“My sentiments exactly, Daily. That was the first and only time she displayed any honest emotion. She sounded desperate. What do you think she meant?”
“How the hell should I know? It could mean, Help me get my husband reelected. Or, Help me generate public awareness of SIDS. Or, Help me recover from my grief. It could mean anything or nothing.”
“If it’s nothing, it’s nothing,” Barrie said. “But if it’s something, the implications are explosive.”
He shook his head. “I still don’t buy it. Why would she kill her baby after trying so hard to have one?”
“I thought we’d established that. Munchausen syndrome.”
“She doesn’t fit the profile,” he argued. “Women afflicted with the disorder are usually looking for sympathy and attention. Vanessa Merritt has outdistanced Princess Di in terms of press. She gets more attention than any other woman in the world.”
“But does she get it from the one who really counts?”
“The President? You think she’s a neglected wife, and she did this to rattle his cage?”
“It’s a possibil
ity.”
“A slim one.”
“But possible,” Barrie stressed. “Look at the public sympathy Jackie Kennedy received when little Patrick died. She became an icon.”
“For many more reasons than losing a newborn.”
“But that tragedy contributed to the legend she became. Maybe this First Lady wants to create a similar aura for herself.”
“Next theory,” Daily said with a dismissive gesture.
“HIV. What if one of them is carrying the virus? The child could test positive. Mrs. Merritt couldn’t risk the humiliation of the world finding out about her or her husband’s sexual history.”
“Another very slim possibility,” Daily said. “If either of them was HIV positive, it would have come out before now—say, when she got pregnant. The President gets routine physical checkups. A secret like that wouldn’t remain a secret for very long.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She thought about it for another moment. “Maybe we’re overlooking the obvious. What if her motive was plain ol’ everyday spite? She impresses me as a woman accustomed to getting her way, a woman who wouldn’t tolerate rejection.”
“What’s your point?”
“She killed their son to punish the President for his affairs.”
“Rumored affairs.”
“Come on, Daily.” Barrie groaned. “Everybody knows he’s a womanizer. He just hasn’t been caught with a naked lady in bed with him, yet.”
“And until he is, and the 60 Minutes crew is there to tape it, and Mike Wallace gets his confession on video, his escapades remain a rumor.”
“Mrs. Merritt must know.”
“Of course she knows. But she’ll smile and pretend that she doesn’t, just like every wife of every horny public official has done throughout the history of elected office.”
“I still think the woman-scorned motivation is a damn strong one.”
Daily tugged thoughtfully on his lower lip. “Barrie, this story has won you industry attention. Positive attention this time.”
“My moment in the limelight has nothing to do with this.”
“You sure? This series was so good, it’s temporarily overshadowed the Justice Green debacle and proved your critics wrong. You deserve the accolades, but beware of getting greedy. Are you sure that you’re not exploiting your sudden attention by inventing another story? Could you be using all this hype as a ticket out of professional purgatory?”
She was about to answer a firm and unarguable no, but she paused to reexamine her motives. Was she shaping the facts to suit her own purposes? Was she letting ambition color her objectivity? Worse, was she falling back into her habit of jumping to the wrong conclusion in order to create a much more dramatic story?