Hard News (Rune 3)

As she told him about receiving his letter and about the story she grew agitated. It wasn't the surroundings; it was Boggs himself. The intensity of his calmness. Which didn't really make sense but she thought about it and decided that was what she sensed: He was so peaceful that she felt her own pulse rising, her breath coming quickly-- as if her body were behaving this natural way because his couldn't.

Still, she ignored her own feelings and got to work. Rune had interviewed people before. She'd put the camera in front of them, washed them in the hot light from Redhead lamps and then asked them a hundred questions. She'd gotten tongue-tied some and maybe asked the wrong questions but her talent was in getting people to open up.

Boggs, though, took a lot of work. Even though he'd written the letter to the station he was uneasy around reporters. "Don't think I'm not grateful." He spoke in a soft voice; a slight southern accent licked at his words. "But I'm ... Well, I don't mean this personal, directed at you, miss, but you're the people convicted me."

"How?"

"Well, miss, you know the expression 'media circus'? I'd never heard that before but when I read about my trial afterwards I found out what they mean. I wasn't the only person who felt that way. Somebody who got interviewed in Time said that's what my trial was. I wrote a letter to Mr. Megler and to the judge saying that I thought it was a media circus. Neither of them wrote back."

"What was a circus about it?"

He smiled and looked off, as if he was arranging his thoughts. "The way I see it, there was so many of you reporters all over the place, writing things about me, that the jury got it into their head that I was guilty."

"But don't they ..." There was a word she was looking for. "You know, don't they keep the jury in hotel rooms, away from papers and TV?"

"Sequester," Boggs said. "You think that works? I was on Live at Five the day I was arrested and probably every other day up till the trial. You think there was one person in the area that didn't know about me? I doubt it very much."

Rune had told him she worked for Current Events but there was no visible reaction; either he didn't watch the program or he didn't know that it was on the Network, the employer of the man he'd supposedly killed. Or maybe he just wasn't impressed. He glanced at the Betacam sitting on the table beside Rune. "Had a film crew in the other day. Were shooting some kind of cop movie. Everybody was real excited about it. They used some of the boys as extras. I didn't get picked. They wanted people looked like convicts. I looked more like a clerk, I guess. Or ... What would you say I look like?"

"A man who got wrongly convicted."

Boggs smiled an interstate cloverleaf into his face. "You got some good lines. I like that. Yeah, that's a role I've been acting for a long time. Nobody's bought it yet."

"I want to get you released."

"Well, miss, seems like we've got a lot in common." He was definitely warming up to her.

"I talked to Fred Megler--"

Boggs nodded and his face showed disappointment but not anger or contempt. "If I had money to hire me a real lawyer, like those inside traders and, you know, those coke kingfishers you see on TV, I think things might've been different. Fred isn't a bad man. I just don't believe his heart was in my case. I reckon I'd say he should've listened to some of my advice. I've had a little experience with the law. Which I'm not proud of but the fact remains I've seen the inside of a courtroom several occasions. He should've listened to me."

Rune said, "He told me your story. But I knew you were innocent when I saw you."

"When would that've been?"

"On film. An interview."

The smile was now wistful. He kept evading her eyes, which bothered her. She believed this was shyness, not guile, but she didn't want shifty eyes on tape.

Boggs was saying, "I appreciate your opinion, miss, but if that's all you have to go on I'm still feeling like a six-ounce bluegill on a twenty-pound line."

"Look at me and tell me. Did you do it or not?"

His eyes were no longer evasive; they locked onto hers and answered as clearly as his words, "I did not kill Lance Hopper."

"That's enough for me."

And Boggs wasn't smiling when he said, "Trouble is, it don't seem to be enough for the people of the state of New York."

TWO HOURS LATER RANDY BOGGS GOT TO: "THAT'S WHEN I decided to hitch to New York. And that was the biggest mistake of my life."

"You were tired of Maine?"

"The lobster business didn't work out like I'd hoped. My partner--see, I'm not much for figures--he kept the books and all this cash coming in didn't no way equal the cash going out. I suspicioned he kept the numbers pretty obscured and when he sold the business he told me he was letting it go to a couple creditors but I think he got paid good money. Anyways, I had me maybe two, three hundred bucks was all and two new pair of jeans, some shirts. I figured I'd be leaving that part of the country before another winter come. Snow belongs in movies and in paper cones with syrup on it. So I begun thumbing south. Rides were scarce's hens' teeth but finally I got me some rides and ended up in Purchase, New York. If that isn't a name I don't know what is." He grinned. "Purchase ... It was raining and I had my thumb out so long it was looking like a bleached prune. Nobody stopped, except this one fellow. He pulled over in a--we call them--a Chinese tenement car. Big old Chevy twelve or so years old--you know, could ride a family of ten. He said, 'Hop in,' and I did. Biggest mistake of my life, miss. I'll tell you that."

"Jimmy."

"Right. But then I told him my name was Dave. I just had a feeling this wasn't a person I wanted to open up with a real lot."