“I’m here,” I said.

“Help me out, Eric. You’ve looked these folks in the eye. What does your gut tell you? Is this for real?”

I thought a moment. “I think it’s true. I think Abelard was hospitalized. I think he’s on medication. The sources have no reason to lie to me. I’m not even sure they want us to run the story.”

“Then why did they give it to us?” As far as Weiss was concerned, there were no innocent transactions. Every leaker had a motive.

“Because I asked them for information about Abelard, and they thought this might be relevant.” I thought about Rupert. His self-proclaimed motivation was that he wanted a job. “In the case of one source, he may be hoping we’ll do something for him down the road. But a lot of sources are like that, and I didn’t promise him anything. I don’t think we’re being set up.”

“Shit,” said Weiss. “This is going to be a bitch. Have you talked to Abelard yet?”

“No,” I answered. “But he may have heard something already from his shrink in Pittsburgh.”

“Well, I think you have to call him right away. Go see him in his office. Today, if you can. I think you need to go over this stuff, point by point. Do the reporting. That’s always the right answer, isn’t it? Then we’ll talk about it with the lawyers and figure out what to do.”

“What should I say if Abelard asks whether we’re going to run it?”

“Tell him we don’t know. I mean, that’s the truth. It makes us sound pathetic, but it’s the truth. We won’t really know whether to run it until we see how he reacts. He may admit it, say it’s true, say he wants to strike a blow for open discussion of mental illness by going on the record. He may deny it, convince us our sources are full of shit. How can I say now whether we’re going to run it? But we do need to talk to him right away.”

“Okay,” I said. “Will do.”

“And we need to keep this quiet within the bureau. Please. If this gets out prematurely, we’re screwed.”

“We’ll keep the lid on, Ed,” said Marcus.

“Eric, this isn’t going to be fun,” said Weiss. “This is going to be pain. P-A-I-N. Remember, this is why we pay you the big bucks. So you’ll have no compunction telling a beloved member of the United States Senate that The New York Mirror is about to blow his most private secrets. Do good. See if you can nail it.”

The executive editor hung up.

I went to see Abelard the next day in his Senate office. It was the strangest, saddest encounter I had ever had as a reporter.