QB1

by

Pete Bowen

SMASHWORDS EDITION

PUBLISHED BY:

Pete Bowen on Smashwords

QB1

Copyright © 2010 by Pete Bowen

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

Prologue

He kicked the accelerator to the floor on the ZR1 Corvette as the 638 horsepower, 6.2 liter engine pinned him back in his seat. The brute power of the beast was worth the price of admission. He’d been handed the car only six weeks ago. It was supposed to be an SUV, but he’d negotiated with GM to upgrade to this baby with some advertising appearances. He’d even done a TV show when they handed over the car and gave him some driving pointers at Sears Point with a professional driver. The car had been sitting in a parking lot for the last month and was dirty. Tired from a day of driving, he took his foot off the gas and dropped down from 110 to 75. He didn’t need a ticket tonight. Driving on 280 into San Francisco, he found a local sports talk show and it didn’t take long for the discussion to get to him.

Host: Welcome Fast Eddie to Sports Talk

Caller: Joe, rumor has it that Tony Reilly is on his way to the Bay Area to sign a contract and Isackson is on his way to Miami.

Host: The team never comments on negotiations but I gotta believe that the decision is imminent. This contract negotiation has been long and difficult for the team and Reilly has said he’ll sit out the season rather than accept a one year offer as the franchise player. Let’s face it Reilly has the juice to get what he wants here. He’ll never sit on the bench again behind anyone.

Caller: This all should have been handled months ago. This was Oscar Tierney playing games. The man is a menace.

Host: I know Eddie. Tierney has not played this well. He’s alienated the best quarterback in football, fans and the team looks bad here.

Reilly took his exit and worked his way to his house with little traffic this time of night. He hoped she was still there. Maybe slip into bed beside her. Not wake her up. Have “the talk” tomorrow. Maybe not even have the talk. Yea, right.

He looked at the dashboard clock, 1:04 AM. He drove the car into the driveway. The house was dark, the street deserted. Hit the garage door opener and pulled the Vette in. Gathered up his stuff from the passenger seat and opened the car door. Put his foot on the ground to climb out.

He never saw who put two in the back of his head.

Chapter 1 – Two Months Earlier

You never get a good call at 4 AM. “It’s the friends you can call up at four a.m. that matter,” Marlene Dietrich said. I’m looking for no new friends at this point. 4 AM calls are always bad news. “Hey Tommy, you just won the lottery”. No one calls you at four to tell you something good. I get more than my share of 4 AM calls. I consider myself an expert on 4 AM calls. I’d been sleeping, maybe a half an hour, when I got it this time.

“Mr. Mullins, it’s Torley.” Torley worked for me as an IT expert and sometimes investigative work even though he’s not licensed when we’re short handed, which we are all the time.

“Torley.” That’s all I could manage.

“My wife is having the baby, Mr. Mullins. I have to get to the hospital. I can’t stay on this guy. What do you want me to do? Take the van?”

I’m drawing a blank trying to figure out what he was talking about. I said, “The van?” The brandy I had thrown down wasn’t helping.

Torley went back to square one. “I’m on surveillance, watching this dickhead, Hinton. We’ve been on him for the last 3 days. Jose Penna is in Sacramento. We got no one to cover. I got a personal emergency here, Mr. Mullins. No one else around to take over. You want me to leave or can you cover?”

Brain begins to engage. Hinton was a suspect in a murder investigation. The agency was working for the guy who was sitting in jail for it. Our client was a shitbag dealer who had been paying us at double time to try and nail this guy Hinton, who the dealer said had to have done it. “I guess I’ll have to come out and sit on him.” Tough blowing off something when you’re supposed to be the boss. It’s my detective agency. I own it with my Aunt, Velma Schwarz. She’s not really my Aunt she’s my Godmother. She’s 74 and looking to retire so it’s mostly been me running the show lately.

“You want I should call Roger, Mr. Mullins?” Torley asked.

“Why?”

“He knows the equipment,” Torley said.

“Oh.” The surveillance equipment in the van was complicated and not my strong suit. I closed my eyes and said nothing.

After a minute, Torley pleaded, “I gotta go, Mr. Mullins. What do you want me to do?”

I threw the covers off of me, stood up and said, “Fuck me! Call Roger, tell him to meet me on the curb in 5 minutes. You’re parked in that alley on Army near Mission?”

“Yes,” Torley said.

“If you can wait 30 minutes, you can have my car. Leave the keys by the back tire, if you have to go.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mullins.”

“Is Hinton there?”

“Yea, he’s here. He’s a crazy man, ranting and raving. He’s a maniac.”

I hung up and got dressed. We should stay on this asshole. I didn’t know if he was a killer, but he was a fucked up idiot and could have done it. If I’m taking the client’s money, I’m at least going to give it a shot. I could have had Torley just drive off, but we said we’d watch him.

I dressed and walked out the front door of my house across the street from Ocean Beach in San Francisco. The fog was in. Visibility was ridiculous, maybe 10 feet. I’m used to it, living on the beach, but this was the real deal.

I started up my work car, an old Taurus that I left on the street, and pulled forward to the house next door. Roger came out of the house with his backpack and got in.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Mullins,” Roger cried in his adenoidal whiny voice.

“Just shut the fuck up. Don’t talk to me,” I said.

“I didn’t know that it was the lab, Mr. Mullins!”

“You knew you little shit. You fucked up and it could have cost everyone, everything. Your parents, Velma, me, the business, they could have taken everything and locked us all up. I’ve told you a fucking hundred times don’t put us in jeopardy. You don’t fucking listen,” I screamed at him. He had it coming.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Mullins.” Tears streaming down his face.

“Shut the fuck up. Don’t speak to me.” I drove slowly down the street. Roger crying. He cries a lot. 12 years old, 170 IQ, short for his age, red curly hair. Looks like an elf. He’d always lived next door to me. I love the kid but he’s a tremendous pain in the ass.

The street lights could barely be seen through the fog. I took a right on Judah, drove up to 19th and stopped at the donut shop. Walked in and saw Ed Tonelli sitting in front of a cup of coffee leaning on his elbow. It wasn’t surprising seeing him there. This is where we hang. He did look beat. “Tonelli, I want you to give serious consideration to going on the wagon.” I ordered donuts and drinks for Roger and me, to-go.

Tonelli looked over and said, “What’s Roger doing sitting by the door?”

“Because he’s a dumb fuck,” I said.

“What’d he do this time?”

“He hacked into the personnel data base of the Lawrence Livermore Lab,” I said. “The FBI showed up last night and was in the process of perp walking Professor Bob out in chains when I got there. As soon as they showed up, Roger called me. I went over and spent three hours convincing them that Dad, the USF Dean of the Psychology Department, didn’t do it. They didn’t believe it was Roger. There are firewalls for the firewalls at that place. Fucknut Roger, got into the personnel database looking a guy who owed his ex-wife alimony.”

“So, what happened?” Tonelli asked.

“I convinced them that it was Roger. I told them I’d show them how he did it if they dropped it. Getting that Okayed took hours. He went in the network through a back door service modem that they had forgotten to disconnect. We agreed not to disclose anything in return for no charges. Non-Disclosure Agreements under penalty of death, shit.” I winked at Tonelli, “so don’t tell anyone. It’s a damn good thing we know Bob Forbes. Special Fucking Agent Herbert Nelson was in charge and would have had Roger’s Dad on the water board within the hour. Jesus Christ, what a dick that guy is.”

We both knew Nelson well; Bob Forbes was his boss. Tonelli is the diplomatic one between us. When I worked for SFPD, I had given up trying to deal with Nelson and would defer to Tonelli when we had to interface with the FBI.

“So, Roger is at the top of the old shit list this morning, huh?” said Tonelli with a tired chuckle.

“Oh yea, he’ll be right up there for the next couple of years after last night. Why are you here, Tonelli? Jennifer finally wise-up to your pussy hunting? Butcher at it again last night?” Jennifer was his wife.

Tonelli looked down at his coffee and whispered, “yea, another one.”

I raised my eyebrows, the Butcher again? This time it had only been a few days since the last one.

Give the Mayor the credit for the name. Viciously carving women up in a sexual frenzy, the Butcher was a problem, Tonelli’s problem. After the forth victim’s hacked up, dismembered body was found in an alley in the Mission, the national news got involved. It had been a Bay Area story till then. The Mayor, never missing an opportunity to get his mug on camera, made a speech talking about police effort against this “Butcher”. It stuck. That was 3 months and 5 bodies ago. Nine women in seven months, a lifetime ago for me. It had started right after I left the SFPD.

“What do you got?" It was our usual question to each other when we wanted to be filled in.

“Prostitute, mutilated, near a dumpster by the Beach House. Same kind of work. Almost a flaying of the skin. Sexual organs hacked. All doubled bagged with a hand sticking out the top. You couldn’t miss it. He’s showing off his work. The body is at the coroners now. I don’t expect much. We’ve found some green carpet fibers on some of the bodies and DNA that is consistent with the same guy. It’s him, alright.”

“What a sick fuck," I said. I looked down at my watch. “I gotta run. Torley is having a baby. Say hello to Jen for me. Keep me in the loop. Roundball, you and me Sunday morning.” I grabbed the coffee and donuts and threw down money on the counter. Roger and I walked out. I thought I was going to be sitting in a van for the next 12 hours, bored to tears.

I was wrong.

Chapter 2

Torley Shin, our electronics guy, was standing on a corner a block from where we had our surveillance van parked. A non-descript extended Chevy van with Peoples Plumbers painted on the side. Torley stepped off the curb and flagged us down. The neighborhood was deserted at 4:55 AM. The fog was beginning to lighten with the dawn.

“Thanks for coming, Mr. Mullins, I appreciate it,” he said.

“No problemo, my man, what’s going on with this idiot?”

“Have you been reading the reports, Mr. Mullins?”

“Torley, I’ve been buried in Sacramento all week. I haven’t had a chance to do much of anything else,” I said.

“I’ve read them,” said Roger.

“The douchebag is fucking insane,” said Torley. “He’s selling meth and steroids. He’s using both and smoking crack. He’s usually up all night raging about how he’s going to kill everyone. Screaming at the top of his lungs at the walls, about The Man. He’s a fucking maniac.”

“Has he said anything about Rasheed Walters?” I asked. Walters was our client.

“His name came up in a rant yesterday. Something like, “you see what happens when you fuck with me, Rasheed? That was along with “all you fucking niggers are going to fucking pay”. He’s crazy racist.”

“You got cameras in, Torley?” I asked.

“Yea, I put two in on Tuesday. Paul Darwin and I have been watching him since then, 12 on 12 off. I don’t think Paul was watching too hard. He didn’t say anything about him. He must have taken a nap during his shift because this guy is a trip, Mr. Mullins. This is like, must see reality TV, 24/7 with this guy," said Torley.

“I winced, I don’t pay Darwin to sleep for 12 hours or spend his shift surfing porn. "Are there tapes there from his shifts?” I asked.

“Yea, it’s all digital on the same hard drive. I haven’t looked at Darwin’s shift. Don’t get me in trouble with Darwin, Mr. Mullins. Maybe the guy was asleep during his shifts and nothing happened. I haven’t looked, but this guy doesn’t sleep much.”

“His report was very short,” said Roger.

“We’ll review the tape. How’s the wife, Torley? I thought she was having a baby?”

“She is! Her water broke an hour ago. She’s having contractions but they are slow. Her mother is with her. We’re cool,” he said.

“Perfect, I appreciate you hanging around. We’ll take it from here. You go have a baby,” I said.

“Call me if you got any questions,” Torley said.

We exchanged keys and Roger and I walked to the end of the block and slipped into the van. The area was deserted. It was in an industrial area and strange spot for an apartment. This guy liked his privacy.

Roger fired up the equipment and the grainy video of Charles “Chucky” Hinton’s apartment filled the screen in front of us. He was sitting in a lounge chair with a beer in his hand and his head thrown back.

“Looks asleep to me, Roge,” I said.

“He does to me too, Mr. Mullins.”

I looked around the inside of the van and saw a pillow and blanket in the corner. Probably where Darwin had spent his shift. I got off my seat and went over and lay down.

“Keep an eye on things, Roger.”

I was asleep on the floor of the van inside of 30 seconds.

Chapter 3

“Mr. Mullins, wake up.”

