Deadline (7 page)

“
The sooner the better,
Katie,” smiled the security guard.

Chapter 18

Toronto Daily Express 9:05
AM

AS KATIE Cannon stepped off the
elevator on the third floor, she almost bowled over a small, mousey
looking man carrying an armful of stacked folders.

Staring at her through an oversized
pair of large, geeky-looking black glasses was Thomas Philpott, the
paper’s librarian and researcher.

“
Oh, there you are Miss
Cannon,” he lisped in a squeaky voice reminiscent of Truman Capote.
“I have that background material on the Wolfman killings you asked
me for.” He thrust forward a red folder jammed with news clippings
and other material.

“
Thank you, Thomas. That
was quick work.” Katie answered politely, shaking off a bit of a
chill. She always found Thomas Philpott to be a bit creepy. He was
something of a loner surrounded by his dusty books and files in the
newspaper library.

Philpott was certainly not the most
sociable person, but he was a treasure in digging up the most
obscure facts for reporters. Most of them treated him respectfully
to his face, but behind his back there were many who teased his
effeminate mannerisms. Most were convinced he was gay. Cannon
rather thought of him as asexual and probably still a
virgin.

Cannon moved toward her desk in the
busy newsroom. Many reporters were already at their workstations.
Some were phoning contacts for news tips, others were typing on
their computers. A few people were sitting with their feet up on
their desks sipping coffee and reading the morning newspapers,
including the competition to see what stories they had.

Katie booted up her computer and
immediately went to her overnight e-mails. There were 46 new
e-mails listed.

About half of them were spam that
evaded the newspaper’s filtering system. She deleted the junk mail
and scanned through the rest.

Many were comments from readers about
some of her stories, others news tips from sources, but then there
was one marked urgent that immediately caught her
attention.

It was flagged Wolfman and time dated
at 7:03 a.m. today.

As Katie read the message, her entire
body shuddered.

News Bitch:

The first thing we do,
let’s kill all the lawyers – Shakespeare, Henry VI Part
2.

I’ve made a start with the
female law bitches in victim #8. Her tongue will join the others in
my collection of silenced whores who do not know their proper
place.

I’m giving you a gift of
another story to write about. But you continue to twist the truth
and lie about me.

You continue to paint me
as a sick, psychotic individual when all these bitches deserve what
they got. They think they are better than men and try to dominate
us by taking positions of power. No more. They will all live in
fear. I am the sword of vengeance!

It falls to me to start a
fight to cut out the cancer of bent and twisted journalism in our
country. Women like you who write about us as if we are sick
animals. You need to be put in your place.

Be seeing you!

The Wolfman

Cannon sat for a moment to catch her
breath.

The Wolfman had started sending her
e-mails after victim number two. They taunted the police and
offered her grisly details of the killings, but this was the first
one to actually threaten her.

Death threats were nothing new to
journalists, but most were usually dismissed as the ravings of
people who would never carry them out. The Wolfman was different.
Cannon took this threat seriously.

She had forwarded the other e-mails to
the police who had been trying to track down the source through
their IT people, but they doubted he would be foolish enough to
send them from his home computer. He would more likely be using
public terminals.

Cannon picked up the phone and called
Homicide. She asked for Detective Sergeant Peter Moon.

“
Moon here. What’s your
problem?” he answered.

“
Peter, this is Katie
Cannon at the Daily Express. I’ve just received another e-mail from
the Wolfman about his latest victim.”

“
Well, just forward it on
to me and we’ll get the IT boys to run a trace. He keeps sending
these things to you. He must like what you write about him. You’re
becoming his press agent.”

“
Not quite, Peter. I think
in this one he’s telling me I’m going to be his next
victim!”

Chapter 19

Braden Young’s Office 9:20
AM

“
RIGHT, LET’S get this
show on the road,” said Braden Young, looking up from the sheet of
paper in front of him.

He was seated at a conference table in
his glass-walled office staring at six other people around the oval
shaped walnut table in high backed swivel chairs.

Like Knights of the Round Table, these
were his sub-editors ready to begin jousting at the daily news
story meeting. Each would pitch their section stories to Young for
consideration on the front page or one of the first six pages of
tomorrow’s paper.

Discussion could get hot and heavy
some days when there was a feast of good news stories. Editors
would pitch their stories with passion and enthusiasm on behalf of
their reporters.

On slow new days, the discussion would
be less heated when it was fairly obvious which stories should get
the prime pages. On those days achieving consensus was easy. When
consensus wasn’t easily achieved, the final decision would rest
with Braden Young, the managing editor.

True to the Harry S. Truman adage,
“the buck stops here!”

In the news business, it was usually
feast or famine. Today was shaping up as a feast.

“
Braden, it looks like a
plethora of great news stories today,” said Paul O’ Connor. “There
are lots of good choices if they all pan out.”

“
What’s shaping up as our
top line story?” Young inquired. He stared down at the list of
story titles in front of him.

“
Clearly it’s the Wolfman.
He struck again last night. Another victim’s body was found this
morning – a young female lawyer,” said Michael Owen, the paper’s
city editor.

He leaned forward on the table as if
to give further emphasis to his urgency on behalf of the story.
“Katie Cannon is on it and will have a story today on the latest
developments. It’s obviously a front page top line banner
story.”

“
What’s the headline:
Wolfman Kills Shark,” joked Ted Morrow, the national editor. “Come
on, we’re giving this creep way too much front page play. Not to
mention terrifying most of the women in this city. Let’s get back
to getting real news on the front page.”

“
And what do you consider
real news, Ted?” Owen shot back.

