going to recognize the fact, and then you’ll be able to name your own price for commercial contracts.”
“You know, that’s one part of this game I really don’t like too much,” Tim said. “You sign contracts with people promising to wear this and drink that and play their brand of balls. You get your picture taken for magazine ads selling everything from chewing gum to power lawn mowers. We’re getting to be like Indianapolis racing cars with advertising space for rent all over our bodies.”
“Sure, it’s commercial as hell,” Vic agreed, “but the money is a damn sight more honest than when I was playing. We were all ‘amateurs’ then. No prize money, no endorsements, no shaving commercials. Of course, we didn’t starve. Some ‘friend’ always took care of our meals and lodging, and somehow envelopes with money inside used to find their way into our lockers. How much money was in your envelope depended on how well you did in the tournament. It wasn’t prize money, you understand. We were ‘amateurs.’”
Tim sighed heavily. “I know it’s a fact of life, Vic, and I know that without the extra money from ads and endorsements a lot of the players couldn’t afford to stay on the tour. But I still don’t like to think about it.”
“Don’t think about it,” Vic said. “That’s what I’m here for.” He yawned and stretched his muscular arms. “Guess I’ll hit the hay. You better get some sleep too.”
“I will. Good night, Vic.”
“Good night, Tim.” The coach went out through the door between their rooms and closed it behind him.
Tim went to bed at once, but he lay awake for a long time thinking. Thinking of the laughing blonde girl and the way her body felt when he held her close to kiss her good night.
CHAPTER 14
Sunday morning arrived misty and gray, but with a luminescence that promised sunshine later. The man with the knife cared nothing about the weather. He hesitated before the entrance to the Regency House and smoothed his pale hair down before walking in. He strode across the pillared lobby with a precise, determined step. The clerk at the registration desk looked up and smiled politely as he approached
.
“Yes, sir, may I help you?” the clerk said
.
“I believe a friend of mine is registered here. Mr. Michael Wilder.”
“Yes, sir, the American journalist. Shall I ring his room for you?”
“No, don’t do that,” the man said quickly. “You see, several of his friends have got up a bit of a surprise for him today. We’ll be waiting across the street, and if you would be so good as to signal us when he’s about to leave the hotel …”
The clerk looked doubtful. “I really don’t know, sir, whether I should do a thing like that.”
The man drew a billfold from the inside pocket of his jacket and removed a five pound note. He smoothed the edges with thumb and forefinger and laid the note on the counter between them
.
“Your discretion is quite admirable,” he said, “but I’d appreciate it if you could bend the rules this one time. And of course, no one need ever know.”
The eyes of the clerk barely flicked over the note lying on the counter. He said, “Actually, your friend just rang down to ask me to arrange a car hire for him. He should be down directly when the car arrives.”
“Thank you,” the man said shortly, and turned to hurry from the hotel. He left the five pound note where he had dropped it. It did not stay there long
.
This was a lucky break at last, the man thought. Now he would not have to sit forever in the dreary café across the street drinking coffee until Wilder chose to come out. He hurried around the block to the parking garage and
got into the green Jaguar sedan he had left there a few minutes earlier. He drove back to a spot where he could watch the entrance to the Regency House and waited, the Jag’s powerful engine rumbling softly in idle
.
• • •
The telephone in Mike Wilder’s room jangled as he stroked
“You know, that’s one part of this game I really don’t like too much,” Tim said. “You sign contracts with people promising to wear this and drink that and play their brand of balls. You get your picture taken for magazine ads selling everything from chewing gum to power lawn mowers. We’re getting to be like Indianapolis racing cars with advertising space for rent all over our bodies.”
“Sure, it’s commercial as hell,” Vic agreed, “but the money is a damn sight more honest than when I was playing. We were all ‘amateurs’ then. No prize money, no endorsements, no shaving commercials. Of course, we didn’t starve. Some ‘friend’ always took care of our meals and lodging, and somehow envelopes with money inside used to find their way into our lockers. How much money was in your envelope depended on how well you did in the tournament. It wasn’t prize money, you understand. We were ‘amateurs.’”
Tim sighed heavily. “I know it’s a fact of life, Vic, and I know that without the extra money from ads and endorsements a lot of the players couldn’t afford to stay on the tour. But I still don’t like to think about it.”
“Don’t think about it,” Vic said. “That’s what I’m here for.” He yawned and stretched his muscular arms. “Guess I’ll hit the hay. You better get some sleep too.”
“I will. Good night, Vic.”
“Good night, Tim.” The coach went out through the door between their rooms and closed it behind him.
Tim went to bed at once, but he lay awake for a long time thinking. Thinking of the laughing blonde girl and the way her body felt when he held her close to kiss her good night.
CHAPTER 14
Sunday morning arrived misty and gray, but with a luminescence that promised sunshine later. The man with the knife cared nothing about the weather. He hesitated before the entrance to the Regency House and smoothed his pale hair down before walking in. He strode across the pillared lobby with a precise, determined step. The clerk at the registration desk looked up and smiled politely as he approached
.
“Yes, sir, may I help you?” the clerk said
.
“I believe a friend of mine is registered here. Mr. Michael Wilder.”
“Yes, sir, the American journalist. Shall I ring his room for you?”
“No, don’t do that,” the man said quickly. “You see, several of his friends have got up a bit of a surprise for him today. We’ll be waiting across the street, and if you would be so good as to signal us when he’s about to leave the hotel …”
The clerk looked doubtful. “I really don’t know, sir, whether I should do a thing like that.”
The man drew a billfold from the inside pocket of his jacket and removed a five pound note. He smoothed the edges with thumb and forefinger and laid the note on the counter between them
.
“Your discretion is quite admirable,” he said, “but I’d appreciate it if you could bend the rules this one time. And of course, no one need ever know.”
The eyes of the clerk barely flicked over the note lying on the counter. He said, “Actually, your friend just rang down to ask me to arrange a car hire for him. He should be down directly when the car arrives.”
“Thank you,” the man said shortly, and turned to hurry from the hotel. He left the five pound note where he had dropped it. It did not stay there long
.
This was a lucky break at last, the man thought. Now he would not have to sit forever in the dreary café across the street drinking coffee until Wilder chose to come out. He hurried around the block to the parking garage and
got into the green Jaguar sedan he had left there a few minutes earlier. He drove back to a spot where he could watch the entrance to the Regency House and waited, the Jag’s powerful engine rumbling softly in idle
.
• • •
The telephone in Mike Wilder’s room jangled as he stroked
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