Roger was in my face. I didn’t know where I was.

“What’s going on?” I said. When I’m tired like that, it takes me awhile to get orientated.

“The guy is driving somewhere. We should follow him.”

I sat up and saw that it was light outside the darkened window of the van. Looked at my watch and saw it was 9:15. I ran my hand over my face and moved to the front seat of the van with Roger following me into the passenger seat. “Where is he?” I said.

Roger said, “Follow him on the GPS screen. There is a tracer on his truck.”

Sweet, I thought. Cops don’t get to put tracers on suspect vehicles. I could see an older pickup truck pulling out of a building down the street. “That’s him, huh?”

“That’s him,” said Roger. His eyes were wide with excitement. “I think he’s going to give someone some drugs. He just got a call and said he’d be over in 20 minutes. Then, he said $600.” He pointed at the screen. “You can stay back of him by a half a mile and then just follow the dot on the screen. Just like the GPS in the other car.”

“Cool,” I said. I know about this stuff I just hadn’t used it before. Roger had spent a lot of time with Torley when we first set the van up. We hadn’t had it that long but they showed it to me. Tracking Hinton’s vehicle required a device like a miniature cell phone to be hidden somewhere on it. Torley must have set it up. I watched the dot on the screen move down the street. When he drove around the corner, I pulled out. He took Mission Ave and pulled up to an apartment house on Adair. I pulled into a parking space a block away and got my first long distance look at Chucky Hinton. “What was he doing while I was sleeping Roger?”

“Nothing, Mr. Mullins. He was sleeping like you. I was watching the video from the last three days.”

“Anything interesting?” Hinton came out of the apartment house, got in his truck and started moving again. I let him drive off and then we pulled out. There was no reason to keep visual contact. This guy was paranoid anyway.

“He brought a woman in,” he said.

“So, did you watch them fucking, you little perv?” I leered over at him, stifling a laugh.

“No, they didn’t do that.”

“Don’t make me pull this out of you, what happened?”

“They started drinking and then he hit her. Then, he threatened her with a knife.

I looked over at Roger, as I drove. I was keeping the distance between us and the dot on the map as Hinton drove further into the city. Roger was staring straight ahead.

“He was very violent, Mr. Mullins.” I realized Roger had been unusually quiet up until now. I’d been half asleep and didn’t notice. The kid was upset. Of course, there is a fine line of emotions from Roger. He’s bawling half the time.

“He hit her?”

“Punched her really hard in the stomach. Then he slapped her across the face. She was lying on the floor crying and she got sick.”

“When was this?”

“Two days ago at 2:30 AM.”

“Was this written up?”

“It was on Darwin’s shift. There wasn’t anything about this in his report.”

“So, he smacks her around, has a knife and threatens her?”

“He said, you nasty fucking cunt. You puked on my carpet. I’ll fucking take you apart. I’ll make you wish you were dead.” He grabbed a towel and told her to clean up after herself. While she was doing that, he pulled her head back and put the blade of a knife against her throat. He said, get downstairs you fucking whore. He picked her up and they left through the door.”

“And what happened then?,” I said.

“I don’t know, we only have a feed for his apartment.”

“Did they leave?”

“He came back alone about an hour later. He came in naked, took a shower and then he left again. He came back 30 minutes later.”

I picked up my cell and called Darwin. I got voicemail and told him to call me as soon as he got the message. I called Torley and got voicemail and told him to call me. We were now downtown in the Tenderloin. At night this is a pretty shitty area. During the day, it’s bums, runaway kids and the occasional prostitute. A block up, I saw Hinton pull over next to a woman. Or at least I thought it was a woman. Tough to tell even next to some of them. She leaned into the truck. I pulled to the curb and watched. “I wouldn’t do that sweetie,” I said. “Roger, call Mission Kaiser and try to get Torley’s wife’s room. Tell them it’s an emergency and I need to speak to the husband.”

Roger opened his laptop and went looking for the hospital’s number. I opened my cell and called Ed Tonelli. I figured he was asleep but I left him a message to call ASAP. As I watched the woman get into Hinton’s truck, I called Tonelli’s phone at the Department. I got a machine there too but I punched for the operator. I had to talk to someone. I got an operator who asked what the call was regarding and I said I wanted to speak to Inspector Tonelli or anyone else working on the Butcher case. The woman got into Hinton’s truck and he started to move. I finally got a live body on the line.

“This is Officer Chavez, can I help you?”

“Manny, this is Tom Mullins.” I knew Chavez well, a good guy.

“Tommy Mullins, dude, how’s it hanging?”

“Loose Manny, you know me.” I could hear Roger talking to the hospital next to me. He was pleading to be put through to the wife’s room. “Manny, I got a question. I was talking to Tonelli earlier and he says you got a new Butcher stiff?”

“Yup, the fun never ends around here, Tommy. Hey, how you doing? I hear you’re working as a PI?”

“You got it right. Up to eyeballs in alligators all over again.” Roger looked over at me and indicated he was on hold. “Manny, I got a call into Tonelli but I want to find out, did you have a time of death on the newest body.”

Chavez hesitated. I knew he shouldn’t be talking about an investigation but I knew he would. “That hasn’t been released yet, Tom. If you want a guess I‘d say 48 to 60 hours. Probably closer to 48. He’s usually dumping them in the early morning hours. He’s murdered them a couple of hours prior to that. Why? What do you got? We could use anything here.”

“You got prior photos of this victim?”

“We got a couple of mug shots. She’d been busted for prostitution a half a dozen times.”

“Would you email me them to me, Manny?”

“If you tell me what’s going on, I’ll think about it.”

“Just a couple of coincidences from another case. It’s probably nothing. I’ll get back to you whether this turns out to be anything or not. Word, Manny.” All I had was some circumstantial shit we’d found with illegal bugs and I didn’t want to get SFPD into Hinton, yet. If this was Tonelli, it might be a different story. “Can you send them over to me Manny, please?”

“I guess so.” I gave him my email address. When can you send them, Manny?”

“Fuck you, Tommy! I’ll send them in a few minutes.”

Roger was still on hold as we headed south on 101. “Is Hinton the Butcher, Mr. Mullins?”

“I don’t know, Roger. How well do you see the face of the girl on the video?”

Roger sat up. “Thank you,” he said. They’re connecting me to Torley’s room, Mr. Mullins.” Roger handed the phone to me. The phone line was ringing the room.

“Hello?”

“Torley, it’s Mullins.”

“Mr. Mullins, it’s a boy!”

“That’s great, Torley. Congratulations.” I followed Hinton on the screen and got off at the Army exit. He was headed home. “Torley, got a question for you.”

“Sure, Mr. Mullins.”

“Did you know anything about the girl Hinton had in Tuesday night or no, early Wednesday morning?”

“Ummm. No. I was off. That was Darwin’s shift.”

“Darwin didn’t mention anything about a woman?”

“No, he didn’t say anything.” That motherfucker Darwin, thought Mullins. He had to be asleep, off getting shitfaced or laid.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Mullins?”

“No. Torley, what’s downstairs. You’ve been in there. What’s underneath the apartment?”

“Well, that’s where he keeps his truck.”

“I know. Is there anything else down there?”

“Yea, I think it’s a paint room.”

“A paint room?”

“You know where you paint vehicles, big stuff?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, it’s a big area enclosed in plastic sheeting.”

I drove up Hinton’s street and stopped in our same parking spot and watched Hinton’s truck drive in to his building. “Torley, you see any painting equipment?”

“I don’t remember,” said Torley.

“Torley, how did you get into his apartment to set the bugs?” I leaned over and said to Roger, “Fire up the camera.” Roger scrambled between the seats back to the equipment.

“I picked the entrance on the front of the building when he wasn’t home. Why, you want to get in?”

“Yea, I might.”

“I made a key from a copy I found inside. Should be in the glove compartment. I always do that when I can because I’m not the best lock pick and saves time retrieving equipment.”

Fucking, Torley. I made a note to give him a bonus. “Dad, enjoy your new baby. Do me a favor and leave your cell on. Kiss Mama for me.”

I grabbed Roger’s computer and went to my email. There were 42 new emails waiting for me. One of them was from Manny Chavez with attachments. I opened it and saw a mug shot of a skanky tired looking woman. I showed it to Roger. “Is this the woman in the video?” He studied it and slowly shook his head.

“I don’t know, Mr. Mullins. It looks kind of like her.” The video screen lit up and we could see the inside of the apartment. The woman sat on the couch while Hinton was firing up a crack pipe. I opened the other email attachment and showed Roger. It was different and she looked much more attractive than the first. Roger shook his head again.

“I can’t tell Mr. Mullins,” he whined. “It looks like her but I can’t say for sure.” Hinton took another pull on the pipe and offered a hit to the girl. “Do you want me to show you? I can find it again.” After the woman blew the smoke out, Hinton stood over her.

“You like that bitch?” he said. “Of course you do, you little fucking whore.” He then twisted her arm back and hit her on the side of the head with a punch that dropped her to the floor.”

“Oh no,” said Roger.

“Fuck me,” I said. I picked up my cell and called Tonelli. I heard the phone start to ring as I went looking for the key to the apartment in the glove compartment. I found five separate keys. I got Tonelli’s voicemail again. I hung up and called his house. As the phone rang, I said to Roger, “I want you to call Manny Chavez at the Department. Tell him to get his ass out here, now. Before I could finish, Jennifer Tonelli picked up. “Jen, its Tommy, is Eddie there? It’s an emergency.”

“Oh everything is an emergency with you, Tommy. What’s going on we never see you anymore.”

“Jennifer!!! I screamed. Get fucking Eddie on the phone!”

“Gees Tommy, he’s asleep. I don’t want to wake him.”

“Jennifer, I swear to God. I’ll come over there and strangle you myself if you don’t put him on the phone right now.” I could hear Roger working his way through the SFPD phone system on his cell. We both were looking at the video screen as Hinton lit up another pipe with the girl lay moaning at his feet. When he finished with the pipe, he stood up and kicked her in the ribs as she tried to crawl away. I handed the phone to Roger. “Tell them I’m going in. I think it’s the Butcher.”

I went out the rear door of the van, keys in hand. I ran up the steps to the building. It was 11 AM and there still wasn’t a person on the street. The door was industrial strength with no windows on the lower level. I tried the first key, the second key, the third key turned the lock and I was in. I pulled my Glock and went in to the lower level. I stopped and let my eyes get used to the darkness of the garage. I could see what Torley said was a paint room but no paint equipment. There was just an enclosure covered in plastic. I moved slowly up the wooden stairs. Take him down and let the cops figure this out was the plan. As I got to the door to the apartment, I heard a noise, wheeled around in a shooters stance, then pulled it up. Roger poked his head in the door. I put my finger to my lips and pointed for him to get out.

I turned and couldn’t hear anything behind the apartment door. I twisted the door knob and felt it turn. It wasn’t locked. I looked back and saw Roger standing by the door. I gently opened the door knob and then eased it open.

He was pulling the girl by her hair. He stopped when he saw me, ten feet away. He held a large hunting knife. He picked the girl up and raised the knife to the girl’s throat and screamed, “What the fuck are you doing in my house, dickhead?”

I held the gun in a low stance and calmly said, “drop the knife, it’s over Hinton.”

“I’ll fucking cut her head off,” he said. He held her by her hair with the knife at her throat. It has a huge blade. What an asshole.

I sighed, “Yea, I know.”

Chapter 4

I shot him. The woman and Hinton dropped to the ground. He had a bullet through his head. I picked her up and brought her over to the couch. She was hyperventilating and bruised. Roger peered around the corner of the door. “It’s over,” I said. He stared down at Hinton’s corpse. “Roger,” he didn’t look up. “Roger,” I said louder. He looked at me. “Tell the cops, it’s over. Get an ambulance for the girl.” He looked back down at the body. The blood from the head spreading out underneath the body. “Roger,” I yelled at him. He took off out the door.

He went down the stairs and out the door into the bright sunlight. As he stood on the landing, he saw a full SWAT team with weapons pointed up at him. He threw up his hands in a panic and yelled, “He’s dead,” and burst into tears. It was that picture of Roger with his hands in the air, terror on his face that was on the front of newspapers all over the world the next day.