“
We have a good advance
story on tomorrow’s visit of the Prime Minister to the White
House,” replied Morrow. This is a historic visit. Some key issues
between our two countries will be discussed. These include the
ongoing border hassles and the free trade agreement.”

“
Booo-ring!” cried out
Owen. “Who the hell cares about this meeting? This crazy killer is
running amok in the city and women are not safe until he’s caught
and put out of action. I think that trumps anything else on the
story agenda.”

“
All of us should care!”
shouted Morrow. “This is huge international news with our biggest
trading partner. Some of the issues on the agenda are refining the
North American Free Trade Agreement, future strategy in Afghanistan
and Iraq and North American security and border crossing issues.
These issues could have a significant impact on the lives of both
Canadians and Americans.”

“
Agreed, its important Ted
and deserves a place somewhere near the front of the paper,” said
Young. “But we’ll have to wait and see if it’s top line. This
Wolfman stuff is of greater interest to our readers, I believe. Is
there anything on the international scene, Amanda?”

Braden Young turned to Amanda Scott,
the international affairs editor, who was busy doodling on a
notepad.

“
Nothing that likely would
merit front page at this time.” She put down her pen and looked
directly at Young.

Scott was a middle-aged blonde who had
started her career on the society pages as many women reporters
did, but climbed her way through the ranks building a reputation as
a tough, hardnosed reporter not afraid to tackle edgy
stories.

She had changed papers several times
seeking more challenging roles and served a two-year stint overseas
as a correspondent for Reuters news agency. Her credentials as an
international reporter are what led Braden Young to offer her a
position as the Daily Express international affairs
editor.

“
Trevor Trevanian…,” Scott
began.

“
Trevanian?” asked Owen.
“What’s that prima donna up to now?”

“
Our man in Afghanistan,”
snorted another of the editors at the table. “Busting the lid off
the camel trade.”

“
As I was saying,” Scott
continued with some annoyance at the interruptions. “Trevanian will
likely have a story on our rebuilding efforts there, but it’s
likely to be inside stuff,” said Scott. I haven’t seen any copy yet
and he hasn’t been in touch for several hours. There is of course
that eight-and-a-half hour time difference. Perhaps he’s working on
something else.”

“
Okay thanks, Amanda. What
about the entertainment beat, Alexandra? Anything lively
there?”

Alexandra Stewart, the entertainment
editor, smiled flirtatiously at Young, flicking back her long
auburn locks. Stewart had a patrician face that exuded a sense of
class. She was always dressed to the nines, with perfect makeup and
immaculate nail polish. She looked very much like a movie star
herself.

“
Things are always lively
in Hollywood, Braden. That young bimbo singer, Alicia Long, has
been in another car accident and busted for her third DUI incident.
It’s likely she’ll finally face some jail time. Maybe it’ll
straighten her out. That kid needs something to help her before she
kills herself or someone else.”

Stewart looked down
briefly at her notes then turned her face back to Braden Young. “We
also have a profile on that hot young hunk actor Brad Bond who is
promoting his new action romance thriller,
Sins of the Fathers
.”

Young rested his head on his right
hand and thought for a moment.

“
Front page of the
Entertainment section would be good play for the profile piece,’”
said Young. “It’s a good draw for our female readers. Play the
singer DUI story further inside. I think readers are getting tired
of some of these celebrity excesses.”

Young took a swig from his cup of
black coffee. “What’s new in the world of sports,
Steve?”

He turned to Steve Simons, the paper’s
sports editor. Simons looked nothing like a jock. He was short,
squat and balding at the back of his head with a wisp of hair in
the forefront. He had a pince-nez bridging his nose and large bushy
grey eyebrows.

Simons looked as if he’d eaten at too
many sports press box buffets, with an expanding waistline bulging
over the top of the desk.

“
Well, the Blue Jays are
starting a three-game home stand with the Red Sox tonight, trying
to end their six game winless streak,” said Simons. “There are
strong insider rumors that if they lose this series, the manager
will be fired. The Argos will play in Hamilton this weekend and
could get a stranglehold on first place in the Eastern conference
of the CFL if they beat the Tiger-Cats. They’re currently four
points ahead of Montreal.”

Simons took a bite out of a donut in
front of him, paused a moment and let out a loud belch. The others
just ignored him as if nothing had happened. That was just Steve
being Steve.

Simons continued: “We’ve also got a
lot of wire copy on the PGA Tour, tennis, soccer and a story about
a possible big off-season hockey trade between the Toronto Maple
Leafs and the Anaheim Mighty Ducks.”

“
Okay, sounds like a solid
line-up and a busy day ahead,” said Young. “Any other stories I
should know about?”

Paul O’Connor cleared his throat,
hesitated a moment, then spoke out.

“
Well we might have bit of
a controversy with an investigative piece that’s coming together.
It’s on a construction kickback scandal involving the mayor and a
couple of city councilors with that new harbor front condo
development.”

“
Great, love a good
scandal piece,” said Young. “There is nothing better than nailing
these crooked pieces of shit who violate the public trust and line
their own pockets. Who is on the story?”

“
Our new reporter
Donna-Marie Pierce has been working several days on this and we’ve
just nailed the final proof,” said O’Connor. “She has copies of
documents with names attached and evidence of some large deposits
to certain bank accounts offshore.”

“
Okay, this could really
make her name. But she’s still kind of green so, Paul, I’m counting
on you to make sure everything is ironclad. Make certain all the
I’s are dotted and the T’s crossed on this one. We don’t need a
lawsuit. Fly the copy by Legal before running it.”