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Players from both teams gri
“No,” the man with the whistle said. “Tha’s right, Clyde. Good answer. So we learnin’ here. So the next time you pick an’ roll, you roll.”
Play started up again.
I moved around the court, approached the man. “Coach Tom?”
He spoke without looking or taking the whistle out of his mouth. “Yes?”
“I’m here about Grant Jackson.”
He exhaled hard enough to blow the whistle slightly. Heads turned on the court, but he waved it off. “Play on.” He turned to me, aggrieved. “What about him? Not bad enough I lose my star player, I gotta answer questions too?”
“Yeah,” I said. “It must be hard. But it’s harder for his family. For their sake, could you help me out?”
Coach Tom squinted up his eyes and turned his back on the action on the court. “Just what you mean?”
I was treading a fine line here, what with Richard rejecting the case. “I’m trying to help out Grant’s mom. See if there’s any insurance money to be had. It’s probably a long shot, but the woman had ten kids. If you can see a way to help me out.”
“How could I do that?”
“I understand Grant collapsed during a practice. Was that up here?”
“Course it here. You think we got some other gym we use for games? This here’s it. Always has been, probably always will. ‘Specially now.”
“You mean without Grant?”
“Made a difference, that he did. Expectations were high.”
“Justifiably so?”
He squinted. “Wha’s that?”
“Did you think Grant would have made a difference?”
“Yes, he would. How much is hard to say, but he certainly would.” He jerked his thumb. “These are good boys, but without him they just another team.”
“How will they do?”
“Same as usual. Not too good, not too bad. Couple of schools we always beat, couple always beat us. Bunch i
“How long have you coached this team?”
“Twenty-six years now.”
“Ever had a player like Grant?”
“I had good players. But like Grant? No, not like Grant. Damn shame.”
“How did it happen?”
“We havin’ a scrimmage, just like this. He goes up for a rebound. Come down holdin’ his side. I thought he got elbowed. By the guy in front. I’m giving him what-for ’bout boxin’ out, he fall down on the floor.”
“Any chance he did take an elbow to the ribs, something might have hurt his heart?”
“Sure there is. But that’s not what killed him. Not accordin’ to the TV.”
“That surprised you?”
“What?”
“That he was taking drugs?”
“Yes and no.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Coach Tom scratched his nose. “You gotta understand. I seen ’em come, I seen ’ em go. All types of kid. I never seen a kid as good as Grant. But I seen kids like him. I know how they think.”
“And how is that?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
He tapped his glasses. “You can see it in their eyes. The fear. The fear of failure. They got all the goods they need to succeed, and they afraid it’s not enough. They scared to death to get out there, have to prove themselves.” He shrugged. “So they turn to junk. You think Grant the first star player I had took to drugs? What planet you live on?”
“Grant was a special case. He had a heart problem. He knew drugs could kill him.”
“Drugs could kill anybody. Sometimes do. They still take ’em. Kid got the fear, like Grant, he not thinkin’ that. He don’t care. I’m not sayin’ he tryin’ to kill himself. But it’s not a deterrent, you know what I mean? Grant decide to take a toot, stuff don’t agree with him, there you go. Shame, but there you be.”
Coach Tom watched the action up and down the court. “Bounce-pass, Larry. Bounce-pass.”
“Grant never used drugs before?”
“How should I know?”
“I don’t know. The college have a drug policy?”
“Sure they do. Make me run drug tests.” He snorted. “What a joke. Guys pee in a cup. Big deal. Pass the cup around. Guy who’s not high pees for ’em all.”
“You don’t supervise ’em?”
He gave me the evil eye. “You like to hold that cup? They say test ’em, I test ’em. They don’t like it, jus’ too damn bad.”
“So Grant passed his drug screen?”
“That he did. Did he pass it on his own, I couldn’t say.”
“If he was gettin’ high, who was giving it to him?”
He gave me another look. “How the hell should I know?”
I shrugged. “You strike me as a man don’t miss much. I bet you could tell me the most likely source on your team for coke or grass.”
“Oh, you think so?” Coach Tom blew the whistle. “No, tha’s a turnover. You can palm the ball all you want, no one care anymore, but you carry it like that, you go
He stuck his finger in my face. “So lemme put it ‘nother way. How will knowing where Grant got his drugs help you get some insurance money for his mom? Riddle me that.”
I couldn’t.
MacAullif smiled when I walked in the door.
I stopped, blinked, wondered if I was in the wrong office.
“Hi, how you doin’?” MacAullif said.
I looked at him suspiciously. “Just fine. How are you?”
“Couldn’t be better.”
I was concerned. If things couldn’t be better, something was definitely wrong. Under normal circumstances Sergeant MacAullif treated my entrance into his office as an intrusion on his valuable time. If he was pleased to see me, the world was out of whack.
“I’m glad to hear it,” I said. “I’m wondering if you have time to discuss a case.”
“As long as you can be calm.”
“Calm?”
“Yes. And don’t get riled up. And don’t get me riled up. Do you think you can do that?”
“Why would I get you riled up?”
“Because you always do,” MacAullif flared, and immediately pulled back.
“Jeez, MacAullif,” I said. “You mind telling me why you’re trying so hard to keep calm?”
MacAullif exhaled through his teeth. He sounded like a steam locomotive. “Blood pressure. I got high blood pressure. I had my physical, the doc says it’s dangerously high. Gotta avoid stress. Gotta avoid tension. Tough assignment, the work I do, but there are ways and there are ways. The main way, Doc says, is don’t take it personally. It may be a homicide, but it’s just a job. You handle it and move on. So the bottom line is, while I’d much prefer you didn’t bring me any more stress, I’m not go
“I could use some help.”
A frown crossed MacAullif’s face, was instantly replaced by a smile. “Of course,” he said. “Pray tell me what you want. So I may help you with it before getting back to the three homicides I am coordinating. Among five detectives, as one is out with the flu.” He considered. “I said that very calmly. I should get points for that.”
“You should get points just for saying among. Most cops would say between.”
MacAullif gave me an utterly baffled look. “Excuse me?”
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your calm. I was just wondering if you had anything on the Grant Jackson case.”
MacAullif frowned. “What made you wonder that?”
“The mother called Rosenberg and Stone.”
“Indeed,” MacAullif said. He didn’t sound happy. “Well, it happens to have crossed my desk. It is not one of the three homicides I mentioned. It is in addition to the three homicides I mentioned. It is a closed case I was hoping to clear, for, as I say, manpower is short.”