Chapter 5

Two SWAT team members and Tonelli came into the room after Roger. He looked at the body and said, “Is that him?”

I said, “I think so.”

“You think so?”

“I think so. He was about to kill this one. I looked down at the whimpering girl I was still bent over.”

“Is she hurt?”

“He was beating on her, maybe internal injuries.”

Tonelli radioed the site was secure. Called for EMT’s, crime scene techs and the coroner. I spent the next four hours going over what happened in police debriefings downtown. I lost track of Roger. Tonelli said they drove him home. They asked me to make a statement to the press, but I passed.

Late in the afternoon, cops figured they had enough. Tonelli drove me home. We left from underneath police central, bypassing the throngs of press. “You got him, Tommy,” he said, when we were alone. We got blood stains all over that plastic enclosure downstairs. That’s where he was carving them up.”

“I never killed a guy before, Eddie.”

Tonelli thought about it. “Yea, well that was a good place to start. He had a light on the roof and cars were pulling over in front of us. “Holy shit. This is big, man. This is a game changer for you.” He thought about it some more and said, “and Roger too.”

I fished out my cell and called Velma, my partner at the agency. The line was busy to the office. I tried her cell and got her. She answered the phone with, “It’s about time. I’ve been calling you since 7:30 this morning.” Velma has a bit of a ‘tude.

“Hey Aunt Velma, what’s new?”

“What’s new, Aunt Velma?” she asked in a thick New York Jewish accent, husky from years of Pall Malls. “What’s new, Tommy?” There was just a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “Not much, feet up on the desk, watching Oprah. Oh, wait, they’re interrupting the broadcast with a bulletin. Thomas Mullins and 12 year old Roger Goody have just killed the Butcher and saved a woman from death. You mean that news…Tommy? Why do I have to learn about this from the news?” Velma was hot.

“Sorry Velma, they’ve had me really nailed down at police headquarters. I’m with Ed Tonelli, just ask him.” Tonelli put up his hand in a stop motion and shook his head.

“I don’t want to ask him. I want to ask you. Is Roger okay?”

“Yea, he’s okay, I guess. I haven’t seen him in a few hours.”

“He’s probably traumatized the poor little thing.” I understand the obsession with the little piece of shit. He’s cute and polite. Woman love him. They don’t have to put up with his shit.

“I’m fine, Aunt Velma. Thank you for asking.”

“We’re out of business, did you know that Tommy? We can’t conduct business. These people are relentless. The phone hasn’t stop ringing. You don’t need a Private Detective license, you need an agent! Are you sure the little angel is okay? He’ll need years of counseling. Did you see the picture of him out front of where it happened?”

“No Velma, I’ve been kind of tied up.”

We drove down my street. In front of our houses there was standing room only with a crowd of people and press. At least half a dozen satellite feed trucks were parked in the road. There were two helicopters overhead. How did I not see this coming? “Keep going Eddie, take me around back.”

Tonelli used his cell to call in support. He listened and said, “Neighbors already called. This just started a few minutes ago. You’re hot stuff, Bucko.”

I used my cell and called Roger. “Are you in your house?”

“Yes, with Mom and Dad.”

“You did good today, boy.”

“Mr. Mullins, I was scared you were going to be killed.”

“You were brave, Dude.”

“Oh, Mr. Mullins, you’re the brave one,” he sobbed. “My Mom wants to speak to you Mr. Mullins.”

“Thomas?” Roger’s Mom, Ilene Goody had lived next door to me since I was 10 years old. She is the nicest woman in the world, a literature professor at San Francisco State.

“I’m sorry about all this, Ilene. I want to come in and talk to you about it,” I said. “I’ll come in the back door now.” Tonelli drove me up to the rear of the house. I thanked him and told him I’d call him later. As I got out of the car, a crowd of reporters came running and surrounded me.

“Tom, can you tell us what happened today?” Men and woman were pushing microphones in my face and shouting questions. I just shook my head.

“No comment,” as I pushed the crowd towards Roger’s house. Two uniforms showed up and pushed the reporters away allowing me to move to the door. I waved back at them and walked into the house as Ilene, held the door. “That’s no fun,” I said as I saw Roger and his Dad standing on the other side of the kitchen. Bolo, their big Chesapeake Retriever jumped up on me and started licking. Roger and I spent a lot of time with Bolo across the Great Highway at the beach. “Hey Boy,” I said to him, putting him back on all fours. He wanted more but I held him down. I kissed Ilene and shook hands with Professor Bob. I bumped fists with Roger. “How you doing? Look, I really want to apologize to you folks. I had no idea this little surveillance thing was going to turn out like this. I’m sorry Roger was in the middle of it.”

“I’m not. It was so cool,” Roger beamed.

“Let’s all go sit down in the living room,” Ilene said.

The dog was licking my hand and tried to get up on me when I sat down. I pushed him off and told him to sit. “He wants a beach run,” I said to the others. “So what are you going to do now that you’re famous, Roger?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Mullins.”

“I don’t know either, Roge. I looked at the little family sitting across from me on the couch. Ilene ran her fingers through Roger’s hair. Bob stared at me. “I’ll tell you one thing. I don’t feel like a damn hero. I killed a guy this morning and I feel like shit. Maybe I’m just exhausted after last night. But, I just feel like shit, sorry Ilene.” She was sensitive to profanity.

Bob crossed his legs and smiled. “We’re all exhausted after last night. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. You’re trained to do what you did. But just like a soldier in combat, you never know till you actually experience it. I suggest you give yourself a break. Admit to yourself that this is painful and give yourself some time to heal.”

I put my hands on my face and couldn’t stop it. I started crying. Ilene came to one side of me and Roger the other and they hugged me. Goddamn it, like a little girl. I looked up at Bob still seated with his legs crossed. He hadn’t moved. “Alright, I admit it. Now, what do we do?” wiping the tears from my face.

“Now you know you’re not prepared to…deal with this. Maybe tomorrow you will be or next week or next year.” Goddamn Bob always has the answers for personal issues. I take him with a grain a salt though. He’s completely baffled by his son. Roger pays no attention to him at all. I swear the guy has no parental skills and teaches people how to deal with each other.

I could hear the helicopters above us. I could hear the noise from the street. There were hundreds of people around our homes. “Thomas, I had to disconnect the phone. It’s been ringing constantly. We don’t know what to do. If we go out and talk to them, will they go away?”

“I doubt it,” I said. “I’ve just been saying, no comment. We could continue to do that. We’re not hiding anything at this point. Although Roger, don’t talk about the video surveillance on Hinton. That’s illegal and we could lose our license. Just say we were watching him, when it comes up. The Police know, I told them. I had to justify shooting the son of a bitch. Sorry Ilene.”

“I know, Mr. Mullins,” Roger said.

I sat there thinking and said, “let me call my attorney maybe he has a suggestion.” I’d been on the phone with Dominic Laverney half a dozen times this afternoon with legal questions during the debriefing. I’ve paid this guy a lot of money over the last few years but damn it, he’s good. He answered on the first ring, I put him on speaker “Dominic, we’re buried here,” I said. I explained the situation.

He said, “I called your cell and by the way your mailbox is full. You and little Roger are the most wanted people in the world in this news cycle. You can’t possibly handle this yourself. Turn all communication over to a public relations company. I have the structure of a deal worked out for you. The PR company will represent you in all business communication and even negotiate the right opportunities for you. You probably need an agent too.”

“What opportunities?”

“Oh my God, Tom, TV, books, movies. The world is your oyster at this point. You need help.”

I called the PR company. Told them we were hunkered down unable to move. I agreed on a fee for initial work and had them send a contract back to the attorney for review for future representation. Even though it was past 5 PM they would have someone over inside an hour that could act as a spokesman for us. I called Velma and told her about it and she agreed that it seemed like a good plan. She wasn’t happy about spending money but she never is.

Friday morning, our spokesperson read a statement outlining what happened the day before. Our representative, the owner of the public relations company representing us answered questions and then asked the public to respect our privacy over yesterday’s tragic events. Of course, they didn’t. Roger and I were heroes. Everyone wanted to climb on board that train with us. The press continued to sit outside our homes and at the agency. The phone continued to ring at the office. I should be happy, I thought. I was miserable. I finally threw in the towel. I suggested Roger and his family try a weekend family vacation. Packed a bag and headed north out of the city. Maybe, drink a little vino. Change my mojo.

Chapter 6

The sign said Open but the parking lot was empty at Limestone Vineyards in Sonoma. I walked in to the empty tasting room. I heard someone moving around out back and I yelled, “What do I have to do to get a drink around here?”

“Be right with you,” I heard a voice call. The big bald headed guy came out with two trays of glasses. It always amazed me how much the guy looked like my Dad. “Holy shit, it’s little Tommy Mullins!” He came around the bar and gave me a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey, Uncle Billy.”

“The hero of the day. What are you doing here?”

“Trying to get away from being the hero of the day, I guess.”

“I can’t tell you how proud Mary and I are of you, Tommy. You took out a very nasty piece of shit.”

“Yup, he was, Uncle Billy. I’m just not feeling very good about it.”

He hugged me to him. “Tommy, it’s not an easy thing to go through for most guys.” My Uncle had been a cop for 30 years too, starting in San Francisco and moving to Santa Rosa before buying this small winery. “You did your job, end of story. You’re a hero, whether you like it or not. How’s little Roger taking it?”

“He seems to be fine.” Billy walked behind the bar and poured two glasses.

“This new Cab is beautiful. French Oak for 18 months. The best we’ve ever done.” We clinked glasses and swirled the wine around in the glass. Billy flipped open his cell and placed a call. “Mary, Tommy’s here,” he spoke into the cell. “Yea, he just walked in.” He smiled and listened while she spoke. “I know! The hero arrives! I almost fell on the floor. Last person in the world I thought I’d see. Why don’t you make us some sandwiches and come down. Okay, darling. She’ll be down in a few minutes. I want to hear all about it. I know you’re sick of telling it by now, but this one’s for me.”

When my Aunt Mary arrived with the food, I told them both about yesterday from the start with Roger and the early morning FBI episode. “That was a day to remember, Tommy. No wonder you feel burned out. Now where are you staying? You know you’re welcome here.”

“Thanks Billy but I’m staying at my buddy’s Scott’s house. He’s back east on business, but he’s giving me his place.”

“Well, can you come for dinner? We’ll put out a spread for you.” I said I’d try and we talked for an hour before some customers started coming in. I told them I’d call tomorrow and confirm. Uncle Billy also gave me a mixed case of wine and wouldn’t accept any money for it. There were kisses all around and I said goodbye.

I drove to downtown Sonoma. Put on a Giants cap and sunglasses and strolled around the antique, galleries and specialty food shops. Walked into a cheese shop and bought some salami and cheese. I watched three guys making cheese in big vats out back. I strolled down to Sebastiani Winery and did a quick tour and tasted their wines. Bought a couple of bottles. I walked back to the car and decided to go into my favorite wine bar on the corner. I sat down at the bar and ordered a glass of Zinfandel. Big alcohol, big fruit, I love Zins. I looked over at a copy of the Santa Rosa newspaper sitting in a pile. I could see a picture of Roger holding up his hands, with a picture of Hinton beside it on the front page. Butcher Killer Slain read the headline. I grabbed the paper and opened it to page two to see a picture of me from my cop days.

I looked around and there was hardly anyone in the place. It was only 3:30. I spotted the piano and asked the bartender if I could play it.

“We only have one requirement; you got to be able to play it.” We both laughed and I took my glass over. I’m not very good at the piano. I’m a guitarist. I use to be in a band when I was high school and college. I dabble at the piano, but there is one song I do play. I played and sang Crocodile Rock by Elton John.

“I remember when rock was young; me and Susie had so much fun.” The few people in the bar clapped when I finished. And then, a beautiful woman sat down on the stool beside me. Blond, blue eyed, freckles, just pretty much a knock out.

“Pretty good,” she said. “What else don’t you know?” We both laughed. Perfect teeth.

“That’s pretty much the repertoire,” I said. “Maybe a little blues?”

“Oh good, you play the chords and I’ll play the bass line,” and we played. The moment we started I saw I was way outclassed. The bass line carried the song but it sounded great.

