Halfway to the Truth (3 page)

Wednesday was a long time in coming for Reese, especially as she took every step to avoid Chief Daniels after the incident at the Dollar General. She knew she wasn’t his favorite person right now, but hoped he’d get over it by the time she got back from Savannah.

It was almost 8:00
A.M.
by her watch and she expected the drive there to take about three hours’ time. That would give her an hour to locate the spot where she was to meet Doug Williams. It hadn’t dawned on her until now though, that meeting at such a peculiar location for a job interview, was quite strange. Normally, she might be concerned about her safety but Shelley knew where they were meeting, so Reese felt secure to go there. Still…

She finished loading her bags into the trunk and started out.

When she reached the edge of New Harmony’s city limit, she saw the city’s police car parked under some trees. It was in a clearing about fifty feet off the road. She tensed, automatically looked at her speedometer, and breathed easier seeing she was under the speed limit. Being afraid to look in the direction of the cruiser for fear of seeing Chief Daniels, she kept her eyes straight ahead, as though she hadn’t noticed the squad car. She didn’t know if it was the Chief himself, or one of the other two police officers that worked for the department. At that moment she didn’t care to know.

Savannah greeted her with open arms. It was the time of year when everything was green and blossoming. It was the kind of city that put its arm around you and says “let me show you my beauty, my people”.

Reese suddenly wondered why she hadn’t visited there during the year and a half she worked in New Harmony.
Hell
, she thought,
I’m a southern girl, so why haven’t I ever considered coming here before? I know Atlanta and the corridor running to Florida pretty well, but just never gave a thought to this part of the state.

The sign for the Talmadge Memorial Bridge, that would carry her over the Savannah River, came into view. She checked her watch; it showed she was early for her interview. Not wanting to appear too anxious and show up at the interview location before the editor, she changed her route. Reese made the decision to take a quick tour through the historical district and directed her car in that direction mindful of Shelley’s advice about being punctual.

She first travelled along West Bay Street where most of the larger hotels were located. Then, she turned onto the streets of the Northern Historic District known as ‘The Square’ where local residents still lived in homes that dated back to the early 1800’s.

Driving along the narrow streets, she marveled at the architecture and character of each home. Even though some were in need of repair, you could feel their former glory. They all stood like proper ladies of the south, decked out in their finest attire hoping to be noticed by a suitor. The magnificent live oak trees, draped with Spanish moss, would have provided the perfect barrier between the homes and the ghosts of Oglethorpe’s Light Infantry civil war soldiers who once marched down the cobblestone streets.

Time passed quickly. Although it was hard for her to leave the splendor of the District, something more important waited for her across the river. She needed to get her thoughts back to the present and to that interview. Coming full circle through the District, she again located the street that would take her to the bridge.

As she crossed over the water, she could see the Savannah shipyards off in the distance to her left. To her right, she saw a supertanker vessel being guided downstream by tugboats toward Tybee Island and the ocean just beyond.

Following Shelley’s instructions, she turned right on the first road after crossing the bridge and travelled about a mile. The road was a winding, two-lane blacktop in each direction that guided her toward two large buildings ahead.

When she arrived, she saw a man sitting on the hood of a 1965 candy-apple red Mustang that was in pristine condition. She parked behind the Mustang being careful to leave sufficient room so as not to inadvertently roll into it.

Exiting her vehicle, she noticed her presence was not immediately acknowledged by the man as she approached. Instead, he appeared to be in a trance-like state staring at a big ship negotiating the river in front of them. She suddenly was wondering if this was a good idea.

He spoke to her without taking his eyes off the ship that was now passing by. “Do you know the circulation of the
Savannah Daily
?” he asked.

Startled by his question, she took up a position standing next to him and looked out toward the river. She spoke as she tried to figure out what was fascinating him so much. “I believe you have a daily number of around 45,000 and maybe 58,000 on Sunday’s.” Shading her eyes from the noon sun she added, “Taking into consideration those papers get passed around, you probably have twice that number reading them.”

He turned to meet her and extended out his hand. “My name is Doug Williams. I see you’ve done your homework. I like that,” he said. “You were a little low on your numbers but close enough. And, you were right on time. I like that too.”

She reached to meet his invitation. “I’m Reese Summers, glad to finally meet you Mr. Williams. I’m ready for that interview with you.”

