The Broadcast Page 8

  Walter Lindsey and his team were flooded with requests from experienced police investigators who saw the potential, as well as the weaknesses that the new technology harbored. What started as a one-time, sensational airing had turned into a weekly program aired every Wednesday at 10:00 p.m. The program was given the simple and somewhat pretentious name, The Broadcast.

  The police detectives understood that the technology could not assist in solving every crime. For example, it performed much better in cases occurring in open spaces and during a clear day than in events that happening inside houses, at night, or during cloudy weather.

  Still, the system had shown its strength and capabilities also in solving incidents in which it was seemingly limited. When a crime occurred inside a building, it allowed a look at a nearby street, the yard, or the parking lot, and it was possible to draw vital information from observing cars and passersby.

  As time passed, public interest in the unusual sightings had subsided, and TXB started to lose some of the high ratings the first programs had. Nevertheless, the network had an exclusive hit show that generated great curiosity and attracted viewers of different ages. It was a goldmine of commercials that yielded a high income for the network and its affiliate stations. The advertisers didn’t pass on the chance to market their products; mainly cars, computers, cellular phones, television sets, and home electric appliances.

  Walter Lindsey and his skilled team had worked hard in filtering the many requests that had come from police investigators from all over the US, and also from Canada and Mexico.

  The structure of the show had gradually changed, when Lindsey, the clever producer, understood that in order to attract and magnetize viewers, he must develop the storylines behind the incidents. The viewers were now exposed to the personal background of the victims and their families, as well as the circumstances of the despised and cruel criminals.

  The regular host, Susan Riley, interviewed the families of the victims, who would usually agree to participate and reveal their loss and agony. They brought with them photographs and video clips documenting their loved ones in beautiful moments; they spoke about the tragedy that descended upon them following the horrible crime and usually expressed their hopes that the criminals would be severely punished and even executed.

  The families of the criminals were not deterred from participating in the program either. They usually talked about the tough living conditions that turned their relatives into what they had become, and how they were essentially good people who fell into the world of crime due to circumstances beyond their control. The families of the felons had generally expressed deep remorse and apologized for the actions of their loved ones.

  But despite the uniqueness of the program, the gradual descent in national viewership continued. The program had a tough time maintaining their lead in the ratings, competing against movies and TV series that aired at the same time slot on other channels.

  TXB had an advantage because it dealt with factual matters and sensational exposés, but the competing channels presented TV movies created by the best screenwriters.

  The competitors also helped flame the voices which grew stronger, that doubted the credibility of the films that TXB aired, claiming they were manipulated, and perhaps animated movies.

  ***

  Sitting comfortably in their rural house, near the small town of Corralitos in Central California, near the San Andreas Fault line, Jonathan and Sarah Lishinsky also used to watch the weekly broadcast.

  Each of them had their own favorite couch. Jonathan would sit in a wide TV recliner, with his feet on the footboard, while Sarah liked the old-styled armchair she’d purchased in a second-hand store, which she had stitched with new upholstery. The dogs would sprawl on the carpet at their feet, and didn’t express any interest in the TV screen.

  Sarah made an effort to always be home at the time of The Broadcast, even during those periods of time when she went on her night time escapades and was frequently absent from the house. She knew how important it was to Jonathan that she sat by his side while they watched the program that his brother produced.

  With time, Sarah started to lose interest, because despite TXB’s attempts to vary and diversify the shows by introducing different cases every week—one week an unsolved murder, and the next a sophisticated robbery—eventually the programs looked similar to one another. The network searched for the more attractive stories, more outrageous and juicy. They added dramatic and tragic perspectives. But still, Sarah thought that the program no longer looked very different than other investigative reporting shows.

  One evening, as they sat down to watch the show, the host presented a shocking murder incident that took place in the state of Ohio.

  Sarah didn’t feel like watching another gruesome and dreadful episode. She looked at her husband, who appeared riveted to the TV, and gently said, “I think it’s time that TXB uses the remarkable technology they possess to document other events and not only horrific crimes.”

  “They are exposing incidents,” Jonathan said, without taking his eyes off the television, “that up until now the police and the public did not have access to.” Jonathan sounded like he was trying to defend the show.

  “There are other events that they can expose,” she said.

  “Like what?” he wondered, “Do you mean news events? I could try to talk to my brother.”

  “Not news,” she said, “the news is already covered by plenty of cameras.”

  “So what are you getting at?” he asked, somewhat agitated.

  “Maybe history?” she pondered.

  “Are you serious?” He was puzzled. Jonathan didn’t think that his wife was especially knowledgeable in historic matters, but he remembered that she expressed great interest in the history of places they visited.

  “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “But I wonder if there is a way the technology could gradually go back in time and show occurrences from earlier periods, before humanity had cameras and movies.” Sarah explained her idea, and she was not at all sure whether her suggestion made sense.

