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CHAPTER 10

CINDY PRESSED HER desk phone hard to her ear and waited impatiently as it rang and rang. Where was Richie? Why wasn’t he picking up? Did he know about Jacobi?

Finally, her husband answered, “Conklin.”

“Hey,” she said. “It’s me. I just read—”

“Cin, I’m working. Can I call you later?”

“This is important. And it’ll just take a second.”

“I’m timing you.”

“Okay, so a New York tabloid, the City News Flash, carried an anonymous letter about a murder in Golden Gate Park. Said the victim is Warren Jacobi. Our Jacobi. The story was posted online this morning.”

Cindy hoped that Richie would either deny the so-called news of Jacobi’s death or say, I’ll get back to you. She heard unintelligible muffled voices in the background over Rich’s phone. Wherever he was, he wasn’t alone.

“Rich? Did you hear me?” she pressed. She had a feeling Rich was going to be a dead end. That’s how cops, even those married to crime reporters, behaved. Admittedly a good thing, even if not good for her.

“I’m going to have to make some sketchy promises,” Cindy muttered to herself.

“Cin, put your mouth next to the little holes.”

Cindy adjusted the phone and said, “Sorry, can you hear me now? Rich, I have to ask you something—”

“About Jacobi,” he said. “Lindsay and I are working on it. It’s horrible. And now this.”

So it was true. But what was “now this” about? “This what?”

“I’ll call you later. Okay?”

“I just want to say one more thing.”

“I’m listening. Make it quick.”

“Whoever wrote this letter and sent it to the City News Flash . In New York! And used Jacobi’s name! Whoever wrote the letter quoted the ‘I said. You dead’ written inside the cover of a matchbook and used Jacobi’s name. That information could have only come from the killer or a leak—”

“A leak?” Conklin barked. “What are you saying?”

“This anonymous letter in the Flash was dated this morning at 9:15 a.m., 6:15 our time . That’s inside news that could have been sent by the—”

Rich raised his voice and said to Cindy, “What are you saying?” Then, “Oh, God. I hear you. I’ll call Brady.”

“It’s going to blow up, Rich. I’ve already been called by the Examiner looking for a quote. It’ll be twenty-four-hour news starting now … If Brady has contacts in New York—”

“I’ll move as fast as possible, Cindy. Brady’s in a meeting with Clapper. You talk to Tyler,” he said, meaning Cindy’s boss, Henry Tyler, the Chronicle ’s publisher. “We need some time before this story breaks.”

“Richie. It’s already out,” Cindy said loudly to the dead phone line. Damn it . She clicked off the phone, then grabbed the printout of the letter in this morning’s City News Flash and ran for Tyler’s office.