Find a quiet spot, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🌙
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“Boss, you really do make my life easy,” Saul said, staring at Julian’s handcuffs.
Seven and a half hours had passed since the incident.
Saul and his assistant had taken turns driving and had finally reached the Nashville police station at one in the morning.
“There are more than twenty media crews outside,” Saul said, his words coming like machine-gun fire.
“On behalf of every bored reporter in America after the Christmas holiday lull, I should thank you.
Even I started wondering whether you secretly own stock in a few other media companies.”
He kept going.
“Your heroic story has spread across the country.
Do you think people see you as a righteous avenger punishing sleazy reporters for invading privacy?
Keep dreaming.
Press groups are already issuing statements calling this an unprecedented attack on press freedom.
One of them called you an enemy of the First Amendment.”
“That is not even the worst part.
Do you know what the old employees at the company are saying?
They are using the criminal case as an excuse to complain to federal regulators and demand that the take-private transaction be halted.”
“In short, Julian, this is a mess.”
“The family agreement is signed, Saul,” Julian said.
“The take-private process is already in motion, and operational control is moving my way.
Even if the world ends tomorrow, for the remaining twenty-three hours I am still the man everyone has to deal with.
As for press associations, no one important cares what they say.”
Then he added, more honestly, “I had been drinking.
I acted on impulse.”
“I know those two reporters went too far,” Saul said with a sigh.
“But you still should not have hit them.
The company already has a terrible reputation, and now this.”
His boss was exhausting.
“At least the record-company acquisition should land,” Julian said suddenly.
“That is enough.
My objective here has been achieved.”
Before Saul arrived, Danielle had come by once and relayed Faith’s message.
The terms of the record-company acquisition had been agreed in principle.
At the earliest, the definitive agreement could be signed the next day.
“What company?” Saul asked.
“Are you still drunk?”
“A new record company.
I found a new artist.
We can sign the acquisition as early as tomorrow, which brings Taylor’s contract with it.
The company needs diversification, Saul.
Music will become one of the major profit channels.
Her album launches in a few weeks, and I do not want this incident to kill the rollout.”
“And what does that have to do with the reporters?” Saul asked.
“Did they mock you for finishing too fast?
Fine, that seems unlikely.”
“Saul,” Julian said, giving him a look, “not everyone has your problem.”
“Stop.
Do not continue.” Saul cut him off at once, as if Julian had stepped on something tender.
“The real reason is simple,” Julian said.
“Those two got photos of me and Faith.
Faith is the key to the record-company plan, and I did not want the story exposed.”
Now the logic finally lined up.
Saul slapped the table.
“I knew it.
I knew you came to Nashville with a plan.
So it was the record company.
Boss, next time do not hide things from me.
I could at least make the acquisition smoother.”
Julian opened his mouth, then closed it.
“Thinking about it,” Saul continued, already warming to his own interpretation, “a record company has strong margins and can connect with the existing business, especially the magazine’s promotional advantages.
Objectively speaking, this is a good move, Julian.”
Julian stared at him.
“I owe you an apology,” Saul said sincerely.
“I was too harsh earlier.
My assistant and I drove seven and a half hours straight, and my head is not clear.
Turns out backing the right boss beats working twice as hard.
I chose well.”
Julian nodded slowly.
“Since your attitude is so sincere, I forgive you, Saul.”
Saul nodded gravely, opened his briefcase, and took out the reporters’ files.
“Both men work with TMZ’s Nashville stringer network.
Both are in the hospital.
According to the preliminary injury reports, one has three broken ribs.
The other has a broken nose.
Both have concussions of varying severity.
My recommendation is a private settlement.
By my estimate, the final cost may exceed one million dollars per person.”
Before coming to the police station, Saul had gone to the hospital and gathered what he could.
“Look at you,” Julian said.
“Do not forget that you once managed money for New York’s five families.
Do we have any gray-area options?”
He said it inside the attorney-client room, where no one was supposed to be recording.
“The price is not unreasonable, Julian,” Saul said, spreading his hands.
“Michael Jordan paid a hundred sixty million dollars in his divorce last year.
Your identity is not what it was.
You are a public figure now.”
“Anything money can solve is not a real problem.
But I will need more of this kind of help in the future.
We might as well see what that network can do.
Do you have anyone to recommend?”
America was far less clean behind the curtain than it looked from the stage.
Against bad people, sometimes the only answer was to be worse.
“All right, boss.
I do not often contact the old circle anymore, except for one old friend.
His name is Mack.
He is sixty-nine, from Louisiana, and he served in Vietnam when he was young…”
Julian cut him off.
“Sixty-nine?
Are you sure?
I asked for a professional, not a nursing-home resident who wets the bed.”
“I vouch for him personally,” Saul said.
“Old Mack is healthy, sharp, and absolutely capable.
His son’s family died in a car accident, leaving behind seven-year-old twins.
He wants to leave them an inheritance, so he has decided to come out of retirement.
He was famous in New York.
They called him Old Shark.
Careful, clean, and one of the few who managed to walk away intact.”
Saul lowered his voice.
“This would only be the beginning.
He can handle a lot of dirty work.”
Julian was silent for a long moment.
After thinking it through, he gave in.
“Within three days, settle with those two reporters.
Cover their medical bills and equipment, secure a civil release, and persuade them not to cooperate.”
Saul’s expression hardened.
“That may weaken the case.
It will not erase the witnesses, the 911 call, the medical records, or the State’s authority to prosecute.
And destroying the equipment creates its own exposure.”
“Then Mack starts by lowering the temperature,” Julian said.
“I need this contained, not magically erased.”
“Done,” Saul said.
“The moment you are out on bail, I will contact him.
Also, can you get me an autographed photo of Faith Hill?
I am a loyal fan.
I have a full collector’s set of her records at home.”
“Faith and Taylor Swift are coming back to Chicago with us,” Julian said.
“You may even get Faith to kiss your forehead.”
“Why are they going to Chicago?”
“Press conference.
The album has a few weeks before release, so we need to start building pre-release buzz now.”
Now that he had gotten to Taylor Swift first, he could not afford to coast.
If handled properly, she might become the biggest singer in the world.
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Ready for more?
I hope this chapter drew you further into the story.
Stick around, because there’s still a lot waiting just ahead.