“You just had it young lady.” Returning his attention back to the waterfront, he continued, “I’d like to offer you a position on our newspaper. I need another investigative reporter. You interested?”

Reese cocked her head to one side thinking,
what’s going on here
? She was in Savannah, along a river, talking to a fifty-something year old guy sitting on a red Mustang and she was puzzled by his question. He just offered her a job which, under normal circumstances, she would have killed to get and she didn’t know how to answer him. She blurted out the only thing she could think of, “How much does the position pay?” After which she thought, that was reall
y dumb
Reese.

“To the point. I like that too,” he said. “You’ll get forty-thousand to start. Show me you’re worth it and we’ll talk a raise.”

He jumped off the hood of the car looking her dead in the eyes. “You in or out?”

“I’ll give you an answer when you tell me what is so interesting out there,” she asked pointing to the riverfront.

“You like boats Reese?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been on anything bigger than a rowboat. What kind of boat are you referring to?”

“The kind you see out there right now, a super cargo ship. See those containers stacked on top?”

“Yes.”

“Ever wonder what’s inside them?  Ever wonder were all that stuff goes?”

“Never gave it a thought,” she said.

“Do you think that’s an assignment you could handle? Being near big ships? Being on the waterfront around a bunch of men who’d like nothing better than to show you what a man they are? You’re a pretty attractive woman. That could work for you or against you. Can you handle being in that situation?”

Reese hesitated for a few moments questioning herself whether she
was
up to such a task. She then thought about all the female reporters she saw on the
Nightly News
who reported from countries like, Syria, Iraq, and other dangerous third-world countries. They regularly reported stories that were hard hitting and unpleasant, oftentimes even under extreme circumstances. She then knew what her only answer could be. “Yes, I’m in!” she voiced.

“Good, that’s what I was hoping you would say,” he said, turning and pointing back to the ship. “You see the name on the bow of that one?”

“Looks like Athenos,” she said.

“And underneath that?”

“Drakos Maritime Shipping Company.”

“That’s what so fascinates me Miss Summers. Drakos Shipping. And you’re going to find out
why
I’m so fascinated with it. Follow me back to the news building. I know you want to give two weeks’ notice to your current editor, but we can at least get your paperwork started.

“I’m curious,” she said, pausing to think about her choice of words. “If this is such a big deal to you, why hasn’t someone already done the story?”

“Because all my
good
reporters are too well known around here. I needed a fresh face. Someone that won’t be noticed for a while. You know, fly under the radar so to speak. The fact that you also have a pretty face will, in my opinion, get you more answers from those longshoremen than a man’s face would. I hope that doesn’t sound sexist to you, but it’s a fact. Now let’s go, we have work to do.

He got into his vehicle and she got into hers and she followed the Mustang back across the bridge into Savannah. It was soon to become her new home.

The news office was large. Nothing like what she was used to and more than she expected to see. She followed Doug past rows of gray-colored cubicles which collectively emitted the sound much like the hum of a beehive. She was, quite frankly, awestruck by the size of the newspaper’s employee pool and suddenly felt inadequate to become part of their operation.

Sensing her misgivings, Doug put a hand on her shoulder as they reached his office and tried to ward off her doubt. “Looks bigger than it really is,” he said. “The newsroom is the heart of the operation, but don’t let it intimidate you. Every one of those reporters out there went through the same thing you are feeling right now. It’s only natural for you to feel you lack the confidence to fit in, but I assure you, you wouldn’t be here if that were the case.”

He opened the door to his office, guided her inside, and then closed the door as she took a seat across from his desk.

Reese immediately noticed that the hum of the activity outside became dulled by the insulated half walls and panes of glass that made up Doug’s office. She observed that his news empire was run from a ten by twelve foot space cluttered with a series of low bookshelves packed to their capacity, five scattered chairs, his desk, and behind it a wall full of awards and certificates. Becoming slightly more at ease, she put her purse and briefcase on the floor next to her.

“Well, what are your thoughts,” he asked seating himself in a well-worn brown-leather chair.

“Being the boss of this operation, I imagined you with a bigger, plusher office. This,” she said, looking around, “reminds me of a fish bowl.”

He laughed. “This fishbowl, as you put it, serves a purpose. To those people out there, it’s a symbol of my authority. But at the same time, they can see me working as hard as they do and know that I got their backs. I’m not better than them Miss Summers, but they know I have more experience than them and paid my dues to sit here.”

