The First Commandment

“So as a patriotic American, I should kill the article, right? Forget it. I don’t buy it.”

Vaile decided to give the man one more chance. “Mr. Sheppard, the people of Charleston needed closure on that bus hijacking and closure was provided.”

The reporter stifled a laugh. “So the U. S. government is now in the business of making crime victims and their families feel better? Tens of thousands of crimes go unsolved every year. What makes this one so special?”

“This was a particularly heinous crime against children-” began Vaile before he was interrupted.

“That had national security implications,” said Sheppard as his mind put it all together. “Jesus Christ, this wasn’t some lone nut job. It was a terrorist act.”

Chapter 82

“And you expect me to sit on this?” asked Sheppard.

“Yes,” replied Vaile. “Your story would be devastating to the public trust.”

This time, the reporter couldn’t stifle his laugh. “Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you dreamed this whole thing up.”

The DCI was quickly coming to the end of his patience. Before he could say anything, though, Sheppard asked, “Are you going to arrange an accident for me the way you did with Frank Aposhian and Sally Rutherford?”

“For the record, Mr. Sheppard, their deaths were an accident. The U. S. government is not in the business of murdering its own citizens.”

“Then I have nothing to worry about, do I?”

“That depends on if you’re going to cooperate or not.”

The reporter had received so many threats over the years that he didn’t spook that easily. “Really? And if I don’t?”

“Your story is tentatively entitled ‘Invasion of the Body Snatchers’-” began Vaile.

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Shut up and listen,” ordered the DCI. “You have it in a password-protected file. The password is Romero. Open it.”

Sheppard did as he was told. Inside, he saw that a subfolder named candy cane had been added. Instinctively, he clicked on it and was greeted by a page of images in thumbnail. He maximized one at random and his breathing stopped.

“You fucking assholes,” said the reporter as he realized what they were planning on doing to him. “It’ll never work.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” said Vaile. “Guilty or not, the stigma of pedophilia is almost impossible to scrub away.”

“Good thing I recorded this conversation, then,” crowed Sheppard.

Vaile laughed. “I suggest you try to play it back first before you stake your career and the rest of your life on it.”

His shockproof bullshit detector was telling him his caller wasn’t playing games. “You make me ashamed to be an American,” said Sheppard.

“Don’t you dare wrap yourself in the flag now,” chided the DCI. “You had your chance. We are at war and wars involve secrets. This is about doing the right thing for your country and you passed on it. In spite of that fact, I’m going to give you one more chance.”

“What’s to stop me from deleting them?” asked Sheppard, sounding determined to remain faithful to his journalistic integrity, but already losing his resolve.

“You can’t delete these images. Even if you could, there are more on both your laptop and desktop at home. We also have several convicted pedophiles who are willing to testify to numerous unsavory proclivities of yours. It’s a hole so deep you’ll never climb out of it.

“The newspaper will be the first to distance itself from you. Your body snatcher story will never see the light of day. You’ll be absolutely discredited. Next, your friends will disappear and even your family will start to fade away. And then there are all those children you so nobly mentored. You think anything you ever said or taught them will matter after they all figure out the only reason you were there was to get in their pants? Probably not, but that won’t be the end of your problems.

“A conviction on the child porn discovered on your computers and in your house will be a slam dunk. You’ll go to prison, and as you’re a crime reporter, I don’t need to tell you what they do to guys in your situation. Once the rumors get around that you’re a pedophile who pled to lesser charges of possession of child porn for a reduced sentence, if you’re not killed in the first couple of days, they’ll make your life such hell that you’ll wish you were dead.”

Sheppard had sat through the entire diatribe stunned. They had him. It was disgusting, but there was absolutely nothing he could do. His mind raced for answers, but he knew his only option was capitulation. Finally, he asked, “What do you want me to do?”

Vaile instructed him to gather any and all of the materials he’d assembled in putting together his story, including his notes, photographs, and tape recordings, and bring them in a small duffel bag to an abandoned warehouse just outside D. C.