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from Bill Kendall’s life. Eliza watched and identified, where appropriate, what the viewers at home were watching. She recounted the biography information. Just as important, she paused instinctively and let the video carry itself at the correct times.
    Eliza was back on camera. She felt her eyes fill and her usually direct gaze into the camera was diverted as she stared off toward the back of the studio and tried to collect her thoughts. She stumbled again as she began to ad-lib.
    “We here at KEY News are stunned. Bill Kendall was a valued colleague, a beloved friend and a fine and generous human being. It’s impossible at this point even to begin to imagine life around here without him.” Her voice trailed off and she swallowed hard. Eliza took a deep breath attempting frantically to compose herself. The image of Bill smiling suddenly filled her head. She tried to sit up taller in her chair, but her body felt leaden.
    “Police have been called to the scene. KEY News will air a special report on Bill Kendall tonight at eleven-thirty eastern, ten-thirty central, following your local news. I’m Eliza Blake. For all of us at KEY News , good night.”
    There were tears in Eliza’s eyes and on her face as the director faded to black.

Chapter 9
    In Washington, Pete Carlson watched excitedly as Eliza Blake signed off.
    “Get a driver to take me to National. Now,” he barked to the desk assistant stationed outside his office door.
    He marveled at how quickly things could change in his life. A half hour ago, he was smoldering with anger, jealous that Eliza Blake was filling in for Bill Kendall when it should have been him substituting in the anchor chair.
    Now he, Pete Carlson, was the next anchorman of the KEY Evening Headlines .
    He pulled his cellular phone from his briefcase, not wanting to use an office line, yet knowing that the portable phone could be easily tapped. He’d be careful with his wording.
    “It’s finally happened. I’m getting the big job. But remember, I don’t want to be in New York forever, Washington is my home.”
    “Don’t worry. It’ll be taken care of,” came the grunted response.
    When the earnest young desk assistant went in to tell Pete Carlson that the driver was ready to take the anchorman to the airport, he swore he heard Carlson humming.

Chapter 10
    The ailing space shuttle and the Prince of Wales did not make the West Coast update of the Evening Headlines . Instead, Larry “Mack” McBride reported live from outside Bill Kendall’s East Eighty-eighth Street townhouse on the death of the anchorman. Details were sketchy.
    After taping the update, Eliza, her head pounding, walked into the Fishbowl. Jean White, the treasured assistant whom Kendall had affectionately called “Coach,” was crying. Jean had taken the call from Kendall’s housekeeper.
    “I just can’t believe it,” she sobbed, red-eyed. “And you know what really bothers me? When I took the call, my ridiculous KEY loyalty kicked in. I didn’t want any of the other nets to have the story before we did. I told Millie not to call the police until she talked to Louise.” Jean rubbed a balled-up tissue across her eyes. “Can you believe that I’d be thinking of being competitive at a time like this? I must be really sick.”
    The others in the room looked at her sadly with weak smiles of recognition. They each knew that the same thoughts most likely would have gone through their own minds. It was second nature to them. How embarrassing it would be if another network scooped KEY News on reporting the death of their own anchorman! How it would have defiled Bill’s dignity and memory to have another network report his death before his beloved KEY!
    Eliza took a small plastic bottle from her shoulder bag and emptied a green Fiorinal capsule into her palm. Pouring a glass of water from the pitcher on Range’s desk, she reflected for a moment on the nature and competitiveness of television news. She doubted that