A knock at the door caused both of them to look through the glass. A woman in her late forties was requesting to come inside.

“And the other purpose that glass serves,” he continued, waving the woman in, “is for me to be able to see who’s coming and going.”

“Sorry to bother you Doug, but do you still want to run the piece about that funeral home director?”

The woman was slender. Her freshly-colored auburn hair was trimmed to shoulder length. She wore a knee-high, short-sleeved, scooped-neck dress that had large white flowers printed over a deep yellow base. She looked like she was getting ready to go on-camera at
CNN
and deliver the next breaking news story.

“Hell yes!” Doug said. “He’s taking people’s good money to care for their loved ones and then steals the jewelry off the corpses before laying them to rest. I’d call that newsworthy.”

Changing topics he introduced his visitor. “Shelley, meet Reese Summers. Reese this is Shelley. She’s my right hand around here, but she’ll try and convince you she’s the one in charge. Don’t be fooled though.”

“Glad to meet you Reese,” she said, putting out her hand. “You’re even prettier than my sister described. I don’t know if I want to compete with another pretty face around here.”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Reese responded shaking her hand, “you look like you could model on the runway.”

“Thank you dear, but the airport doesn’t allow people to just wander out onto their landing field. But I appreciate the complement just the same.”

“Okay you two,” Doug interrupted, “can we get back to business at hand? Take a seat Shelley, I was just about to inform Reese of her first assignment when she comes back here in a couple of weeks.”

Shelley sat in a chair next to Doug’s new protégé making ready the writing pad she had in hand when she came into the room. “Go for it, I’m all ears.”

“Miss Summers, earlier I called your attention to that ship out in the river because the man that owns that particular shipping line has a history of skirting Federal and International Maritime laws. His name is Viktor Drakos.”

“Doug? You’re not really giving her that as her first assignment are you?” Shelley said with some excitement in her voice. “That could be dangerous for her.”

Doug Williams normally thought the world of Shelley’s opinion, but not this time. He was dead set on doing it the way he wanted to do it and let her know in no uncertain terms he was calling the shots.

“It’s alright Shelley,” Reese said, trying to break the tension between them. “Mr. Williams and I already had this discussion. If I’m being hired as an investigative reporter, I realize that certain risks come with that position, but I’m willing to take those risks. It wouldn’t be any different for a man, and you and I are as good as any man, right?”

Shelley backed down from the confrontation with Doug allowing him to proceed.

Miss Summers, as you pointed out,” he said with some ire looking in the direction of Shelley, “there are some risks.” Returning his attention to Reese, “But you have the backing of the newspaper and that affords you a degree of protection. I have no intention of leaving you out on a limb. So, you’ll be expected to keep me informed on what’s happening and don’t try to be a hero. We’re a newspaper looking to print the truth, not a criminal investigative unit.”

Doug leaned back in his chair. “If what I said has you in any way doubting whether you want to continue with this appointment, then now is the time to voice it.”

Without hesitation, Reese gave him her final commitment. “Thank you Mr. Williams, but I’m not about to let the job of a lifetime slip through my fingers. I’m your girl!

She reached down to retrieve her personal effects and while doing so mouthed, “Now, with all this talk of ships, I suddenly have a desire to eat some fish. You buying lunch Mr. Williams? You can clue me in on the details over fish tails.”

Shelley grinned at her attempt of comedy, but at the same time was shaking her head as if the girl had no idea what she was getting into.

“Right,” said Doug, “there’s a place just down the block. Meet me by the elevator in a few minutes, I have to make a call before we go.”

The two ladies got up and walked out together.

“I’ll give you credit for one thing,” said Shelley, “You have determination. Not sure that’s going to be enough for you to get what Doug wants though.”

“What
does
he want?” asked Reese as the two headed for the elevator.

“He wants to nail Viktor Drakos’ hide to the wall. They’ve been going at it for years but Doug hasn’t found his Achilles heel. Sure, he’s printed a few articles on the Drakos Shipping Company’s violations, but they only resulted in fines being levied against him. He thinks there’s a bigger story out there and he wants have that piece of writing that puts him out of business.”

“So this is sort of a feud thing then?”

