Sudden Death - By David Rosenfelt Page 0,20
an envelope on my desk with the New York Giants’ logo on it. It’s a letter from Walter Simmons, confirming our discussion and telling me that the reams of information that the team has on Kenny will be sent shortly. He also lists Kenny’s closest friends on the team and assures me that they have been contacted and urged to cooperate.
Laurie’s out learning what she can about Troy Preston, so even though investigating is not my strong suit, I might as well start on this list. The first name on it isn’t even a player. It’s Bobby Pollard, one of the team’s trainers. Simmons has helpfully provided me with phone numbers and addresses, and Pollard’s wife, Teri, answers on the first ring.
I explain who I am, and she says that Bobby should be home soon and that she’ll call him and tell him I’m coming over. He’s distraught over what has happened to Kenny, and she’s sure he’d love to be able to help. We agree that I’ll be there in thirty minutes. This investigating stuff is not so tough after all.
The Pollards live in Fair Lawn, a nice little town adjacent to Paterson. Its size and location are such that it is really a suburb of Paterson, but the people of Fair Lawn would tend to strangle anyone who made such a reference. All northern New Jersey residents consider themselves connected to New York City, and certainly not to Paterson. This is despite the fact that Fair Lawn is heavily populated with former Patersonians, who escaped in a mass exodus in the sixties and seventies.
Teri Pollard is standing on the front porch of their modest home when I pull up. Her presence is the only thing that distinguishes this house from the others on the street, and as distinguishing features go, it’s a good one. Teri is very attractive in a comfortable, homespun way. I seem to be noticing attractive women more these days; am I getting in practice for a post-Laurie bachelor life?
Teri is also wearing a nurse’s uniform. “You’re a nurse?” I ask, checking to see if my deductive skills are working properly.
“Yes. Part-time. Most of the time I spend with Bobby.”
Teri’s smile matches the rest of her, and she invites me into the den. “Would you like something to drink? We have coffee, tea, soda, orange juice, grapefruit juice, and lemonade.”
“I’ll have a grande decaf cappuccino.” When Kramer said it to Elaine’s shrink on Seinfeld, it was funny, but Teri doesn’t react. I settle for coffee, and she goes off to get it, leaving me with nothing to do but look around the room.
It is definitely a football player’s room, and since Teri doesn’t look like the linebacker type, I assume that this is where Bobby sits and relives some past gridiron glories. The football pictures all show a young man in a high school uniform, so Bobby may have never made it to college ball. It’s surprising, because he appears to be a very large, very powerful young man, and just based on this room, it’s doubtful that his dedication to the sport waned.
There are a number of pictures of Bobby with Kenny Schilling, many in football uniform. All but one have them in “Passaic High” uniforms; in the exception their jerseys say “Inside Football” across the front. The pictures also reveal Bobby to be African-American, whereas Teri is white. I do a quick mental calculation and decide that they are young enough not to have encountered too much societal resistance to their union, though I’m sure some still exists.
Teri comes back with the coffee and sees me looking at the pictures. “Bobby was a great player,” she says, and then smiles sheepishly. “Not that I would necessarily know a great football player if I saw one, but everybody says he was terrific. The fact that he never played in the NFL with Kenny is something he hasn’t fully gotten over, though he’d never admit it.”
At that moment the door opens and Bobby comes in. He brings with him the solution to the mystery of why he gave up football, why he never played in the NFL. Bobby, powerful arms propelling his large frame, sits in a wheelchair. I have no idea what put him there, or when it happened, but the sight of him is an instantly saddening story of shattered dreams. It is also an explanation of why Teri is not a full-time nurse; Bobby must need some help getting around.
“Mr. Carpenter?” he