"I thought the police might need it for evidence if he ever got a new trial. The original's locked in my desk."
Sutton closed the file. Said, "I guess I'm looking at quite a judge of human character. You're, what, some justice psychic? You get the vibes that this man's innocent and that's that? Listen, dear, at the risk of sounding like a journalism professor let me tell you something. There's only one thing that matters in news: the truth. That's all. You've got a goddamn feeling this man is innocent, well, good for you. But you go asking questions based on rumors, just because you get some kind of psychic fax that Boggs is innocent, well, that bullshit'll sink a news department real fast. Not to mention your career. Unsupported claims're cyanide in this business."
Rune said, "I was going to do the story right. I know how to research. I know how to interview. I wasn't going to go with anything that wasn't ..." Oh, hell: corroborated or collaborated'? Which was it? Rune wasn't good with sound-alike words. "... backed up."
Sutton calmed. "All right, what you're saying is you have a hunch and you want to check it out."
"I guess I am."
"You guess you are." Sutton nodded then pointed her cigarette at Rune. "Let me ask you a question."
"Shoot."
"I'm not suggesting that you not pursue this story."
Rune tried to sort out the nots.
Sutton continued, "I'd never suggest that a reporter shouldn't go after a story he feels strongly about."
Rune nodded, wrestling with this batch of negatives.
"But I just wonder if your efforts aren't a little misplaced. Boggs had his day in court and even if there were some minor irregularities at trial, well, so what?
"But I just have this feeling he's innocent. What can it hurt to look into it?"
Sutton's matte face scanned the room slowly then homed in on the young woman. She said in a low voice, "Are you sure you're not doing a story about you?"
Rune blinked. "Me?"
"Are you doing a story about Randy Boggs or about a young, ambitious journalist?" Sutton smiled again, a smile of fake innocence, and said, "What're you concerned with most--telling the truth about Boggs or making a name for yourself?"
Rune didn't speak for a minute. "I think he's innocent."
"I'm not going to debate the matter with you. I'm simply asking the question. Only you can answer it. And I think you've got to do a lot of soul-searching to answer it honestly.... What happens if--I won't say it turns out he's innocent because I don't think he is--but if you find some new evidence that can convince a judge to grant him a new trial? And Boggs gets released pending that trial? And what if he robs a convenience store and kills the clerk or a customer in the process?"
Rune looked away, unable to sort out her thoughts. Too many tough questions. What the anchorwoman said made a lot of sense. She said, "I think he's innocent." But her voice was uncertain. She hated the sound. Then she said firmly, "It's a story that's got to be done."
Sutton gazed at her for a long moment, then asked, "You ever budgeted a segment on a news program? You ever assigned personnel? You ever worked with unions?"
"I'm union. I'm a camera--"
Sutton's voice rose. "Don't be stupid. I know you're union. I'm asking if you've ever dealt with the trades, as management?"
"No."
Sutton said abruptly, "Okay, whatever you do, it isn't going to be as sole producer. You're too inexperienced."
"Don't worry, I'm, like, real--"
Sutton's mouth twisted. "Enthusiastic? A fast learner? Hard working? Is that what you were going to say?"
"I'm good. That's what I was going to say."
"Miracles can happen," Sutton said, pointing a long ruddy finger at Rune. "You can be assistant producer. You can report and you can ..." Sutton grinned. "like' write the story. Assuming you write more articulately than you speak. But I want somebody who's been around for a while to be in charge. You're way too--"
Rune stood up and put her hands on the desktop. Sutton leaned back and blinked. Rune said, "I'm not a child! I came here to tell you about a story I think is going to be good for you and for the Network and all you do is insult me. I didn't have to come here. I could've gone to the competition. I could've just sat on the story and done it myself. But--"
Sutton laughed and held her hand up. "Come on, babes, spare me, please. I don't need to see your balls. Everybody in this business has 'em or they'd be out on their ear in five minutes. I'm not impressed." She picked up her pen, glancing down at the document in front of her. "You want to do the story, go see Lee Maisel. You'll work for him."