Read The Morning Show Murders (1) for Free Online Page B

for fifteen mil."
    "You gave me confidence."
    "Didn't you tell me it wasn't about money?" I said.
    "Well, it wasn't when
we
talked. But then Gretchen seemed really set on keepin' me on
Wake Up!
She asked me what it would take for me to stick aroun' for another three years, and I kinda flashed on Katie Couric gettin' fifteen million from CBS and thought, heck, she's only on for a half-hour every evenin'."
    "Gretchen didn't even blink?" I asked.
    "Oh, she went through the usual. 'There's not enough in the budget.' 'These are times of economic uncertainty.' Bla-bla-bla. That's when my team started remindin' Gretchen of my TVQ and threatenin' her with the possibility of my poppin' up opposite
WUA!
on
The Early Show
or
Good Morning America
. Then they played with the numbers a little. The thing that finally turned the trick was my agreein' to read ad copy."
    Way back when John Chancellor anchored the
Today
show, he established a rule that anchors remain apart from any form of commercial activity. He thought it undercut their effectiveness as objective observers of daily events. Other network news executives agreed, apparently, because it became a sort of industry standard. But that razor-thin line, like the one separating reportage from opinion, has worn away.
    "So now you're making twice as much as Charlie Gibson," I said.
    Gin beamed. "And three times as much as macho-man Lance. And you know what, Billy? With the money comes respect."
    "Who'd have thought?" I said.
    "I definitely would not be doing the interview with Carl Kelstoe this morning if I weren't the fifteen-million-dollar woman. And I owe it all to you." She gave me a brief hug and literally danced across the floor to get ready for the start of the show.
    There seemed to be no way of convincing her that I'd had little to do with her good fortune. It would have served no purpose for me to mention that she'd unknowingly put my career in jeopardy. She was floating on air, and I didn't want her to feel any guilt if Rudy did decide to cook my goose.
    I was surprised that he wasn't on the set, spreading his usual malcontent. When I mentioned it to Kiki, she said, "I sensed there was a lightness to the day. Was there something you wanted from him?"
    "Not in this lifetime," I said, and left my dressing room to check the progress of the barbecued ribs I'd be playing with near the end of the hour.
    Gin's interview with Carl Kelstoe, the president of Touchstone International, considered by some to be the world's largest security company, took place shortly after the news segment that kicked off the second hour of the show.
    Touchstone mercenaries working for this country had been accused of starting a riot eleven months ago in Afghanistan's Helmand Province that resulted in the deaths of seven NATO soldiers and five Afghan soldiers, with nineteen pedestrians left wounded. Kelstoe was making the rounds on the news shows, doing public-relations damage control, before heading to D.C. to appear before a congressional committee studying the cause of the riot.
    Watching the interview from the control booth, I was fascinated by the merc master. He must have been six-four, with a crew-cut king-size head atop a thick neck and a body that resembled Superman's, clothed in a gray gabardine suit that had been perfectly tailored to fit his v-shaped physique. According to stereotype, a guy that big should have been slow and maybe even a little mentally deficient. But Kelstoe was agile, of both body and mind.
    As Camera 2 zoomed in for a close-up, the monitor picked up eyes so light brown they were almost golden. Kelstoe focused them on Gin as if she was the center of his universe.
    Looking at his rugged mug, I guessed that most men would want to be his friend and most women would at least think about being hislover. Thanks to my misspent youth, I had a different take. I pegged him right off as a sociopath, the kind Shakespeare said "would smile, and smile, and be a villain."
    In his seemingly