal statement from his office tomorrow. By then her driver had stepped away from the car to escort her into its safe confines, away from the media and away from the crime scene.
Thomas drove through the city, towards the address that Emily ahd given him and towards the undoubtedly grisly scene that awaited him. It dawned on Tom while he drove throught he mostly empty streets that his Editor had played him, there was no way that Emily would ask Tom to look at a simple murder, even if he the victim was a prominent politician's aide. They had a night staff for a reason and Tom knew for a fact that Gary, Lucy and Sean were working tonight and any one of them could handle this in their sleep. The only reason that Emily would send Tom to a story like this was that she had a hunch and she wanted him to find it and confirm her suspicions, or at least recognise that there was something to be find. Thomas had always been funny that way, tell him for a certainty that a sheet of ice on a lake would hold his weight and the journalist wouldn't care a bit, but say that the ice had a 50-50 chance of falling through...then Tom would have to go out on the ice and find out for himself. Tom needed to know things and if he found a puzzle himself then there was nothing that would stop him from solving it.
The police presence outside the house was sizeable for a simple murder, it was to be expected given who the victim was but even so there were more than necessary. Tom could also see the beginnings of press like himself gathering, trying to be the first to the scoop and break the news to the world. Tom got out of his car and made his way over to the other members of the press, some faces he knew, others he didn't but he exchanged greetings and pleasantries trying to figure out what they knew. No one knew that much, they had mostly been given tips that some politician had been found dead, there were a few other details scattered around but none seemed to corroborate each other so it was most likely here say. Tom made his way up to one of the officers at the cordon, this was Emily's old friend, the one who had tipped her off to the whole story. He explained quietly explained that as a favour to Emily Tom could have 5 minutes to look around the scene as long as he didn't disturb it in any way. Tom didn't need to be told twice, he knew the drill, but as he stepped through the door and saw the scene even a veteran like Tom took a moment to collect himself. In his younger more thrill seeking days, Thomas had been attached to a unit of US Army Rangers and covered them during the war in Iraq and then later with the Marines in Afghanistan. He had almost been tempted to go out a third time but his wife Juliet made it clear in no uncertain terms that there was no chance of that happening again. During his time an as an embedded journalist Thomas had seen some pretty nasty things and the state of Ross Davenport's corpse would have been out of place during his time with the military.
Davenport hadn't just been murdered, he had been executed, a botched burglary was one thing but any idiot could see that that Chief of Staff had been targeted. The obvious question's were by whom and why? He glanced around the room making a few mental notes, no signs of forced entry, the rest of the rooms didn't seem to have been touched which meant beyond doubt that this had been a professional job. Unfortunately Tom didn't really have enough time to look around properly before Emily's cop friend ushered him out the scene. That was when his eye was caught by another figure, one that was neither police nor press but politician. Tom knew Leila Pattterson by reputation only, he had never actually met the women but he knew that she was capable, his brother had had a few meetings with Senator Wright and had been impressed by the brief interaction that they had shared. Impressed enough to consider trying to poach her for his own staff, although nothing had ever actually came from that thought Tom did wonder how Jack would react if he thought that he would be able to poach Leila away from Wright because of this unpleasantness with Davenport. Tom knew that Emily would never let him live it down if he didn't at least try to get something out of Leila.
The journalist made his way over to the political aide and as he approached he cleared his throat, announcing his presence. [b "Ms Patterson? Thomas Luck, New York Times. Do you have any comment to make regarding the death of Mr Davenport? Is Senator Wright aware of the situation regarding his Chief of Staff? Do you have any idea why Mr Davenport would be targeted in such a way?"] Tom didn't actually expect Leila to actually give him any answers that would actually be useful, she was far too clever than that but Tom wasn't really interested in the answers, he was interested in her reaction to his questions. It was slightly underhanded, he was betting on the fact that she would be emotionally distressed at having to see her colleague dead and would give something away that she otherwise wouldn't have let slip. It wasn't the kind of tactic that Tom particularly liked to use but sometimes it was necessary. Regardless some things were absolute, the Chief of Staff to a Senator with presidential ambitions had been the victim of a targeted killing and the odds were that it had something to do with Wright himself. This was going to be a big story and Tom wondered if Emily knew just how monumental this story was had the potential to be. Whatever was happening Tom knew that he couldn't walk away from a story like this, he had to follow it to the bitter end and find out just what where it led and what was going on.