At the end, I scooted over and said, “Now you. You’re the piano player.” She thought for a second and played “Walking in Memphis.” She played and sang it flawlessly to a big ovation, well at least to the half a dozen people in the bar. “Where did you come from? I didn’t see you sitting here.”

“I heard you playing from outside and decided to poke my head in.”

“You must be a professional. You’re fantastic.”

“I’ve played some professionally. I use to entertain on a cruise ship.”

I held out my hand and said, "I’m Tom Mullins."

She said, “Oh wow, I thought you were Ray Charles.” I still had my sunglasses on. We laughed as I took them off. “I’m Liz McNulty, and we shook hands.”

“Can I buy you a drink, Liz McNulty?”

“I could probably force one down. What are you drinking?

“A really good Zin,” I said.

“I’ll have what you’re having. You going to play something else?" she asked.

“No, I suck. Please play something else.” I ordered a couple of glasses and she played, “I’ll Always Love You”. It was better than having Whitney Houston in the room. I was floored. She got a standing ovation from the crowd.

I believe I fell in love with her at that moment.

She acknowledged the people in the bar and grabbed her glass and my hand and said, “Show’s over. Let’s go sit down.” I laughed and toasted the people in the bar. Picked up my glass and we found a table in a corner.

“Wow, you’re something special, Ms. McNulty.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Mullins.”

“Forget about it,” giving it the Sopranos lilt. “So, no more cruise ship entertaining?”

“I don’t think so. I’m working on a recording project now, doing house music with a partner. I’m excited about it. We’ve gotten a lot of positive reaction to it. We’ll see.”

“So what brings you to Sonoma on a Friday afternoon?”

“Oh, I just needed a change of scenery. I’ve never been here before. I read about the Sonoma Mission Inn and wanted to indulge myself for a couple of days.”

“Where you from,” I asked?

“I grew up in Mission Viejo. Went to UCLA and then lived on cruise ships for the last two years. And you?”

“I live in San Francisco on Ocean Beach, about halfway between the Zoo and the Cliff house.”

“Isn’t it really foggy there?” she asked.

“Yea, I love it. I’ve lived in the same house all my life, across the street from the beach. I surf. Run along the beach. I just can’t imagine living anywhere else. My father actually gave me the house before he died a couple of years ago.”

“I’m sorry. That’s a nice thing to do for a son.”

“He was a great Dad. He was always there for me. He raised me alone when my Mom died when I was eight. And he left me financially secure for the rest of my life when he died. I have a lot to live up to be as good as he was.”

“We’re both orphans, she said and smiled. You have any brothers and sisters?”

“No, I was a late life surprise for my parents. They had given up trying to have kids. My Mom was 44 when I was born.”

“Wow, that must have been a surprise. You don’t hear about that happening very often.” We finished our glasses of wine.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

“Yea, I am. I just had fruit and yogurt for breakfast. What did you have in mind?”

“Well there are half a dozen good restaurants around the square. I bought some food for the weekend. We could have a picnic.” I hesitated. “Or, we could go up to the house where I’m staying and cook something on the grill. I’m a good cook and the place has an incredible view.”

She raised her eyebrows. “How do I know you’re not going to rape and dismember me?”

“I don’t do that on the first date. Besides, they caught that guy.”

She smiled. “What do you have to grill?”

“We can stop at Safeway, maybe get some salmon or steak and some veggies, salad.”

“Got any wine?”

“I stopped at my Uncle’s place and got a case earlier. He owns a winery.”

“How about some Rombaurer Chardonnay? It’s my favorite.”

“We’ll pick up a bottle at Safeway.”

So, we left and she followed me to the store and then up to Scott’s house. I found the key and we went in. Scott’s house does have a spectacular view and the sun was setting over the Sonoma Valley. The sun was setting over the fields of vines below us. “Wow, this is beautiful,” she said. I got out some cheese and bread and poured a couple of glasses of wine. We sat on lounge chairs soaking in the view and the wine. “Was this a set up?” she said. “Were you stalking me?”

“Damn it! You saw through my ruse.”

“I just hope you’re not a liar. She looked at me. You better be able to cook.” I laughed.

“You’ll see. I can cook better than I can play the piano.”

“I hope so,” she laughed.

“Oh, that hurts.”

“Is the hot tub hot?” she asked.

“Should be, he’s got it on solar panels.” I got up and took the cover off the tub and saw the steam rise. “Looks like it.” I fired up the gas grill and went in to spice the salmon fillets and assemble the salad. When I came back out again her clothes were on her chair and she was in the hot tub. I said, “I’m sorry this is not a clothing optional establishment.”

“Too bad, don’t look, prude.” We both laughed.

“A little rosemary and olive oil on your salmon?” as I put the fillets on the grill.

“Sure, that’s a good sign you may know what you’re doing.” She leaned back in the tub resting her head on the side.”

“This is pretty close to perfect; hot tub at a perfect temperature, incredible view and a man doing the cooking. Can you hand me my wine?” I retrieved her glass and handed it to her.

“What are you looking at,” she said as I handed it to her.

“The bubbles,” I said as the water jets obscured everything below her bare shoulders. She looked unbelievably sexy. I sipped my wine and fed her a piece of cheese. “You got about 5 minutes till dinner, girl.”

“I guess I’ll need a towel,” she said.

“Well, you’re going to have to get it yourself. I’m sick of waiting on you,” as I sat down and stared at her. We both laughed. “Jesus, my work is never done,” as I stood up, walked over to the grill, flipped the salmon and went looking for a towel.

She came to the table in just the large beach towel knotted around her. I placed the dish in front of her. I had placed a small flower on the plate as garnish with the salad and salmon. “Oh, is the flower edible?” she asked.

“Yea, it’s an aphrodisiac.”

“Really?”

“No,” I said dismissively, chuckling. “It’s just the flowering part of the rosemary.”

“You’re a wiseguy,” she said taking a bite of her fish, “Ummm good.” She pulled my head over to her, kissed me on the mouth and said, “in fact, it’s delicious.”

Dinner didn’t last long. About half way through she was sitting on my lap. The towel fell away and we moved quickly to a bedroom. Kissing, licking, passion I hadn’t experienced in a long time. When it was over, it started again and then again. Darkness fell over the room and after the intense play and a lot of wine, we slept.

I was out cold, just exhausted. Later, from somewhere deep in a dreamland, I heard someone talking. As I listened and tried to understand what he was saying I realized I knew this person. It was my attorney. I lifted open an eye and saw an answering machine beside the bed. I picked up the phone and said hello.

“Tom, is that you?”

“Yea, what’s up, Dominic? I turned my phone off.”

“I’ve been trying to get you all day, Tom. There is a lot going down.”

“Listen Tom, are you near a TV? Roger is about to go on Jay Leno.”

I sat straight up in bed. “What the fuck?”

“Early this afternoon, offers started coming in for TV appearances. NBC put $100,000 on the table for exclusive rights for Roger to tell his story. There are options for additional opportunities that if this goes well might earn him a lot more. NBC flew him and his family down to Southern California for taping. He’ll be on next, turn the TV on.”

“Holy shit! I’ll call you back.” I found the remote for the TV at the end of the bed and turned it on. Found Leno, just in time to hear him introduce America’s youngest private detective and hero, Roger Goody. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Out walked little curly red haired, freckled Roger in a black suit with an open white shirt. He shook hands with Leno and sat down next to him. His legs were far from the floor. He looked like a midget. The TV audience laughed as he sat with a big smile just looking out at the camera.

“Hello Mr. Leno,” he said in his squeaky adenoidal voice. The crowd again laughed. I should mention here that as much of huge pain the ass Roger is to me, people and especially women, find this kid adorable. I don’t get it. I may be a little too close to him to think of him as adorable.

“America’s youngest detective had a pretty big week. Here you are on the front page of the Los Angeles Times,” said Leno. The screen flashed to the picture of Roger holding up his hands in front of the SWAT team from yesterday.

“Yea, that was a pee your pants moment,” he said glancing away from the monitor. The crowd went nuts, laughing and clapping. Roger flashing a big smile.

“Well, lets back up a little and tell us about what happened,” said Leno.

“Okay, I work for a private investigation company that is owned by next door neighbor Thomas Mullins.”

“What about school?”

“I’m home schooled and I take some college classes in Math. I only work at the agency part time. Or at least they only pay me part time.”

“And you do private investigation cases?” asked Leno.

“I don’t have a license or anything, more like work in the office and on the computer but sometimes I ride with Mr. Mullins.”

“So what was going on in this Butcher case?”

“Our agency was working on another case. We were watching a man who we thought was guilty of another crime. Mr. Mullins and I were observing this man yesterday and he was acting very strangely. Yesterday while we were following him, he picked up a woman…” Roger stops talking and looks over at Leno. He gets up, stands on his seat and whispers into his ear.

“Ahhh,” says Leno, “allegedly a woman of ill repute.”

“Exactly,” say Roger. The crowd laughs and claps.

“Go on, Roger”.

“The man takes the woman back to his house and we became very worried for the woman’s safety. Mr. Mullins told me to stay in the vehicle and call the police while he went into the house. While there he determined the woman was being attacked. So he confronted the man.”

“You didn’t stay in the vehicle, did you Roger?” said Leno.

Roger breaks into tears. “I was very worried about Mr. Mullins. I went to the door and saw Mr. Mullins holding a gun and the man holding a large knife against the throat of the woman. Mr. Mullins said put the knife down. The man said a bad word and said, “I’ll cut her head off”. Leno hands him a tissue and Roger wipes his eyes.

“And what happened, Roger?” The crowd wasn’t laughing now.

Mr. Mullins said, “I know.” Roger hesitated. “And then he shot him.” He pointed to the center of his forehead, “right here.” The TV audience went crazy.

“And this turned out to be the man who had killed seven women in the Bay Area. What happened then, Roger?”

“Mr. Mullins leaned down to help the woman and sent me out to let the police know it was over. The police were already there and someone took my picture. I was surprised they got there so soon.”

“Well, that sounds like a pretty exciting day. Better than hanging around the house playing Xbox I guess.”

“Oh I like doing that too.” The crowd laughs.

I’m shaking my head. I can’t believe what I’ve just seen. I looked around and see Liz sitting up in bed with the sheet drawn up to her shoulders and she’s starring at me with her mouth open. I shirk my shoulders and shake my head. I got nothing.

She said, “I meet the most amazing men.”

Chapter 7

The cat was out of the bag with her. The next day I called everyone including Roger. He thought I’d be mad but what could I say? I had taken off and told other people to deal with it. If there were repercussions it was my own fault. There were multiple offers for me to do interviews. I didn’t want to. Financially, it didn’t make sense to turn it down, but I did. There was talk of movie and book rights. There were other opportunities that didn’t involve TV interviews and the cover of the Rolling Stone. Fame just didn’t have much of a draw for me. Looking at the down side of a boatload of money was that I didn’t want to be famous for killing someone. My Dad left me in great shape with Real Estate investments. The agency was doing well. I didn’t feel I needed the money and the whole being famous thing didn’t really interest me.

Roger was another story. This was not my decision. I talked to his parents and suggested that opportunities be carefully considered. I would hate to see him on Maury but his parents weren’t rich. He could bank big money for school on this thing and who knows how long this opportunity would last. The other part of this was, Roger liked it. All my people were telling me Roger might just be a star. By the end of that week there were two million hits on Youtube of him on Leno.

Liz and I sat around all day Saturday talking about all this. That was in between eating, drinking, soaking and…making love. She was completely on my side on this. I talked to everyone involved and by late Saturday afternoon, I told the PR company to turn down everything for me. I wasn’t interested in anything. I wanted privacy. Having one superstar in the family was going to be enough.

Liz said she had to get back Sunday noon. We stayed in bed all morning leisurely making love. She called me killer one time in the throes of passion but apologized for it when I winced. Later, she was sitting having coffee when she got very serious and said those dreaded words, “We need to talk.” She hadn’t said much to me of a personal nature in the last couple of days. A married sister in Dallas and working on a music project with a guy in Southern California. Living in a house with a roommate in Redwood City. But, I thought we had gotten very close. I was in love but that isn’t always a good sign.

She looked me in the eye and said, “I want you to promise me something.”

“Okay,” having no idea where this was going.