“Afraid so, and looks like you’re going to be thrown right in the middle of it. I’ll give you all the help I can, but you’re going to have to be very creative young lady. If you’re successful, this story will propel your career. But fail and … well, I doubt you’ll ever report on another story. Look, I gotta get this article ready for print,” she said, waving her pad and paper. “Enjoy your fish and I’ll see you when you return. Say hello to my sister for me,” then she disappeared around a corner.

The waitress had delivered their plates piled high with chunks of hot, crispy fish, fries, and slaw. Doug was getting into his third piece of fish and, with his mouth half full, he tried to continue their conversation.

“Buford’s Place serves the best catfish in the state. There’s something in the breading that brings out the taste of the fish. It’s not hiding the fish flavor, but working subtlety with it enticing your taste buds to want more.  Don’t you agree?”

Away from the confines of Doug’s fishbowl, Reese was more at ease talking with him. It seemed as though he was a different person outside the office, but being satiated on food might have had something to do with his calmer disposition. Nonetheless, she felt the opportunity was right for her to ask him some questions.

“How long have you known Mr. Drakos?” she asked before forking in a small piece of fish.

“I was raised here in Savannah. Been working for the
Savannah Daily
for thirty years next month. I guess we met a year after I started here,” he said, then took a drink of his water. “I did a story on him when he first got here. It was about relocating his father’s shipping company to America from Greece. It wasn’t a big company back then – it took more than a decade for him to start to have the big successes. Did you know he’s now almost a billionaire? At least on paper anyway.”

“No, never heard of him before. But, for a second, you seemed pleased with remembering that story you wrote about him,” she said.

“You’re very perceptive Miss Summers. There was a time when he and I were friends. But as his wealth grew, I saw him changing — he was beginning to do business unethically to feed his fortune. I couldn’t accept that, so we had a falling out.”

Reese decided that if she was going to investigate Drakos, now was a good time to take some chances. She pushed deeper. “Shelley says the two of you are feuding.”

Doug looked up slightly indignant that he had been talked about behind his back. “Shelley says a lot of things. What
els
e did she say?”

“Nothing. But don’t you think I need to know everything? I don’t want to be blind-sided once I get into doing this.”

“I don’t know that feud is the right word in our case. I just don’t like what he stands for – that’s himself. He’s become arrogant and a criminal and I have no regard for anyone like that. Maybe if his business wasn’t here in Savannah it would be different. But it
is
here and this is my home.”

She finished the last bite of her fish. “That was really yummy, I’m going to have to remember this place.”

Reese wiped her mouth with her napkin and laid it next to her plate. “Tell me,” she said, “what chance do we, I mean, do I have of getting any real dirt on him. If it was easy, you would have found out what he’s really up to before now. And, just what is it you suspect he’s doing?”

The waitress brought the check to their table and Doug picked it up to pay. She saw him scrutinize the bill and then place his credit card in the folder.

Returning his attention to Reese, he answered, “I’m not sure what the chances are. He’s rich, slick, and has a loyal following among the longshoremen and the crews of his ships. As to your second question, there seems to be extra precaution taken around certain cargo containers that get loaded onto his ships. I don’t know what’s in them, but it’s more than suspicious activity. I think if we can find out what it is, we’ll have our story.”

“Well, I thank you for lunch. I’ll close up all my loose ends in New Harmony and be back in a few weeks. I plan on staying the weekend and getting more familiar with the city. Any places you recommend I visit?”

“You’ve got to visit Tybee Island,” he suggested. “On the way out there, there’s an old civil war fort that might be worth your time — Fort Pulaski National Monument. You into ghosts?”

Reese’s head shake and the face she made spoke volumes. Well, they have some good tours of The Squares. You’ll get to see the Mercer House that was made famous by the book
Midnight
in the Garden of Good and Evil
and a follow up film. Did you know that Georgia is the only state in the union that tried a man four times for the same murder?”

“I remember hearing something about that when I was around eleven. Is there anything else other than the dark side of the city?”

“Well seeing as how you’re a reporter you may want to visit Colony Park Cemetery. Georgia’s first newspaper publisher and printer is buried there. His name was James Johnston. But I’m sure you’ll find something to do,” he said, getting up to leave. “I’ve got to be getting back. You enjoy yourself young lady and don’t hesitate to call me if you have any questions. I’ll clear a space for you to work from before you return. Be careful going home, the highway from here to Macon is like a racetrack, especially on Sundays.”