"He never commented."

"Why not?"

"The guy's a reporter. He knew better. Look, stories like these become the worst kind of brushfire. Only way to get the fire out is to stop feeding the flame. No matter how bad, if there's nothing new to report--nothing new to feed the flame--it dies out. People always make the mistake of thinking they can douse the flame with their words, that they're so smart, their explanations will work like water or something. It's always a mistake to talk to the press. Everything--even wonderfully worded denials--feed the flames and keep it stoked."

"But doesn't silence make you look guilty?"

"He is guilty, Myron. Stan could only get himself in more trouble by talking. And if he hung around and tried to defend himself, someone would dig into his past too. Mainly his old columns. All of them. Every fact, every quote, everything. And if you've plagiarized one story, you've plagiarized others. You don't do it for the first time when you're Stan's age."

"So you think he was trying to minimize the damage?"

Bruce smiled, took a sip. "That Duke education," he said. "It wasn't wasted on you." He grabbed more pretzels. "Mind if I order a sandwich?"

"Suit yourself."

"It'll be worth it," Bruce said with a suddenly big smile. "Because I haven't yet mentioned the last little tidbit that convinced him to keep quiet."

"What's that?"

"It's big, Myron." The smile slid off his face. "Very big."

"Fine, order fries too."

"I don't want this to become public knowledge, you understand?"

"Come on, Bruce. What?"

Bruce turned back to the bar. He picked up a cocktail napkin and tore it in half. "You know the feds took Stan to court to find his sources."

"Yes."

"The court documents were kept sealed, but there was a bit of nastiness. See, they wanted Stan to provide some sort of corroboration. Something to show he didn't totally make the story up. He wouldn't offer any. For a while he claimed that only the families could back him and he wouldn't give them up. But the judge pressed. He finally admitted that there was one other person who could back his story."

"Back up his made-up story?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

"His mistress," Bruce said.

"Stan was married?"

"Guess the word 'mistress' gave it away," Bruce said. "Anyway, he was. Still is, technically, but now they're separated. Naturally Stan was hesitant about naming her--he loved his wife, had two kids, the backyard, whatever--but in the end he gave the judge her name under the condition that it stay sealed."

"Did the mistress back him?"

"Yes. This mistress--one Melina Garston--claimed to have been with him when he met the Sow the Seeds psycho."

Myron's brow creased. "Why does that name ring a bell?"

"Because Melina Garston is dead now. Tied and tortured and you don't want to know what."

"When?"

"Three months ago. Right after the shit hit Stan's fan. Worse, the police think Stan did it."

"To keep her from telling the truth?"