  Jonathan raised his hand that was holding the remote control and muted the television. He seemed to be considering her words. “You’ve brought up an interesting idea,” he responded to Sarah, who had surprised him with her creative thought. “I’ll talk to Walter and suggest your idea. Let’s see what he thinks and whether it is technologically feasible. And if it is, would such broadcasts generate interest among the public? After all, it is a commercial network. Now as far as I know, almost all the cops in the country are watching our show; and who would watch the broadcasts that you are suggesting? History teachers?”

  “Jonathan,” she expressed herself softly, “you said our show.”

  “I meant Walter’s show,” he corrected himself.

  Chapter 16

  Stewart McPherson

  The investigative reporter examined the content of the fully stuffed package that was delivered to his office by a special courier. While spreading the ring binders and various papers on his large wooden desk, he had the impression that the shadows man, the private investigator nicknamed HH, had done a thorough job, as always. McPherson had received two binders: one dedicated to Walter Lindsey’s professional life, and one to his private life. In addition to the binders, the package contained several other pages that looked like they were added at the last moment. Most of the material was printed, but there were also quite a few hand-written comments. McPherson paid plenty of cash for the information, and he was pleased to see that HH was not sloppy in collecting the materials about the TXB producer.

  Now the diligent journalist had to dive into the minor details in order to build a big picture and assemble the puzzle. He learned that Walter Lindsey lived in Scarsdale, a quiet and prestigious suburb. He owned a nice, but not ostentatious, house. He was happily married to Monica, a senior accountant. The couple had two daughters: the older one, Melanie, was studying law at Stanford University in California, and the
young one, Carolyn, was a high school student.

  When Lindsey was four years old, his parents had been killed in a fatal car accident. He was not in the car at the time of the accident, while his little brother, who sat in the backseat, had survived the crash and come out of it unharmed. The brother, Jonathan, lived in California. There was an apparent feud between them, and they never saw each other. His father was Jewish, and his original family name was Lishinsky, but Walter had changed it because he worried that a Jewish sounding name could hurt his chances of advancing in the media world.

  The successful producer had three good friends, with whom he liked to play music in their rock’n roll band. Once in a while, he would meet with one or more of them for lunch either in a good restaurant or in a small park located behind the TXB building. On weekends, the whole group would meet, usually at Walter’s house, and they would play together or watch football if it was the playoffs season.

  The information the journalist received was very thorough and included details of the three friends, their occupations, and even the instrument that each played in the band.

  Julian, a talented director who worked at TXB, played rhythm guitar and was the lead singer of the band. Alex, a high tech expert, specializing in animation, played drums and percussion. Eric was a literature and history professor; he played bass guitar and sang backup vocals. Walter was the band’s keyboard player, and he also contributed with backup vocals.

  On rare occasions the band played at family events, but usually they found it sufficient to play for their own enjoyment, and they preferred to keep their music as a hobby.

  How does HH get this detailed information? Stewart McPherson wondered. He was pleased to see that he already recognized the pattern of the deception. The journalist got up from his desk and went to the coffee maker, immersed in thought. It occurred to him that the members of the band were not content with solely making music and they must have concocted the scheme, perhaps as a sophisticated hoax.

  With the fresh data in his hands, McPherson tried to piece together a basic theory of the system. He assumed that they performed a thorough research of the documented incidents, probably conducted by the history professor. The films themselves, it was safe to assume, were covered by the film director and the animation man. McPherson presumed the reason for the mediocre quality of the clips stemmed from the intent to prevent viewers from noticing that they were watching manipulated and animated films. It was possible that the police officers who participated in the broadcasts, collaborated with the ploy, and if so, he would have to bring proof of some direct connection between the cops and the group. McPherson knew this was probably a partial picture, but he embraced it as a starting point that was likely to change once more details were factored in.

  At the same time that McPherson approached HH in order to gather information about Walter Lindsey, the diligent journalist contacted a young hacker that he employed on occasion. The hacker’s mission was to break into the computers of TXB’s human resources department, and extract the names of all the employees, their positions, wages, telephone numbers, and the duration they were with the company.

  With the detailed list in his hands, McPherson looked for someone who could be his “eyes” in the offices of the network— someone who would be able to get close to Lindsey and his colluders and expose the source of the films. It wasn’t going to be simple. The man McPherson looked for had to be skilled and capable, but not completely committed to his workplace—perhaps a disgruntled employee who was frustrated with his salary or dissatisfied with his position and by not getting a promotion. Such a person might be interested in taking revenge on his employer and making money on the side.

  Or maybe someone who had only been at TXB for a short time, only making his first steps in the world of journalism. Actually, McPherson thought to himself, I am looking for a person who would be willing to betray a media corporation in order to clean the system of journalistic dishonesty and lack of integrity.

