“We have some clients. They busy, they this, they that. So they asked us to get with you,” Heidi said. “In certain situations, come what may and so forth, you got to be direct. If you know what I mean.”

Vera didn’t know. Apparently, Winnow did, because she had put forth her lower lip in an expression of worldly fatigue. Baby was staring straight into Vera as if she might be able to supply an alternate to Heidi’s words by force of thought. She was worried about something. Somehow Vera thought it best to agree with Heidi. “Sure,” she said.

“We got some private information. About a man where you working. The man.”

Vera was stumped.

“The boss of you,” Heidi said.

“The green Vespa,” Winnow said. She couldn’t help herself; she had to interrupt.

Baby looked suddenly confused.

“You know!” Winnow said.

Baby nodded.

Green Vespa was Gordon Bray, the managing editor, and it was not one jot of a surprise these charmers knew of him, given her parking-garage encounter with him not all that long ago. “Baby says hi,” he’d said to her that night. What had he gotten himself into?

“Vespa’s a customer,” Heidi said, frowning.

“You can’t go at it that way!” Winnow exploded. She pushed herself out of Heidi’s way and put her face up into Vera’s. She had sheen for skin. Her lips were like big petals. “Now, look here, Lois Lane,” Winnow said. “You report an army crash. The army don’t like it. They tried to get your snippy nose out of it, but you too dumb to know it. That boss of you? He’s all up the britches of every tyke out here. Could cause problems. For him. For you. So maybe that crash should stay crashed. That way, your boss, his private business, can stay private. Catch my drift?”

Adam had always suspected. There’d been plenty of suggestive coincidences. He’d just never had the correct sequence of events. As he’d hoped, Gordon Bray had picked up the details. Gordon got out more. He mixed in certain circles. He knew people on the inside track. One of them had brought home the goods on Don Grady.

The gist of it was simple. Grady often had information that the newsroom needed. Over the years, he’d agreed to share it with Adam. Adam and he would evaluate. Did the other paper have it? (The other paper was all Adam cared about. The lesser papers were lesser. Television was no serious rival, just village idiot in an overpriced suit that bumbled into news. Magazines were starlets, pretty to look at but demanding too much time and attention.)