It was late, too late for someone to be calling her phone this late at night. Even then, the sort of people calling would not be the kind she was particularly interested in. Leila Patterson was by no means asleep when her phone rang in the twilight hours of night, but out of pure ire was half tempted not to answer. Still, she figured it had to be important, and her anxiety wouldn’t allow her to not answer it. Manicured hands reached over for the buzzing and bright phone that danced about the marble top of her kitchen island, while the other hand held aloft a large glass of red wine and a cigarette. With a single glance at the name on the screen she slid her finger across the screen and answered. It was a number she had not expected to see.
[+purple “Leila Patterson speaking. You’re certain? His wife? She’s in Paris with their children. I will inform the Senator, yes. Yes I can come and verify the body. I will be there shortly. Thank you.”] Leila set the phone back down and continued to drink her wine where she was perched on a stool in her dark kitchen with no company but a lazy orange cat, her wine, and an ashtray in need of emptying.
Leila was the personal Secretary to Senator Wright and his Chief off Staff Ross... Ross was now dead, or so she’d been told. The number belonged to a detective with the Police department, but it would quickly become a federal matter once Leila verified the body. Leila supposed she should have felt bad, drinking down the last of her wine and breathing in nicotine without bothering to rush, but she didn’t. She never liked Ross... one might say this was a blessing in disguise for her. She knew she could do Ross’s job better. She wouldn’t be distracted by gold digging women, bribes and drugs. Ross, like most men, were easy to manipulate. Wright was on a path for presidency and Leila was determined to make it happen. She was young, on the cusp of turning 30 and from modest means. A graduate of The Ohio State University in Political Science, she attended law school at Duke University. She wasn’t Ivy League, but her resume impressive enough. She was Wright’s youngest, and only female aid, but she had been an Intern for a congressman from Ohio when they met. Wright had taken an interest in her and offered her a job. She could tolerate the pandering to her gender if it meant one day she’d be sitting pretty where the men where and calling the shots.
It took ten minutes for a car to come and get her. As a member of Wright’s staff and his personal secretary, certain privileges were awarded. One of those was not having to drive one’s self anywhere. Her driver also acted as a guard in any unforeseeable event. Not that Leila was one who believed she needed such a thing, but this was America, and shit could hit the fan at any moment. As Wright liked to tell her, she knew too much. That was a statement Leila couldn’t disagree with. Oh yes, she knew enough to make most people’s head turn, but she took pride in it, and in secret liked to refer to herself as: A Curator of Closeted Skeletons. So people like Thomas Luck made her nervous.
To kill time in her ride to Ross’ estate, Leila read from her news app on her phone. An expression of pure boredom was set into her face, and it never changed as she read over the newest article to become available. It seemed a little... [i beneath] a man like Luck, but she wasn’t surprised to hear about that particular CEO. He had come to Wright’s office a year or so ago, looking to ‘donate’. Leila had urged against it, not trusting the man, nor liking what she found when she researched the man’s past and his company; and while Leila wasn’t the most honest person herself, this was DC. No one can be trusted.
It was the flash of blue lights that finally caught Leila’s interest and she looked out the window as her car came to a stop out the front of the brownstone house. The Coroner was there as were several police cars, Forensics, and a steady collection of Press was beginning to form. Leila frowned at them while her driver spoke with an officer, who then let them through the small barricade. Leila stepped out of the car to the sudden shouts from two news anchors who tried to get her attention. She paid them no mind and instead followed an officer towards the house to see the grisly scene and the body herself.
The front door was wide open, but looked perfectly fine, there was no sign of forced entry anywhere. There was nothing out of place in the foyer, but as she was led further into the house, it seemed someone had turned up everything. Books were thrown to the floor, pictures torn from the walls, pillows and cushion’s sliced open. Leila frowned, and wondered if the upstairs looked the same, and what the culprit was looking for.
She smelled the blood before she saw it. The officer escorting her tried to warn her of what she would see, but Leila had seen her own share of horror in her life. Her nose wrinkled with discomfort from the smell and she looked to see Ross Davenport, still in his suit from the day, but sporting two gunshot wounds to his head at point blank range. Execution Style. Two officers looked up and eyed Leila suspiciously.
[+purple “Jesus, you sure you just don’t want his dental records?”] Leila asked, startling the Coroner who was bent over the victim’s body.
[i “Ah, you must be Ms. Patterson. Mr. Davenport’s... assistant?”]
[+purple “Yes. I’m Leila Patterson. I am Senator Wright’s personal Secretary, and Ross Davenport’s Assistant.”]
[i “Perfect, can you verify this body?”] Leila leaned over to look at Ross’ face... or at least what was left of it.