“I want you to promise me you won’t come looking for me.” In a week full of surprises this might have been the biggest. It didn’t take long for me to connect the dots and the conclusion was….married. “I’m going through a personal mess at the moment and I’ve got no place for you in it.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. Things may change and I know how to get in touch with you if you’re still interested but not right now.”

“Well Baby, we’ll always have Sonoma,” I said and smiled. A tear fell down her cheek and she kissed me.

“You’re going to be okay, Tommy. I never met anyone who has it more together than you, hero.” I carried her bag to the car and noticed that it had dealer plates, no license, no tracing the car. We kissed again and I watched her drive off. This hurt. But, I kept my promise. As much as I wanted to, I didn’t go looking for her.

Chapter 8 Six weeks later

The phone rang at 4:06 AM. “Wake up, it’s Tonneli.”

“Yea. What do you want?”

“Wake up.”

“Why?”

“Bad news.”

“What?” Like I was expecting good news.

“Tony Reilly has been shot and killed.” This got me out of bed.

“The Quarterback Tony Reilly?”

“Yea, it looks like a terrorist hit.”

“What the fuck?”

“He was shot twice in the back of the head getting out of his car tonight at his house. The words “Praise Allah” were written on his car.”

“Anyone see this?”

“We don’t think so. His wife was asleep in the house. Looks like it was at least an hour before a private security cop saw the garage door open and went to take a look. He called it in. We woke up the wife, she doesn’t know anything.”

“Wow, this sucks,” I said, trying to take this in. Tony Reilly had been The Football hero last season. He was a Bay Area guy. Went to Cal. Lived in San Francisco, for Christ sakes. This was horrible. It then occurred to me…”Why are you calling me?”

“His wife wants you to pick her up. She’s here at Central. We’re done with questions. Her house is an investigation scene and closed up.”

“His wife?”

“Elizabeth Reilly, she requested you pick her up. She knows you. Hey Tommy, this is a big fucking deal. Press is swarming. Drive in to underground parking and we’ll get you out of here.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a half an hour.”

Elizabeth Reilly? Why would she want me? I took the Porche downtown. I turned on the radio and got about the same information I had just gotten from Tonnelli. Live reporter on the scene outside the house. It was all over every radio station. There was speculation that this was an attack on high profile Americans. The FBI and Homeland security were expecting to make a statement and was advising caution for sports figures and celebrities. With light traffic I made it to SFPD Central in 20 minutes. A cop was waiting for me and had me in restricted parking by the elevator. We took the ride up to the 16th floor and immediately shuffled into Captain Edward Conners’ office where the Captain along with Tonnelli and two Lieutenants sat. I shook hands all around. I knew them all. I’d known Conners as a good friend of my Dad’s, since childhood. “I said this is a horrible thing, Reilly was beloved here after last year.”

Conners said, “We’ve just been saying the same thing, Tommy. Look, we’ve questioned Mrs. Reilly and apparently she knows nothing about this. It turns out the couple had been separated for the last 3 months. Reilly just showed up tonight. She wasn’t expecting him. She says they hadn’t even talked since last month and she didn’t know where he was since then. She doesn’t seem to know anything about this. We gave her a residue test, nothing. She has been fully cooperative and she doesn’t have a lawyer and doesn’t want one. We’re going to turn her loose.”

The next of kin would have been the first person to pop up on the investigative radar. “So she didn’t know he was showing up tonight after a month?”

“That’s what she says. But, from what we’ve been able to find out so far, no one else did either. We’ve talked to his agent and Reilly told him he was coming back tonight, but he didn’t have any details. There was an imminent contract deal and his agent suggested he return ASAP with an email. He wrote back he was on his way back and would contact him tomorrow. He’s been in this contract dispute and wasn’t reporting to camp. Apparently, there had been some movement in negotiations and he decided to return from wherever he was. The agent says communication had been rare during the last month and he didn’t even know where he was.”

“Someone knew he was coming home,” I said. “Mrs. Reilly didn’t hear any of this go down?”

“She was asleep in her room when SWAT went in. We scared the shit out of her. She says she knows nothing about this and that looks like the case. And if that’s how it went down, yea, you have to think someone had to be waiting there. Anyway, we got some work to do but we’re done with Mrs. Reilly, for the moment. How do you know her by the way?” Conners asked.

“I don’t,” I said. “Or I don’t remember meeting her.” The Chief looked puzzled. “So, you think this is a terrorist hit?" I asked around the room.

“Possibly or made to look like one,” said Conners. “The word Alhamdulillah was written in marker on the top of the car. It means “Praise Allah”. It could be a signed terrorist hit. It makes sense, it’s a hell of a lot easier to gun down an American celebrity and get world wide notice than to take down a building. All you need is one guy looking to poke 77 virgins and a gun. Or, that could all be just bullshit. Anyway, that’s enough to get the Feds involved and you know what that means…a clusterfuck with the press all over everything. This will be about as big as it gets when it comes to an investigation.”

“Look,” Conners looked me in the eye, “you’re going to have to find a place for Mrs. Reilly for at least a few days. She has no family in the area. We’ve got the house sealed. Please stay in touch with Tonnelli. If Mrs. Reilly needs to get some personal things out of the house or any help, let him know. We’ll try and get you out of here tonight without the press. You know what a pain and the ass they can be,” and winked at me.”

“Okay, thanks Captain,” I said as I stood up and shook hands.

“Tommy,” the Chief looked me in the eye, "we all appreciate your help with the Butcher case. If Mrs. Reilly remembers anything that you think might help us out, you know how to find me.”

“You got it, Chief.” Tonnelli took me down a floor and into an office that had a cop standing outside. I followed him in and saw her sitting on a couch. With a tear stained face and red eyes, sat Liz McNulty. I was too stunned to say a word.

She immediately stood up and walked by me and said, “Let’s go.”

Chapter 9

We drove out of the underground parking without being noticed. I looked over at her as she stared straight ahead. After a minute I broke the silence. “I’m sorry.”

She drew her hands up to her face and screamed, “OH MY GOD!” Screaming, crying women are not my strong suit. I put my hand on her shoulder as I continued to drive. She was sobbing and loudly cried, “OH MY GOD," again. “And they think it was me!”

“I was talking to the police and they don’t think you did it. It’s just policy to question the family first.”

“Oh my God,” she cried again and bent over in her seat. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said feeling completely useless. “Do you have a friend or family you might want to call?”

“Oh no,” was all she said. I don’t think she heard me. I continued to drive toward my house. I thought about going to a hotel, but decided that wasn’t a good idea. Sit down and figure out where I should bring her, was the thought. She leaned her head against the passenger window. She said nothing more. She just sat there and wept.

I said, “this is my house,” as we drove into the garage. We sat there in the dark garage for a minute and said, “Let’s go in and figure out what we’re going to do.” We got out of the car and went in. She sat down on a couch and I thought, as bad as this girl looks with tear stained cheeks, she is stunningly beautiful. I sat down next to her and put my arm around her.

She leaned into me and said quietly, “Oh no”.

At 7:15 AM I heard a knock at the door. Liz was lying on the couch asleep with a blanket over her. I’d been sitting there watching her for the last hour drinking coffee. I quickly got to the door. I didn’t want whoever was knocking to wake her up. I saw it was a large black guy, dressed in a suit, through the side window. Checked my weapon in the back of my waist band, opened the door and quietly said, “What do you want?”

“Tom Mullins?”

“Who’s asking?” He handed me his card.

“I’m Shawn Samuelson. I’m head of security for the San Francisco football team.” I didn’t say anything and just waited for him to continue. I closed the door behind me and stepped out on the porch. “Mr. Mullins, I understand you picked up Mrs. Reilly from the police department last night.” I still didn’t know where this was going. "Mr. Mullins, the team and the President Oscar Tierney would like to extend its sympathies to Mrs. Reilly and offer anything she may need during this time." I nodded. “Also, Mr. Mullins, Mr. Tierney would very much like to speak to you regarding the events of last night. He told me, he would be honored if you could meet with him this morning to discuss the investigation of Tony Reilly’s death.”

“I’m tied up at the moment, Shawn.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Mullins, could you please speak to Mr. Tierney? He held up his cell phone. He was very insistent that he would like a moment of your time.”

I considered it for a second and said okay. He punched in a number on the cell. “Mr. Tierney, I have Mr. Mullins here,” and handed me his cell.

“Hello Mr. Tierney,” I said.

“Hello Tom, how are you this morning?”

“Tired and feeling pretty bad about Tony Reilly,” I said.

“You have no idea how I feel, Tom. It’s why I wanted to set up a meeting with you. I would like to discuss you working with the team in the investigation of his death. We are prepared to offer you a significant retainer to represent us and the league during this investigation. Can you meet with me in my office to discuss this? I would like to move on this immediately.” I thought about this for a moment.

“Possibly, can you put security outside my home?”

“I believe Mr. Samuelson can arrange that quickly. Is Mrs. Reilly there, Tom?”

“Yes, she’s asleep. I don’t want her disturbed.”

“We’ll take care of that.”

“Okay, Mr. Tierney, where would you like to meet?”

“I’m in our offices now.”

“I’ll drive down and see you in an hour.”

“Thank you, Tom. I’m looking forward to it. May I speak to Shawn again? ”

I handed Shawn his phone. He listened for a moment and hung up. I said to him, “I want you to be low key. Looks like the press doesn’t know where she is yet, but I imagine it will be a zoo when they find her.”

“Yes sir. I’ll have very specific instructions for my men. Do you want them in the house?”

“No, I’ll have someone in the house. If there is an issue how do we contact you?”

“Use my cell phone number. I’ll be here until you return.”

“Thanks Shawn. You ex-military? “

“Yes sir, Ranger and Delta Force.”

I nodded. “They’ll be someone in the house with Mrs. Reilly.” I took out a business card and wrote a cell phone number on the back. He’s a twelve year old kid named Roger Goody.”

Chapter 10

I left Roger sitting with his computer at the kitchen table with Liz still asleep. Filled him in on the situation with security and drove the 30 minutes south, down to the team offices. The outside of the place was a zoo with press. I saw every network satellite truck with hundreds of people standing around out front. Police and security waved me through, parked and went in. I was immediately shown into the office of the President and General Manager, Oscar Tierney.

“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Tierney, again I’m sorry about your loss.”

“Thanks for coming in Tom. We’ve met before haven’t we?”

“Yes we have, sir. I met you a few years ago with my Dad, Chief Edward Mullins of the San Francisco Police Department. I was up in your box for a game. It was quite a thrill.”

“Oh I remember Ed Mullins, he passed last year, didn’t he?”

“Yes sir, heart attack.”

“Sorry to hear that, son. He was a great guy.”

“Yes he was.”

“Well, this is devastating, Tom.” He stared out his window, shaking his head. I could see some players running sprints on the practice field. I looked around the room and saw personal photos of Tierney shaking hands with two Presidents. Up on one wall was a large depth chart of the team. For every position there were magnetic strips with player’s names, so they could be moved around. The first name at the QB1, starting quarterback position was Tony Reilly’s name.

“Tony was on his way to being one of the best that ever played the game, Tom.”

“I think you’re right, sir.” He paused still staring out the window. “Tom, I have to think of what is going to happen to the team going forward. This kind of thing could hurt us for a long time. My job is to see that doesn’t happen.”

“Yes sir.”

“First of all I have to protect the individuals on this team. We have no idea if additional personnel on this team have been targeted by these fucking rag heads.” I almost laughed when he said that but managed to stifle it.

“Already this morning I’ve had FBI, Homeland Security and the San Francisco police Investigators in here. You know what I think?” He didn’t wait for a response. “They’re all a bunch of fuckups in suits. They haven’t a clue what happened or what to do. Is this a conspiracy to kill professional athletes? Was this a random act of a bum walking the road? Nobody has nothing.” He turned back around and looked out his window again. “How’s Elizabeth?”

“Very upset. I took her to my house. She was asleep when I left.”

“How do you know her, Tom?”

“Just casually, I met her at a restaurant. She has no family here and didn’t know who to call. She doesn’t have a lawyer. I left her asleep on my couch. I’m not sure what the next step is for her. Probably figure it out when I get back. Police have no reason to believe she was involved. She’s been cooperative.”

