One morning I went in to see Greg Glenn, the city editor, and told him I'd like to do a take out on the Lofton case.

That was my specialty, my beat. Long takes on the notable murders of the Rocky Mountain Empire. To use a newspaper clichd, my expertise was going behind the headlines to bring you the real story. So I went to Glenn and reminded him I had an in. It was my brother's case, I said, and he'd only talk to me about it. Glenn didn't hesitate to consider the time and effort Jackson had already put on the story. I knew that he wouldn't. All he cared about was getting a story the Post didn't have. I walked out of the office with the assignment. My mistake was that I told Glenn I had the in before I had talked to my brother. The next day I walked the two blocks from the Rocky to the cop shop and met him for lunch in the cafeteria. I told him about my assignment.

Sean told me to turn around. "Go back, Jack. I can't help you."

"What are you talking about? It's your case."

"It's my case but I'm not cooperating with you or anybody else who wants to write about it. I've given the basic details, that's all I'm required to do, that's where it stays."

He looked off across the cafeteria. He had an annoying habit of not looking at you when you disagreed with him.

When we were little, I would jump on him when he did it and punch him on the back. I couldn't do that anymore, though many times I wanted to.

"Sean, this is a good story. You have"

"I don't have to do anything and I don't give a shit what kind of story it is. This one is bad, Jack. Okay? I can't- stop thinking about it. And I'm not going to help you sell newspapers with it."

"C'mon, man, I'm a writer. Look at me. I don't care if it sells papers or not. The story is the thing. I don't give a shit about the paper. You know how I feel about that."

He finally turned back to me.

"Now you know how I feel about this case," he said.

I was silent a moment and took out a cigarette. I was down to maybe half a pack a day back then and could have skipped it but I knew it bothered him. So I smoked when I wanted to work on him.

"This isn't a smoking section, Jack."

"Then turn me in. At least you'll be arresting somebody. "

"Why are you such an asshole when you don't get what you want?"

"Why are you? You aren't going to clear it, are you?

That's what this is all about. You don't want me digging around and writing about your failure. You're giving up."

"Jack, don't try the below-the-belt shit. You know it's never worked."