“You said the two men were Secret Service. Are you basing that on anything other than the fact that Secret Service agents wear sleeve mikes?”

Goodwin thought about it for a moment. He shook his head. “Just my own personal opinion. Maybe I watch too much TV. Look, everyone in this town knows that guy Lincoln Moss is married to the model on the front page. He didn’t want her picture splashed all over a tabloid, so he sent the President’s goons here. That’s my feeling. Can I prove it? Hell no I can’t. It’s done, the retraction is ready to go.

“Oh, wait a minute, there is one other thing. The day after those men were here, a messenger came by with a letter. Inside was a check for sixty-six thousand dollars drawn on the Royal Bank of Scotland. Pam told me earlier the check cleared this morning.”

“So, you’re good with all this?” Nikki asked, the lawyer in her surfacing. “By that I mean you’re okay with someone’s dictating to you what you print in your paper. Aren’t you up on your First Amendment rights, and all that freedom-of-the-press stuff, Mr. Goodwin?”

“I think I value peace of mind and nights that I can sleep and not worry about someone out there possibly, I say possibly, trying to do me harm. In the scheme of things, that model, and did she or didn’t she have plastic surgery, mean nothing to me compared to my own well-being. Call me selfish. I don’t care. Does that answer your question about First Amendment rights and freedom of the press?”

Nikki and Kathryn stared at Goodwin with cold, unblinking eyes. Nikki toyed with the gold shield she was holding in her hand. Seeing what she was doing, Kathryn spit on hers and then proceeded to shine the shield on her pant leg.

“You have nothing to do with those two guys, do you?” Goodwin asked nervously.

“That would be correct,” Nikki said.

“Does that mean you’re ah . . . legal and they aren’t?”

“That would be correct,” Nikki lied.

“Well, in that case, I guess I might as well turn over what I kept, which is a copy of everything. I’m not a complete fool. But, I want a receipt. No receipt, no nothing.”

Nikki waved her shield in the air. Kathryn dropped hers on the desk. It landed with a solid thunk. They waited until Goodwin pressed a buzzer on his desk and spoke into it. “Pam, bring me that file I had you put in the safe the other day.”

“How many copies did you make?” Kathryn asked.

“Just one. I’m not lying. You can have it, but you have to sign off on it.”

Kathryn laughed, and so did Nikki.

“How about we just take you with us, and you can explain all of this to some other very important people. Oh, my goodness, will you look at the time? We’ve overstayed our ten minutes. What’s it going to be, Mr. Goodwin?”