Read The Second Time Around for Free Online Page A

machine from the U.S. Attorney’s Office. Jason Knowles, an investigator, urgently needed to talk to me. He left his number and I returned the call.
    I spent the next forty minutes wondering what information I might have that would be useful for an investigator from the attorney general’s office to have immediately. Then, when the buzzer from the vestibule sounded, I picked up the intercom phone, confirmed it was Mr. Knowles, warned him to take the staircase, and released the lock.
    A few minutes later he was at my door, a silverhaired man with a manner that was both courteous and direct. I invited him in and he sat on the couch. I chose the straight-backed chair opposite the couch and waited for him to speak.
    He thanked me for seeing him on such short notice,then got down to business: “Ms. DeCarlo, you were at the Gen-stone stockholders’ meeting on Monday.”
    It was a statement, not a question. I nodded.
    â€œWe understand that many people who attended that meeting expressed strong resentment toward management and that one man in particular was enraged by the statement made by Lynn Spencer.”
    â€œThat’s true.” I was sure the next verification would be that I was Lynn’s stepsister. I was wrong.
    â€œWe understand that you were in the end seat of a row reserved for media and that you were next to the man who shouted at Mrs. Spencer.”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œWe also understand that you spoke to a number of disgruntled stockholders after the meeting and took down their names.”
    â€œYes, I did.”
    â€œBy any chance did the man who talked about losing his house because of investing in Gen-stone talk to you?”
    â€œNo, he did not.”
    â€œDo you have the names of the stockholders who talked to you?”
    â€œYes, I do.” I felt that Jason Knowles was waiting for an explanation. “As you may or may not know, I write a financial advice column that is directed to the unsophisticated consumer or investor. I also do occasional freelance articles for magazines. At that meeting it occurred to me that I might want to do an in-depth article illustrating the way the collapse of Gen-stone has destroyed the future of so many little investors.”
    â€œI do know that, and that’s why I’m here. We’d like to have the names of the people who spoke to you.”
    I looked at him. It appeared to be a reasonable request, but I guess I had every journalist’s instant reaction about being asked to reveal sources.
    It was as though Jason Knowles could read my mind. “Ms. DeCarlo, I’m sure you can understand why I’m making that request. Your sister, Lynn Spencer—”
    I interrupted him: “Stepsister.”
    He nodded. “Stepsister. Your stepsister could have been killed when her home burned down the other night. We have no idea at this point whether the person who set the fire knew she was in the house. But it also seems reasonable that one of those angry—and even financially desperate—stockholders might have set it.”
    â€œYou do realize that there are hundreds of other people, both stockholders and employees, who might have been responsible for setting the fire?” I pointed out.
    â€œWe are aware of that. By any chance did you get the name of the man who had the outburst?”
    â€œNo.” I thought of how that poor guy had gone from anger to hopeless tears. “He didn’t set the fire. I’m sure of it.”
    Jason Knowles’s eyebrows raised. “You’re sure he didn’t set it. Why?”
    I realized how stupid it would be to say, “I just know he didn’t.” Instead I said, “That man was desperate, but in a different way. He’s heartbroken with worry. Hesaid his daughter is dying and he’s going to lose his home.”
    It was obvious that Jason Knowles was disappointed when I couldn’t identify the man who was so upset