“Elizabeth Reilly couldn’t have had anything to do with this,” said Tierney. “She’s a sweetheart. I know she and Tony were having problems but I’d heard they were going to get back together.” Tierney shakes his head, “Tony was under a lot of pressure. Tom, just between you and me, these contract negotiations should never have gone on as long as they did and I accept responsibility for that. It’s blood under the bridge at this point. My responsibility is to get this situation under control and get a team prepared for the start of the season in a month.”

“I spoke with Robert Greenfield this morning.” Greenfield was the President of the League. “We agreed we have a situation here we’re not prepared for. We have nothing in place for an investigative stand point. We know security but for something like this, from the NFL’s standpoint, we don’t know where to go. When there has been a crime committed in the past by a player or to a player, we’ve had law enforcement handle any investigation aspects and we’ve stayed out of it. This situation demands coordination. I’ve suggested that we bring in our own investigative team to coordinate with the various law enforcement entities and conduct any additional inquiries as they see fit. We, and I mean the collective we, from the standpoint of all professional sports, need to get a handle on this situation so we can deal with it. This could be jihad against professional athletes or any kind of celebrity. Did you see El Jazeera out front?”

“I didn’t but I’m not surprised,” I said.

“This is the biggest act of terror since Nine Eleven and we have all these feds and cops running around with their heads cut off. He sat up in his chair and looked across his large desk at me. Tom, I want you to come on board as the team representative in this investigation. I need you to drop whatever else you’re working on and get into this full time.”

I thought for a second and said, “That’s easier said then done, Mr. Tierney. We’re a small agency and frankly we’re as busy as we could possibly be, at the moment. There are far bigger organizations that could conduct this kind of an investigation on a national basis.”

“I don’t give a fuck about a national basis,” he said. I need someone on the street, here. I need to know what the fuck happened to my quarterback, right now!” He stared at me and I didn’t say anything. “I’m willing to offer you $50,000 to start this investigation right now. And a retainer of $200,000 to be paid at double your existing rates for any work done. I will also retain your firm with yearly guarantees for investigative work. I’ve cleared it with the League that you will also be offered investigative work as situations come up. You will have a separate contract with the league for that work. All of this will be guaranteed.” He stared directly at me. I was thinking, “How many athletes has he worked over this hard in the last 7 years?”

“You’ve thought this through? My getting involved just may add to the circus outside.”

“I need the best investigator available, working for me,” he said.

I thought for a moment and said “I need to run this by my partner.” I thought about it for a minute, my eyes never leaving his, “Fax a contract to my office. I also need to run this by an existing client of mine for any conflict of interest.”

“Who’s that?” said Tierney.

“Elizabeth Reilly.”

Chapter 11

I got back to my house before noon. Saw a guy sitting in a car across the street and he waved to me, obviously working security. I walked up the stairs and saw Liz and Roger sitting at the kitchen table playing backgammon through the window. “Oh my God,” I said, walking through the door. “That isn’t backgammon is it? What have I told you about backgammon in this house, Roger?” I yelled. He quickly started picking up the pieces.

“It’s just a game,” he said.

“It’s just a game you cheat at. How many times do I have to tell you? This is an NBZ. Tell Liz what an NBZ is.” Liz sat there with an amazed look on her face. Roger mumbled something.

“What?”

“Tell her what an NBZ is!”

“No Backgammon Zone.”

“That’s right this is a No Backgammon Zone. How many games did you play, Liz?”

“Um, two?”

“And you lost two, didn’t you?”

“It’s just a game, Tom,” she said.

“Oh no, it isn’t,” I said. “It’s much more than that. It’s an opportunity to steal your money.”

“How much did you lose?”

“Well the first game was just learning, but I wasn’t doing too well in this game.”

“And this was for the money, right?”

“It was for a dollar.”

“And the next game would have been double or nothing and so on till he owned you. He’s a devious little shit.”

“You’re mean, Mr. Mullins,” Roger said.

“He’s been wonderful, Tom,” Liz said. “He made coffee and toast and called up the police and got my things delivered here.”

“NBZ, Roger.” I shook my finger at him, “Fucking kid. Go put on some nice clothes, we got work to do.” Roger folded up the game and ran out the back door with the board under his arm.

“He cheats at backgammon?” asked Liz. I just shook my head and sat down across from her.

“How are you doing?” I said.

“I don’t know. I’m trying not to think about it.”

“Did Roger tell you where I’ve been?”

“He said you were talking with the team.”

“I was with Oscar Tierney. He wants to hire us to investigate the murder.”

“Aren’t the police doing that?”

“That’s not the problem. The problem is between the SFPD, State Investigators, FBI and Homeland Security, there could be a difficult investigation as a turf war will inevitably break out. Feds are supposed to trump everyone else, but I have very little confidence in them. Tierney wants someone on his side, coordinating or at least representing him and the League.”

“He’s a smart guy. He’s always been nice to me.”

“What about you? Have you talked to an attorney?”

“I don’t know who to call. Tony and his agent handled the legal stuff.”

“Have you talked to anyone?”

“I just woke up. All I’ve done is lose a game of backgammon.”

“We should go talk to Tony’s lawyer and his agent. His agent is Rosenbloom isn’t it?”

“Yes, I’ve met him a few times.”

“Let’s call him and tell him we want to see him. He should be able to get you headed in the right direction. Who is Tony’s lawyer?”

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Tom, I’m sorry about not telling you about Tony in Sonoma. It was a bad time for me. Tony had left the week before and I was miserable.”

“Well, I figured something was going on. Nothing was said for a couple of minutes. “It was wonderful,” I said. She leaned against me and started crying.

“Oh my God, what a mess.”

“What happened last night?”

“I don’t know.” She looked at me and said, “I really don’t know. I hadn’t heard from Tony for a month. Before he left, he asked me to stay while he was figuring things out. He asked me not to talk about us to anyone. He said he had to figure it out on his own. He wouldn’t say what the problem was. He just said he was working through some problems and he hoped we could stay together. This was after he had been living by himself for a month, after just walking out. I didn’t really have anywhere to go, so I stayed. I have a music studio in the house, so I just kept working. I was waiting to hear what we were going to do.”

“Was there another woman?”

“He said there wasn’t.”

“Were you guys not getting along before all this?”

“Well, he had become distant. He said it was a contract thing that would eventually resolve itself. I thought he just needed some space so I didn’t bug him about it. I guess I’m not confrontational. When he said he was moving out in April, I couldn’t believe it. The next week I decided to go up to Sonoma to have a change of scenery. And, I met you there.”

“He moves out for a month and then says he’s going to leave town for awhile and you don’t hear from him for a month and then one night he shows up murdered in the garage.”

“That’s about it.”

“What happened last night?”

“I took an Ambien at midnight and at around 2 AM I woke with the SWAT team in the room. I was in bed and there were men in my room with guns. I got dressed and they took me to the police station. They read my rights and asked if I needed a lawyer. I said no because I didn’t know anything about what had happened. They gave me a test to see if I fired a gun and a blood sample. I had nothing to hide. I didn’t even see the body. I just saw lots of people around the car and the place lit up with police cars. It was a nightmare. They questioned me for a long time. They decided to release me and then asked me who I wanted to call. I couldn’t think of anyone and so I said you.”

“What are you not telling me?”

She thought for a few seconds, “Nothing.”

“They’ll look at every phone call or email you’ve ever made. If there is anything else, tell me or your lawyer now and we’ll deal with it.”

She looked at me and said, “There is nothing.”

“Someone either followed Tony from the airport or knew he was showing up at the house last night. Was there any contact between you and him, email, cell phone? This is all easy to determine. If there is anything you’re not saying, tell me now and we’ll deal with it.”

She turned to me and looked me in the eye. “Like I told the police, Tom, I don’t know anything.”

We found a number for Rosenbloom’s agency. Liz called him and arranged an appointment for 1:30 downtown. He said he was anxious to see her and had been trying to contact her. I thought about logistics and said, “I think we should get a driver. That way we won’t have to fuck with parking.” I called a friend with a limo and arranged to be picked up. I showered, put on a suit. Roger, Liz and I piled into the car. She had on a black dress and looked stunning. I told her so.

“Wow, this is a big car, isn’t it? I rode in one of these when I was on Leno.” Roger had his little netbook computer open on his lap. He had an Internet roaming card my office paid for. It came in handy sometimes.

“Anything new in the investigation?” I asked as we drove downtown. Roger typed.

He was looking at news stories. “A number of Arab extremist organizations have taken credit for the shooting. The FBI cautions not to take this seriously until something is proven. It’s an article from the AP. Other news organizations have picked up the story.”

I called Tonelli, told him about working with the team and asked him if he had anything. He told me that he couldn’t talk but would speak to the guys upstairs, see what he could share and get back to me. I saw Liz wipe a tear away from her eye.

Reading the computer screen Roger said, “There are some stories about sports teams and celebrities increasing security. The President has issued his regrets about the loss of a great athlete but has urged the public not to jump to any conclusions until more of the facts are in.” Roger read through a few more pages. “The head of Homeland Security stated that there had been no indication of increased terrorist communication regarding any type of plots against Americans. They have raised the terror alert status to Orange.”

“Thank God, we’re saved,” I said. Liz looked over at me. “I’m sorry.”

She laughed, “Don’t be. That’s funny.”

We pulled up to a high rise on California Street and got out at the front door and took the elevator up to the 56th Floor. Mr. Rosenbloom was making a few bucks as an agent. We were shown into his office. It was a large office with an incredible view of the Bay. There was a bank of TV screens, all lit with different channels on one wall. Nonstop coverage of the latest “terror” incident. We were immediately shown in with introductions all around. Rosenbloom knew of Roger and me. He hugged Liz and told her how sorry he was for her loss. “This is a terrible thing for you and everyone who knew him. He was an exceptional athlete but he was also a tremendous guy. I got to know him as a man and I’m just beside myself over this.” He started crying, Liz was crying and Roger was crying. Rosenbloom composed himself wiping away tears and passed around the tissue box.

He drew himself back into the business mode. “We should probably discuss Tony’s estate,” he said. He looked over at me. “This information is private. I might suggest that Tom and Roger leave us for this.”

I stood up and said, “Oh sure.”

“I’m comfortable with letting them stay,” Liz said. “They’ve been helping me.”

“If you’re comfortable Elizabeth, I’m comfortable.” I sat back down. “Have you retained an attorney to represent you?” he asked.

“No, I haven’t. I’m not sure who Tony used,” she said.

“Well, he used us,” said Rosenbloom, “Our staff attorneys. We’re a full service agency. We even pay your bills.”

“Yes, Tony told me that,” she said. “So, is there any money left?”

“You really don’t know, do you Liz?” said Rosenbloom.

“I don’t. Tony told me about some endorsement deals but I don’t know the specifics.”

Rosenbloom sat back in his chair and looked at Liz. “And you don’t know anything about his will?”

Liz shrugged her shoulders, “I have a credit card that always works and I don’t spend much. I’ve got some money I saved from when I was working on cruises. We didn’t talk about money very much. I just knew he was unhappy about his contract. I’m pretty much into my own thing in the music business, for what it’s worth.”

“Liz, Tony signed a contract in March with Nike for $27 million dollars. That contract is still in effect and I don’t see them canceling it. There are also a couple of other endorsement deals that were already completed that total over $7 million. His last six months have been very lucrative. We’ve invested all that for him. He also had an insurance policy that will pay $5 million plus the mortgage on the house.” The room became silent as Rosenbloom looked at her. She looked stunned. Roger’s mouth was open and his eyes wide. Rosenbloom continued, “My job is to protect our clients and maximize income. And Elizabeth, you’re sole beneficiary. The total estate is probably in the area of $40 million before taxes.”

Liz shook her head and said, “Are you kidding? I thought we were screwed unless he got a new contract and he said he was going to hold out till he got one. I thought it was going to be Hamburger Helper without the hamburger.”

Rosenbloom said, “The contract is a whole different story than endorsements. Let me tell you about what was going on with his contract. Tony had completed his original contract of 3 years at $550,000. He wasn’t even drafted, that’s the money you make in his position as third string. The team designated him the franchise player. He was going to receive a salary of $14 million this year. That’s the average of the top 5 players in the game at Quarterback. That’s a lot of money but, we felt that was unacceptable because that was only a one-year contract with no bonus money. If Tony were a free agent, he could expect the highest contract in football and a huge signing bonus. We told the team Tony would sit out the year rather than play under the franchise tag contract. It was never going to work and I can only attribute the team’s stance to sheer arrogance and stupidity. It isn’t the first time Tierney’s been accused of that.”

