Night Talk by George Noory Page A

interested in hearing my side of it or should we just start seeing how many years they’ll give me if I save them the money of doing justice and simply plead guilty?”
    â€œGreg, I’m sorry, but I have to tell you that I’ve already heard enough of your side of it to know you’re in quicksand up to your neck. Your message said that the dead guy told people he stole secret files for you, he got a large sum of money from your bank account, that evidence of your dealings with him has been destroyed.”
    â€œIt’s all bullshit. The only contact I had with the guy was some calls that were broadcast nationally. And that crazy call last night.”
    â€œAll of which are missing along with any other possible phone or e-mail contact with him.”
    â€œLiz—”
    â€œPlease, I’m not accusing you, I’m just stating the obvious. This is one of those cases where there’s so much evidence on the table you’re going to have to prove yourself innocent rather than hope the prosecution can’t prove its case. Even who you are is a strike against you. My friend says you’re felony ugly.”
    â€œWhat the fuck is that?”
    â€œSorry. I didn’t mean to drop that on you. It’s a prosecutor’s expression for people whose appearance fits the crime. If you look like a guy who would rob a liquor store and you’re charged with robbing a liquor store, the jury will assume you rob liquor stores. You’re an antiestablishment—”
    â€œTalk show host who would plot with a whacked-out hacker to steal secret files from the government and expose them to the world. Did your U.S. Attorney friend also tell you what the penalty is for stealing top-secret stuff?”
    She hesitated. “You need to talk to a criminal defense attorney.”
    â€œWhat did she tell you?”
    â€œTreason is punishable by death but can be plea bargained down to as little as five years in prison.”
    â€œHey, that’s great. I could broadcast from death row.”
    â€œYou can’t do that.”
    He took a deep breath and tried pushing his pounding heart back down his throat. “I was joking, Liz, joking. This is insane.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Greg. You’ve always been terrific to deal with. Some celebrities are a pain in the ass but you never talk down to anyone. Your staff loves you, they’re all for you at the network.”
    â€œBut—it’s business.”
    â€œYes, it’s business. The network has to, uh, stay neutral until the matter is decided in the courts.”
    â€œNeutral. Meaning stay the hell away from me. I don’t blame them. I feel like I’m trapped in a Kafkaesque story. I woke up this morning felony ugly. I’m in a nightmare.”
    She hesitated again. “There’s one more thing. You’re, uh, suspended until things clear up. I’m sorry.”
    â€œI’m sorry, too. I need an attorney who handles this type of thing. Know anyone?”
    â€œI don’t know him personally, but I’ve heard Carl Nevers speak at state bar events. He handled the Tom and Maddie case.”
    Tom and Maddie were a shock-jock team who relied on outrageous stunts to keep an audience. They were busted for paying a hospital employee for information about celebrity medical records with an emphasis on treatment that had anything to do with sex.
    Greg said, “They each got three years in jail. Barred from broadcasting for life. Bankrupt. Probably suicidal.”
    â€œProbably a win-win for them. The prosecution had a strong case.”
    â€œThe testimony of a hospital clerk with a heroin habit on fire is a strong case?”
    â€œSound familiar? Only in your case you won’t even be able to get the addict on the witness stand to cross-examine him because he jumped out of a window. Ask yourself this. How do you rebut the word of a dead man who had a receipt for money from you in his