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Let s have it.
He graduated from Harvard. Played tackle and right end and gave transfusions to the football team.
Once performed a cranial trephination on the forty-yard line. Transplanted a pig bladder into the fullback
and saved his life. Now the wife has to blow fullback s head up every morning, but she doesn t mind.
She s Catholic. She was Episcopalian before the operation. Gray takes credit for that, too. What else do
you want to know?
Maybe I ll come back when Bing sobers up, Danny said. He got up from the couch.
You going to the ball game tonight?
Tonight?
Yeah. This guy Willkinson, who owns that Negro team in KC, brought em up here to play the Millers
tonight. He s got these portable lights that he carries around in a couple of trucks. They set up poles with
floodlamps on em and light a whole field bright as day. They re going to stay in town a while, til the
league figures out what it s going to do about Toledo and Louisville and the Blues, too. I guess things
ain t so good down in Kansas City these days. Come up and sit in the press box with me?
You won t be at any game. You ll be sleeping it off.
Watch me, Bing said. I sleep it off before I start.
I ll tell the boys you re out, Danny said.
You do that, Connie. I ll see you tonight.
Danny went back to his desk. Lying there was his copy with the word NO!!! scrawled across it in blue
pencil.
Why, that no good son of a bitch! he said, looking around for Jackie, and finding him over by the water
cooler.
Jackie, come here.
The copy boy came over.
What s the big idea?
Burns took one look and blue-penciled it, the copy boy said, a little sheepishly.
Did he read it?
Nobody reads that fast, Jackie said.
Danny grabbed the copy, went up the mezzanine stairs and straight into Burns s office.
What s this no, Walter?
Just what it says, Burns said, looking up over the top of his reading glasses.
You promised you d give me some play.
I said I d think about it.
No, you said if there was one more murder. And now there s been one.
Well, it came too damn quick. And what the hell do you mean barging into my office?
Walter, now we ve got a witness who says our killer s a beautiful woman with platinum-blonde hair,
possibly assisted by a tall man in a long coat.
That wasn t in your copy.
Dooley Willson wanted that part off the record. I ll call him and see if he ll let me put it in.
The answer s still no.
Why?!
You want to know why? I ll tell you! County Hospital reported thirteen new cases of acute Hun on
Sunday. Eight so far today. It s starting up again, and I refuse to let this newspaper contribute to the
panic. If we re going to get it again, by God, we ll take it and keep order at the same time. No riots. No
lynchings!
This is murder, Walter. It s got nothing to do with people getting sick.
Goddamn it, Constantine, it s blood! People have had it up to here with blood. They don t want to see
it, they don t want to hear about it, and they certainly don t want to be reading about it over supper!
You said you want a normal life around here. If things were normal this would be all over the front
page.
If things were normal you d be chasing pictures. You wouldn t be up here pressuring me about stories
I ve no intention of printing.
It s not right, Walter.
Burns took off his glasses. Don t you come up here and tell me what s right. I ve got thirty men who
depend on this newspaper for a living. If nobody reads it, they don t work, and that includes you. Just
because I m shorthanded does not mean you re indispensable. I got a call about you this afternoon from
Crowley. He tells me you were rude and pushy at that luncheon today. He wants to know what I m
going to do about it!
What d you tell him?
I told him you re a good man. But you ve got to lay off, see? I can t afford to lose you. Forget about
this vampire business! A lot of these sick killers only live for the ink they get, anyway. Maybe he ll quit if
he doesn t get any publicity.
She hasn t had any.
Find a cat burglar, for Christ s sake. People always admire a cat burglar.
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