Rosenbloom continued, “What the Team had to do was trade Tony or Paul Isackson and trading Tony Reilly wasn’t really an option after last season. Tony proved he was a better quarterback than Isackson. Why Tierney was screwing around with this is beyond me. I don’t get what the end game was for San Francisco. Tierney’s always been a tough negotiator but this was ridiculous. He alienated Tony and the fans with this craziness.”

“I know the last couple of months were difficult for Tony. I know that it hurt your relationship with him,” he said to Liz.

“You can say that again,” she said. “I thought we were over.”

“Don’t feel bad, he was angry and barely speaking to me. He wasn’t himself. He was anxious and angry with a situation he couldn’t do anything about except wait for it to be worked out. He wanted to play football but we were out of options. Last month he said the situation was driving him crazy. He was taking off till it was resolved. He didn’t know or he wouldn’t tell me where he was headed. He told me to send him an email when it was done. I’ll be honest with you; I had no idea where he was for the last month. Three days ago I sent him an email and said I thought the situation was about to change and that he should probably return. When they found his body last night, it was the first time I knew where he was in a month.”

“Join the club,” said Liz.

“He wrote me back that he would be returning early in the morning. Up to that time, I was sending him daily emails keeping him up to date on negotiations which frankly until yesterday afternoon hadn’t budged in a month. The Team was dragging its feet, for God knows why. This should have been handled months ago. I still don’t know what the issue was with the Team. They finally worked out a deal to trade Isackson to Miami a couple of days ago. It was all going to happen today. The contract making him the highest paid quarterback in football was ready for his signature. That all turned to shit this morning.”

I said, “Yes it did. That’s an amazing coincidence.” I thought about it for a minute. “I don’t like coincidences. Mr. Rosenbloom, who knew Tony was on his way back?”

Rosenbloom said, “People on my staff and I told the Team that we would be in today to sign. No one was going to say anything until it was a done deal.”

“Who were you dealing with on the Team?”

“Details of the contract were worked out with the Head of Player Personnel, George Crowley.”

“Did you tell him Tony was arriving early this morning?”

“No, I told Oscar Tierney.”

“When did you tell him?”

“It was about 7 PM last night.”

“Can you find out if your staff leaked or told anyone that Tony was on his way back?”

“Sure, but that’s highly doubtful.”

“Why?”

“Because they knew they’d get fired by disclosing something like that. It goes to the press and there would have been a crowd of reporters waiting for him when he landed. I can’t imagine that happening out of this office.”

I said, “I can’t imagine the Tony Reilly being murdered by a terrorist.”

Chapter 12

We got in the car and I yelled up at the driver, “Eddie, Food. I’m starving.” I hadn’t had a thing all day except coffee. It was 3 PM. “Can we do burgers, Liz?” She said it was okay with her so, we found an In and Out and went through the drive-through lane. Roger was tapping away on the computer. I sat there eating a burger and trying to figure out how a Muslim terrorist assassin figures out that his victim is about to show up in a spot where his victim hasn’t been in a month. “They could have been following him,” I said to the others.

“No,” said Roger. He continued to tap away on the keys.

“What do you mean, no?”

He looked up at me. “There are lots of famous athletes that would have been much easier to kill than Tony Reilly if you wanted to make a terrorist statement. Kill Michael Jordan or Mohamed Ali or A-rod or Beckham. Tony Reilly was MIA. Someone wanted to kill Tony Reilly. I think we have to start with the question, where was Tony Reilly?”

I thought about it, “Someplace very low key because he seems to have been completely off the radar for a month. If I’m a betting man, I’d say he was out of the country. He was too well known to have not been recognized for a long period of time.”

“Betting man,” Roger snickered.

I looked up at him and said, “What do you mean by that?” and threw a fry at him.

“You mean like Texas Hold’em?” Roger turned to Liz and said, “Mr. Mullins regularly contributes to other player’s pockets,” he said and laughed.

“He plays Texas Hold 'em like he plays backgammon?” Liz said.

“Exactly,” said Roger and they both laughed.

“Oh that’s rich, the two of you ganging up on me.” Roger held up his fingers in the shape of an L and put it to his forehead and looked over at Liz. She laughed.

“He’s also unlucky in love,” said Roger.

“Oh really? Do tell, Roger,” said Liz.

“Shut up, Roger,” I said.

“Two letters,” said Roger.

“Two letters?” asked Liz.

“MK,” said Roger.

“Shut up, Roger,” I said.

“MK stands for Mary Kennedy,” said Roger. I threw another French fry at him. “Mary was Mr. Mullins’ long time girl friend. But, she’s gone now. She won’t be coming back. She dumped Mr. Mullins.”

“No, she didn’t dump Mr. Mullins. There was a mutual dumping as you well know.”

“Referring to himself in the third person, now,” said Liz.

“I think it could be thought of as a mutual dumping,” said Roger. He turned to Liz and sarcastically shook his head, “Ms. Kennedy was a beautiful woman.” Roger quickly added, “Not as beautiful as you, Liz.” Liz laughed and chucked Roger under the chin.

“You are a charmer, Roger,” said Liz.

“Mary Kennedy is one of the Assistant District Attorneys for the City of San Francisco. She and Mr. Mullins were together forever.”

“No, it just felt like forever,” I said.

“How long was forever?” asked Liz.

“Which time,” said Roger giggling.

“You think this is fucking hilarious don’t you dickhead,” I said.

“It was like 5 years altogether,” Roger said. “There always seemed to be issues. I never understood it; she was always very nice to me.”

“Well, you didn’t live with her, Roger,” I said.

“Ms. Kennedy is a very smart, woman. She graduated form Stanford Law School and was very dedicated to her career,” Roger said.

“She was also dedicated to being an argumentative, impossible bitch, most of the time,” I said.

My cell rang and I saw it was the Team. “Mr. Mullins, its Shawn Samuelson, sir.”

“Yes, Shawn.”

“Mr. Mullins, there is a meeting of law enforcement personnel at 4:30 this afternoon regarding the investigation. Mr. Tierney requests that you attend.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then, Shawn.”

I opened the window to the driver, “Eddie, we’re going to San Francisco Team headquarters. You know where it is?” He said he did and I looked at the other two, “We got a meeting.”

“Let’s get back to Mary Kennedy,” said Liz. “So, you guys lived together?”

“Sometimes,” said Roger.

“Mary was a difficult person to be around on an ongoing basis. She never lost an argument with me. She was always right. She was a workaholic and had anxiety issues,” I said. “You want to know how it finally ended? She was driving me crazy. I was seeing a counselor because I was trying to make the relationship work, God knows why! Anyway, we’re in bed and we start making love. During sex…, during sex, she started a fight! I swear to God, it’s true. I got up from bed, put my clothes on and went home. The next day I told her I couldn’t do it anymore. I told her we had to stop seeing each other. That woman just loved to fight.”

“Would that be coitus argumentus interuptus?” asked Roger.

“I’ve known some difficult people,” said Liz. “It’s no fun.”

“But, it had a happy ending,” said Roger. Two months after Mary and Mr. Mullins broke up, she married a friend of Mr. Mullins and now they’re going to have a baby! Isn’t that great?” The sarcasm dripped from Roger’s mouth.

Liz grimaced and said, “Ouch.”

“Yea,” I said. “I want to thank you for bringing this sordid story of woe up, Roger. You remember me mentioning to you Liz, how necessary it is to keep a foot firmly planted on the back of Roger’s neck?”

“So do you have a girlfriend now, Tom?” Liz asked.

“Mr. Mullins just dates whores now,” said Roger. He pronounced whores, “who-ares”. “Mr. Mullins has been living like a rockstar when it comes to women,” Roger said. “I think there is a definite lack of maturity when it comes to relationships.”

I got off my seat across for Roger. Got him in a head lock and gave him a nuggy on the top of the head while he screamed.

“You’re so mean, Mr. Mullins,” cried Roger as I sat back down. Liz was laughing at us.

“Who-ares, Roger?” she asked.

“I brought a girl around the office one day and she was dressed for a walk on the beach. Velma saw her and told me she didn’t appreciate my bringing my who-ares around the office. So now it’s the go-to line for any woman I’m with.”

“I hope I’m never referred to that way,” she said.

“Velma a little overprotective and a little crazy. She loves us though,” I said.

“She loves me,” said Roger. “I don’t know about you.”

We pulled into Team Headquarters. Satellite trucks. cops, swarms of people standing around outside, more than earlier today. This was the first exposure Liz had to this. “Wow! I think I should wait in the car. This is going to be weird.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. "The more the merrier.”

“This looks like in front of our house after you shot Chucky, Mr. Mullins,” said Roger. Security directed our car out of sight of the press and ushered us into a side entrance. Shawn Samuelson was there to greet us. We were shown into a meeting room with a number of men sitting around a table. I nodded to Tonelli and Captain Conners. Oscar Tierney jumped up from his place at the head of the table, ran around and hugged Liz.

“I’m so sorry, Elizabeth,” said Tierney. “It’s just such a terrible loss for everyone, words don’t seem to work.” They embraced for a long moment. “I’m so glad you came today, Elizabeth. I need to get an update from these people who are working on solving this, but I’d like to spend some time with you.” He directed Liz to a seat and shook hands with me. “Good to see you again, Tom. I’m glad you could make it.” And then he shook hands with Roger. “Ahhh yes, it’s the other half of the dynamic duo, young Roger Goody. I’ve seen you on TV, boy.” Roger shook his hand with a big smile on his face. We all sat and then I noted our old friend FBI Special Fucking Agent Herbert Nelson seated on the other side of the room. I nodded and smiled at him.

“Agent Nelson,” I said as sweetly as I could. He nodded back at me but I could see he had his “fuck you” face on. There were introductions all around; another FBI agent, a guy from Homeland Security, two State of California Investigators and some security people from the team. Altogether, a group of about 15 people were in the room.

Not surprisingly with the size of his ego, it was Nelson who spoke first. “Before we get started, Mr. Tierney, I want to bring up that since we’re all here to discuss progress on the case of Tony Reilly’s murder last night, I’m going to have to question the appropriateness of having a possible suspect in the room.” He let that sink in. I knew we were about to rock and roll. “I’m referring to the widow, Mrs. Elizabeth Reilly.”

Did I mention this guy is an asshole? Chief Conners immediately spoke up, “Last night a tactical team found Mrs. Reilly asleep in her bed at the crime scene. She was immediately taken downtown and given a residual test and a blood test. She has been completely cooperative. She was thoroughly questioned about every aspect of the crime and was simply unaware of what had happened or where her husband had been for the last month. We don’t feel Mrs. Reilly was involved in this crime. After further investigation today, checking phone records and email, there has been nothing more that would give us any reason to suspect Mrs. Reilly of any involvement. I don’t see any reason she shouldn’t be involved in an informal discussion of progress.” I could see Liz was about to stand and bolt. She wasn’t crazy about being there, anyway. Before she could stand, I put my hand firmly on her arm, holding her down. I wanted to play.

“The FBI hasn’t had a chance to question Mrs. Reilly yet,” countered Nelson. The implication being the SFPD is incompetent versus the superior questioning skills of the FBI. “There is certainly motive for Mrs. Reilly to want her husband dead. We estimate the size of the estate of Tony Reilly at $25 Million. There was marital discord; the couple was separated at the time of the incident. There is also opportunity for the crime as no one else seems to have known where Mr. Reilly was for the last month and Mrs. Reilly being the only one home. I’ll concede it may not have been Mrs. Reilly who pulled the trigger but certainly with the domestic situation between the couple, there is reason to continue to suspect Mrs. Reilly of involvement in the crime.” Nelson paused and then went in for the kill, “I also question the relationship between Private Investigator Thomas Mullins and Mrs. Reilly. Her first call was to him following the questioning at San Francisco Police Headquarters was suspicious. Why did she call him? Phone records don’t indicate communication between these two people but our investigation has turned up a meeting between the couple on the afternoon of April 21st in a Sonoma Restaurant called the Wine Country Bistro. The couple was seen leaving the restaurant together. My gut feeling is that Elizabeth Reilly and Thomas Mullins may both be involved and I feel it is inappropriate that they be involved in any discussion of the crime.”