[+purple “That’s definitely Ross. He wore that suit today... fuck... excuse me, I need to make a phon call...”]
[b “Oh Ms. Patterson, please don’t go anywhere too far, we would like to ask you some questions.”] An officer called. Leila glanced back, her expression still melancholy, but gave a nod of her head. She wouldn’t be running off. So instead she made her way back to the untouched foyer and took her phone out to call Wright and deliver the bad news.
Thomas had finished typing several minutes earlier but now he was staring at the computer screen, reading the article one more time before he published it. It was solid, he knew it was, he had worked months on this story and knew that everything in it was both important and true. Tom hit one last key on the keyboard and the story was submitted, Tom idly wondered how many death threats this particular story would give him, he always seemed to get a few even if what he wrote wasn't always a matter of life and death. This particular story was about to make a lot of people lose a lot of money. It was a story about a Fortune 500 company CEO who had been embezzling company funds to line his own pockets, in many ways it was a tale as old as time; the tale of human greed. It wouldn't take long for Tom's article to attract attention, anytime a two time Pulitzer Prize winning journalist posted a story people took notice, and as a result the stock of the company in Tom's article would plummet. Shareholders were about to lose a lot of money. With the article published Tom finally relaxed and slumped in his chair, he glanced at his watch, he knew it was late but he hadn't realised that it was after midnight now although looking outside his office you wouldn't guess that it was the middle of the night. A national newspaper was a job that didn't really conformed to a normal working day, and after working here for 20 years Tom knew that all too well and so did his wife. Juliet had never been overly fond of the many late nights but she knew that it was necessary and that this wasn't just a job to her husband, it was who he was. If Tom had to choose between the news and his wife Juliet knew which he would pick, and she had made her peace with that. Even so they had a good and happy life together.
It had barely been a minute since he had published his article and his phone was already ringing, and he was only marginally surprised to see that it was his brother calling. [b "Jack? What are you doing up this late? Haven't you got a meeting in the morning?"] [+red "I just saw your article, it's good, not your best work but still pretty good..."] Even through the phone Tom could practically see his brother's smirk. [+red "...and I really do have to thank you for this. I just a made a speech about how these big businesses only look out for themselves. My support from small business owners was on the up and this only confirms my position. That support will skyrocket now. You've just expanded my support and with a very influential group as well."] [b "I didn't do it for you Jack, I did it because it was the truth, the and the story served the public good. They deserved to know."] It was always a balancing act with Tom and his brother. Jack was a career politician and was on the rise to proper power. He had recently been elected to the House of Representatives but was already working on becoming popular enough both inside political circles and with the public to run for the Senate. The only thing that matched Jack's ambition was his skill. he was a formidable force but Tom had decided long ago that he was having nothing to do with his brother's career, if his stories hurt or helped his brother so be it. Let the let the chips fall where they may. [+red "I know that Tom, but still it puts me in a strong position moving forward. That's not why I called though, It's been a while since I've seen you. We've both been busy so what do you think about coming round for dinner on Saturday? It would be nice to catch up."] [b "I'll check with Juliet and get back to you but I think that it will probably be fine. I'll see you then. Goodbye Jack."]
Tom grabbed his jacket and was almost out the door when a staffer caught him and told him that Emily wanted to speak with him. That took him by surprise, Emily Daniels was his Editor and why she was here at this hour Tom wasn't sure but if she wanted to speak with him it was probably important. He made his way across the floor and into his friend and boss's office. [b "What the hell are you doing here at this time of night, you should be at home."] Emily looked at Tom with a look on her face that clearly said that he was being an idiot. [+blue "I'm here because you're here Tom. I know well enough by now that if you're here at this hour then you're working on a story, and a reasonably important one at that. That means that I've got to be here."] At least Tom had the decency to look sheepish, of course his editor would want to check what he was writing, likely she already knew, there was nothing that went on at this paper that Emily didn't know about, it was uncanny. [b "I'm sorry Emily, but at least now you can go and get some sleep, I know it's what I'm going to do."] [+blue "Not quite yet it's not. I know it's late but I think I might have just found you a new story. It's being kept quiet for now but it won't last until morning. Senator Wright's Chief of Staff Ross Davenport has just been found murdered. An old friend in the Police Department gave me the tip. I know it's a little mundane considering what you normally report on but would you check it out as a favour to me?"] Tom looked at his Editor, he had been friends with Emily almost as long as he had been at the paper, they had joined around the same time and he knew she wouldn't ask unless thought it was the right thing to do. [b "Of course I will Em. I'll see what I can find out and let you know. Sleep is overrated anyway."]
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