“Exactly my point, Commander. And due to her key involvement, the public interest in her personal and professional life, we need her on-screen as often as can be managed.”
“No.”
“Lieutenant.”
She forced herself to speak calmly when she turned at Tibble’s voice. “No, sir, I will not take my time and energies away from an investigation to play department mouthpiece. I will not play a part in giving a group responsible for the death of a fellow officer and the possible paralysis of another the attention they seek. I should be out in the field now, not standing here debating the ramifications of the term ‘reasonable safety.’ ”
“You’ve used the media when it’s suited you, Lieutenant Dallas.”
“Yes, sir. And when I have I’ve done so using my own words, not spouting off scripted pap. And my personal life is just that, and has nothing to do with this investigation.”
“The expert civilian consultant on your team has a great deal to do with your personal life. Lieutenant,” Tibble continued, “I sympathize with your position, and with your desire for privacy. But if we don’t play this game well, Purity will not only get their media attention, but will continue to build support. Mr. Chang has the results of polls.”
“Polls?” Eve couldn’t keep the furious disgust out of her voice. “We took polls?”
“Two of the media services had polls generated before eleven this morning.” Chang took a memo book from his pocket. “The mayor’s office conducted its own, for internal purposes. When asked if they considered the group known as The Purity Seekers to be a terrorist organization, fifty-eight percent of the respondents said no. When asked if they were concerned for their personal safety, forty-three percent responded yes. Naturally, we would like to see both those numbers decrease.”
“You amaze me,” Eve murmured.
“The facts are these,” Tibble said. “A strong majority of the public perceive this group exactly as they wish to be perceived. Additional polls show little to no sympathy for Cogburn and Fitzhugh, nor regret for the manner of their deaths. It’s neither possible nor politically prudent to attempt to generate sympathy for those individuals. The system is what must be defended.”
“And the system must have a face,” Chang added. “It must be personalized.”
“This is a fine line, Lieutenant,” Tibble continued. “If this group is publicly damned with the wrong tone, there could be a panic. Businesses shutting down in fear of using their electronics. Individuals afraid to turn on their data centers. People flooding into health centers and emergency centers because they have a headache or a damn nosebleed.”
“We need people and industry to remain calm and secure,” Franco put in. “It’s essential we show that we’re controlling this situation.”
“Purity hasn’t, thus far, targeted anyone outside a specific profile,” Eve began.
“Precisely.” Franco nodded. “And that, Lieutenant Dallas, is the key message the mayor, all of us, want to send. The family in the downtown loft has no cause for alarm. The midtown café can continue business as usual. Purity’s agenda does not include them.”
“So far.”
Franco’s eyebrows lifted. “Do you have reason to believe otherwise?”
“I have reason to believe vigilantes grow to like their work. That power, unchecked, will corrupt its own agenda. That violence, given impunity and approval, breeds more.”
“This is good,” Chang said, pulling out his notebook again. “With adjustments—”
“Don’t mess with me, Chang, or you’ll be eating that book.”
“Dallas.” Whitney got to his feet. “We’re all on the same side. Tools and methods may vary, but the end goal is the same for all of us. Forget the polls and the politics for a moment. You know enough about human nature to understand that without a solid spin, people will begin to see this group as heroes. They’ll see criminals,
predators who slithered through the system’s fingers finally meeting justice. Tonight our children are safe because someone took a stand.”
“Justice doesn’t hide behind anonymity. It doesn’t operate without rules of conduct.”
“That, in a nutshell, is the point. Press conference at sixteen-thirty, Central’s media center. Be there at sixteen hundred to be briefed and prepped.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We all have our jobs, Lieutenant.” Franco reached down, picked up a sleek leather briefcase. “And portions of those jobs are distasteful or annoying. But at the core, it’s the safety of this city that concerns all of us.”
“Agreed, ma’am. Fortunately my concern isn’t contingent on polls or votes.”
Franco’s lips curved. “I was told you were a hard-ass. Good. So am I. Chief Tibble, Commander Whitney.” She gestured to Chang, then strode out on her snazzy shoes.
“Lieutenant.” Tibble remained in his position of power at the desk. “You will be required to work with Deputy Mayor Franco on this situation. I expect you to cooperate with her and the mayor’s office, and to afford her the respect that office deserves. Is that understood?”