“Suspended sentences?”

He nodded.

“Who’s he paying off?” she asked quickly.

Smythe shrugged. “Everybody.”

She smiled. “Come on, Leander—this is Virtue you’re talking to, not some slob in your newsroom. You know what I want.”

“Why not just put the pressure on Brett?” he asked in a tone of voice that implied he knew the answer as well as she did.

“How do you pressure a man who knows he can’t go to jail?” she replied. “The name, please.”

“I don’t know any other name,” he said.

“Not smart, Leander,” she said ominously. “Not smart at all.”

“It’s the truth,” he replied defensively.

“I know another name, though,” she said. “The name I know is Leander Smythe. I even know some facts to go with the name. Want to hear them?”

“No,” he said, puffing rapidly on his cigarette.

“They’re interesting facts,” she continued. “They’re all about how he falsified evidence on his first big story and helped send an innocent man to jail for eight years.”

“You covered for me, for Christ’s sake!” he hissed. “If you knew he was innocent, why didn’t you block the story when you had the chance?”

“Oh, he deserved to go to jail,” she said pleasantly. “He was a bastard from the word go, and the police had been trying to nail him for years.” She stared seriously at him. “But the fact remains that he was innocent of the charges that were brought against him based on your information.”

“Then you should have said something at the time.”

“I did,” she replied, finishing her drink. “I told you that you owed me a favor in exchange for my silence, and that someday I’d be by to collect it.”

“You know,” he said unhappily, “I never did like you much. You were always too ambitious, always scheming and plotting.”

“Why should I deny it?” she said calmly. “I’ll only add that it’s people like you who made it easy.”

“What’ll you do when you finally get to the top, and there are no more bodies to climb over?”

“Mostly, I’ll enjoy it,” she replied. “And I’ll protect myself a hell of a lot better than the rest of you ever did.”

“How many other favors have you stockpiled over the years?” he asked bitterly.

“A few.”

“And how many other people have you blackmailed with them?”

“I’m not blackmailing you, Leander,” replied Virtue. “I have other leads. If you don’t want to do me a favor, you don’t have to. Just forget I asked.”

“You mean it?”

“Absolutely.” She paused. “Of course, I’ll have to pay a visit to your superiors. After all, I’m a journalist—and what you did qualifies as news, even after all these years.” She smiled. “Don’t worry; you won’t go to jail for it—but you’d better find a new profession.”