  Three potential candidates caught McPherson’s attention, and he penciled them into his notebook. One of them was a veteran reporter, not particularly known and not very noticeable, who had been with the network for many years. McPherson had the impression that the man did not gain an adequate promotion, and his salary was significantly lower than what could be expected for a man of his seniority.

  There was a young female researcher, who worked part-time at the news department so she could finance her tuition at a prestigious performing arts school. The third candidate was also a beginning researcher, who had a degree in journalism from New York University. After deliberating on his three prospective candidates, McPherson chose the young researcher named Michael Evans. McPherson hoped that due to his young age, the man might still be holding on to idealistic values of pure journalism, which served the public and didn’t deceive people for ratings and money. McPherson saw that Michael received an entry-level salary, which was quite low, and he had been working at TXB for just a few months as a researcher for a news magazine show called Around the Clock. McPherson estimated that the young man was not yet mentally and professionally committed to the network, which could be a temporary job for him.

  In an online search of the social network ‘Attendees,’ McPherson had found several photos of Michael, and he got the impression that Michael was a handsome young man. He also discovered that Michael grew up in San Diego, California. Michael didn’t provide many details of himself beyond the very minimum, and most of the information on his page was intended for friends only. But the little he found was enough for the investigative journalist, and he especially liked that Michael was a musician and a guitar player.

  Chapter 17

  Michael

  The phone rang. Michael glanced at the screen and saw an unidentified number. He answered the call, hoping that it didn’t come from a telemarketer or a pollster.

  “Am I talking with Mr. Michael Evans?” asked the voice of a man.

  “Who wants to know?” Michael was interested.

  “My name is Stewart McPherson,” the man introduced himself, “Could I have a few minutes of your time?”

  “Stewart McPherson, the famous journalist?” Michael was surprised.

  “It’s me,” McPherson confirmed. “And I would like to meet with you whenever you’d find it convenient.”

  “It would be an honor for me,” Michael said. “What is it about?”

  “I will tell you when we meet,” McPherson answered. “And in the meantime, I’m asking that you won’t tell anyone about our conversation.”

  “All right,” Michael promised. “I have a free hour around noon.”

  McPherson gave Michael the address of his office, which was located about a ten-minute drive from the TXB center.

  At noon, Michael hurried to walk out of the building, stepped toward the street, and waved to a yellow cab. He gave the driver the address and sat in the backseat. He was very curious as he thought of the reasons that could have brought the unusual plea from the esteemed journalist. Michael was familiar with McPherson’s work. He appreciated the man and saw him as a courageous investigative reporter, righteous and worthy of being a role model.

  The cab dropped him in front of a large office building, which looked gray and lacking distinct identity. Michael walked into the entrance and checked the signboard of the residents. The building housed lawyers and architect’s offices, as well as some firms that Michael didn’t recognize. On the row designated to third-floor residents, Michael identified among the crowded labels a modest sign saying “McPherson Journalism”. He took the elevator to the third floor and had no difficulty in finding the door with an identical sign to the one in the lobby. Michael rang the bell while still wondering why he was summoned to the unexpected meeting.

  The man who opened the door looked familiar from pictures that Michael had seen in newspapers and from the journalist’s appearances on TV panels. McPherson was a tall and wide-shouldered man; he had a mane of dense, gra
y hair over a wrinkled forehead, and he looked like he was in his late fifties. He examined Michael with a penetrating look, and yet, his demeanor was friendly and informal. Michael had the impression that the journalist was a reliable and trustworthy person. McPherson extended his hand and shook Michael’s firmly.

  “Come in, please,” McPherson said, and Michael followed him and sat on the other side of the large and heavy-looking desk. He didn’t know why, but he was engulfed by a feeling that this was a distinct moment in his life. Could it be a turning point?

  “Would you like anything to drink?” McPherson asked.

  “No thanks,” Michael answered. The room he entered into appeared old; in the corners, the paint was slightly peeling, and the windows had lost some of their transparency. Still, the office looked clean and well-organized. On the desk, to the left side of McPherson there was a computer screen, and in front of him, a few papers were scattered. On the metal bookshelves that were fastened to the walls all around, there were many ring binders. Next to the computer screen, Michael also noticed a photo of a young woman smiling, holding a small, serious child. He wondered if they were his wife and son.

  “What is this about?” Michael asked.

  “I need your help in investigating a case in which the media is deceiving the public,” McPherson opened, looking into Michael’s eyes.

  “The truth is,” Michael said, “I already have a job, and unfortunately I don’t have time for more work.”

  “Your work is the reason I contacted you,” the journalist clarified, “I’m investigating an act of deception that is taking place at TXB.”