What an asshole! I knew he probably got a ration of shit following the silly business of trying to arrest Roger’s Dad for the lab computer break in. The contentious relationship between us went back years. My first thought was that the guy had snapped to bring this up now. I looked over at Oscar Tierney and wondered if I was still going to be working for him an hour from now.

The room was quiet as I started to speak. “Herb, can I call you Herb? After all, we go back what, 5 years? All those times I busted your balls for being incompetent? How you never seemed to actually solve anything but somehow managed to take the credit for everything? The way I treated you with such disrespect every time I ran into you? The practical jokes, teasing you about your social ineptness, I know I’ve been an asshole to you and I’m sorry. I didn’t realize just how much I’ve hurt you that you would come after me like this. Accusing me of an affair with the wife of Tony Reilly and implicating us in his murder? Holy shit, Herb! We’re in unchartered territory here. This really breaks new ground for even you, Special Agent Nelson. I’ve seen some fucked up shit from you, but…wow! Now ordinarily, I could just let this go because I know, its just Herbie being Herbie. But, you’re freaking me out here. And knowing you like I do, you’re about to leak this fucked up fairy tale to the press and ruin the life of an innocent woman and set back this investigation where it may never get solved. Here is what I have to do. I’m going out beyond the fence and wait till every network has a close up of my face and announce that an FBI Special Agent, Herbert Nelson, a man with a personal grudge against me has concocted a story of an affair between the wife of Tony Reilly and myself and has gone as far as implicating us in his murder. All this despite the fact that he doesn’t have a shred of evidence. I’m going to make a recommendation that given the importance of this case that the Federal Bureau of Investigation immediately re-examine the personnel assigned to this case in order that we can move forward and find the people responsible for the death of Tony Reilly. So… my question to you Herbie, you dumb motherfucker, is do you want to be cleaning urinals in the Fargo office by the end of the week or do you want to try and figure out who killed Tony Reilly?”

Chapter 13

The meeting turned around after the little shitstorm between Nelson and me. All the law enforcement agencies had input and there was no evidence or any progress to speak of. No one knew where Tony Reilly had been for the last month. There were no leads on the terror implications of the killing. San Francisco and the League were working on a reward for information leading to solving the crime which would be announced. What it came down to was despite a tremendous amount of investigative manpower, no one had anything.

After the meeting, Oscar Tierney brought Nelson and the other FBI Agent who turned out to be his new superior back to his office for a meeting with the three of us. Oscar read Nelson the riot act. He promised a call to the Director of the FBI. He warned him that if he heard of anything in the press about Elizabeth and my involvement in the killing, he would join me in denouncing the FBI as ridiculous. Nelson mumbled something about having to run down every lead, but Tierney stopped him. “You think long and hard before you go public with that bullshit Agent Nelson,” and then threw them out of his office. That left the two of us sitting there alone.

“I certainly hope you two didn’t kill Tony.” He grinned at me.

“He’s an idiot, Mr. Tierney.” We sat there in silence for a minute.

“What do you suggest? I have no confidence that anyone in that meeting is going to figure this out,” said Tierney.

“I’m not sure about the terror angle and that seems to be where everyone is heading. I think you have to figure out where Tony was for last month and who knew it. I think I’d start with his friends and teammates. Someone knows something about where he’s been. I’d like to talk to his friends on the team.”

Tierney called his secretary on the intercom and said, “Susie get me the contact list for the team. He turned back to me, “Start with Cochran, Isackson and Benson. Also, touch base with Coach Warren.” The center, the quarterback and the star middle linebacker were probably a good place to start. “I’ll call them and tell them you’ll be over to see them tonight. They all live in the area. Charlie Warren should be in his office waiting for you.” I took the list and told Tierney I would keep him informed and appreciated his support.

“Mr. Tierney, if this business with me being implicated in the murder heats up, all you need to do is say the word and I’ll end our relationship. I won’t let it become a distraction. There was nothing going on between Liz and me.”

“Tom,” he took my hand and looked me in the eye, “find out who killed Tony Reilly.”

Chapter 14

Head Coach Charlie Warren looked like shit. Roger and I walked in and sat in front of his desk. He held his head up with the elbow and the palm under the chin. His eyes watched but his head didn’t move. “Coach Warren I’m investigating the death of Tony Reilly for the Team.” I then smelled the booze across the desk and concluded that Superbowl Champion Coach Charles Francis Warren, Notre Dame, USMC…was shitfaced.

“What can I do for ywou?” he said. That’s how he said it, ‘ywou’. He was shitfaced.

“Coach, I want to make sure the security of the team is as good as it can be and I would appreciate access to the team and your support.”

He took his head off his palm, straightened up and said, “You know who was the most exciting quarterback, ever?” Didn’t wait for an answer, it was a rhetorical question. “Fran Tarkington.” That’s all he said. He put his head back on his elbow.

Roger goes Wiki on Tarkington. “The Mad Scrambler, Tarkington led the Minnesota Vikings to three Superbowl appearances. He started out in Minnesota. He was traded to the New York Giants and then went back to the Vikings. He’s 6th on the all time passing list with 47,000 yards and 4th on the list with 342 career touchdowns. He was a good one.”

Warren looked at Roger, “How do you know about him?”

“I’m a football fan,” said Roger.

“Yea, I used to love to watch Scramblin Fran,” said Warren.

“What do you think Tony Reilly’s legacy will be, Coach?” I asked.

He thought about it for a minute. “Probably the best single season a quarterback ever had.” He shook his head, “What a tragedy. I can’t remember a sadder day. I loved that kid.”

I saw we weren’t going to get much out of Charlie Warren today. We said our goodbyes and went looking for Liz. She was already in the car waiting for us. Roger opened his computer. Liz was on her cell. I gave our driver the address for Jerry Cochran’s house and we took off. “What’s going on, Roge?”

“Celebrities getting armed, buying guns,” said Roger, “other than that, just a lot of speculation.”

Liz closed her cell and sighed, “The coroner doesn’t expect to release the body till Sunday. They’re talking about holding the services at Grace Cathedral next week some time. Rosenbloom’s office is going to handle the details. The Team is involved too.

I asked her, “What do you want to do, now? We’re going over to see Jerry Cochran to see if he can fill us in on what Tony might have been up to for the last month. You want to stay with us?”

“Jerry and Penny Cochran are my two favorite people in the world. I’d love to see them,” she said. “I don’t think Jerry knows much or Penny would have told me.”

Jerry Cochran lived 10 minutes away in Sunnyvale. We rang the doorbell and the whole family answered the door. Jerry stood holding a baby and a two year old stood at his mother’s knee. Penny Cochran immediately burst into tears hugging Liz while Jerry welcomed Roger and me into the house. Cochran was big. Six feet four, handsome, well spoken, he was a Media Studies major out of USC. He was often on TV and radio as a Team spokesman. You just knew he had a future in broadcasting. After Penny, it was Jerry’s turn to hug Liz. “I loved him, Elizabeth,” he said. “I’ve never been so torn up about losing anyone before,” he said and started to cry, “sorry,” turning away and wiping away tears. “I’ve been a mess all day.”

“You guys were close, Jerry, it has to hurt,” Liz said as he held him in her arms, the baby between them. “Oh my God, this baby is cute,” she said taking the baby from Jerry’s arms. Liz knelt down to the toddler and said, “your sister is very beautiful, JJ.”

“She has a vagina,” said JJ. We all laughed. Leave it to a kid to sum things up.

Cochran, Roger and I left the woman and children in the kitchen and went into a den. “Man, what a day,” he said shaking his head. “This really, really sucks,” and wiped a tear away.

“What’s going on with the team?” I asked him.

“I would say, we’re stunned,” he said. “In this league, you get used to seeing people come and go, but not die! I couldn’t even talk to the press. What is there to say? The leader of the team and my good friend is gone. Someone murdered him? I can’t get my head around it.”

“I’m sorry for your loss man,” was all I could think of to say.

He went around the small bar and pulled out a beer handed one to me and a Coke to Roger. “I guess all there is left to do is to get drunk,” he said shaking his head.

“Jerry, let me ask you something,” I said. “You guys were friends; do you have any idea what Tony was up to for the last month?”

“I don’t, Tom. He was pissed off about the contract and he said he was going to get away for a few weeks. I thought it was a good idea. I think he needed a change of scenery. I’ll tell you this, something was really bothering him after the Championship. I think he was more upset about Elizabeth than the contract bullshit. He should have been the happiest guy in the world but here he was moping around like a sick sow. I didn’t understand it, the whole separation from Elizabeth thing. I asked him, what’s wrong with you, how could you leave her?”

“What did he say?”

“He said they were having some issues but I knew they weren’t. Penny talks to Elizabeth. He was having issues and he wasn’t talking about it and he wasn’t himself.” He crushed the beer can, got himself another, popped it open and said, “it was like he was depressed or something. Anyway, one day he bugs out, we don’t hear anything from him for a month and this morning he turns up in his driveway murdered. What the fuck?” No one said anything. The three of us just sat. We could hear the kids in the other room.

“What are the prospects for the Team this year?” I asked.

“Beats the shit out of me after today. Tony got us there last year. I don’t have a lot of confidence in Isackson. It’s tough enough without this kind of a distraction.” He thought about it for a moment. “Maybe it’ll be motivation. Doesn’t feel like it today.”

“I’m going over to see Isackson tonight,” I said.

“Don’t tell him what I said. Not my best day,” Cochran said.

“I’m thinking Tony would have wanted you guys to suck it up and kick some ass,” I said. I handed him my business card and told him to get in touch if he heard anything. The girls were in the kitchen. Each had a child in their arms. I said, “We need to push on, I’d like to talk to Paul Isackson.”

Penny and Liz looked at each other. Penny said, “Say hello to Lydia for me.”

Liz grimaced and said, “I’ll wait in the car.” The girls laughed. I had no idea what was going on there. Everyone said their goodbyes with promises to meet up in a few days. I told Jerry I would probably see him around the Team offices until this thing got solved.

Once again we were on the road. Roger on the computer. Liz staring out the window. We took 101 to Menlo Park. Houses in this area were very expensive. We pulled up in front of a big house on a quiet street. Liz said, “I’ll wait in the car.”

“You were serious back there,” I said.

“Yes, I’m not a big fan of Lydia Isackson,” she said.

“Okay. We’ll try and make this quick.”

“Take your time, I could use a few winks,” she said as she stretched on the long cabin seat. Roger and I went up to the front door.

A Team security guard who I recognized from yesterday came out of the dark and said, “Good evening Mr. Mullins, Mr. Isackson is expecting you.” I thanked him and rang the doorbell. It was answered by the most drop dead beautiful blond I think I’ve ever seen.

“I’m Lydia Isackson, please come in.” I was a little overwhelmed to be honest. She shook hands with both of us. “I saw you on TV, Roger. You were great.” Even unflappable Roger Goody was tongue tied. “Come this way, Paul is watching baseball.” The house was right out of Architectural Digest. Every room was perfect.

“You have a beautiful house, Mrs. Isackson”

“Please call me Lydia and thank you, Tom. Paul told me you were working with the team on the murder. It’s such a shock,” she said, as we walked into the den where Paul Isackson sat watching a baseball game on a huge LCD screen.

“I’ll say it was a shock,” said Paul. “We went to bed last night thinking we were going to Miami and woke up this morning and found out we were staying here.” He stood and shook hands with Roger and me. “So how’s it going, did you guys solve it yet?”

“At this point, the most important thing is just making sure the team is secure,” I said. “That’s our first priority.”

“Well, with security outside and an arsenal inside, we feel secure,” said Isackson. Lydia sat next to her husband. They were an attractive couple. “I’ve been a hunter and a gun collector all my life, so heaven help the jihad motherfucker that tries coming in after me and my family, right Babe?” he asked his wife. She smiled and put a hand on his leg and he looked back at the baseball game on the huge LCD screen.

“How is Elizabeth doing, Tom?” she asked. “I feel so bad for her. I’d bet anything Tony and her were going to get back together. I’ll bet that’s why he was there last night.”

“She has been very upset,” I said. “This has been a big shock for her. She’s going through the grieving process.”

“We were very close. I just feel terrible about all this,” Lydia said. “What are the plans for the services?”

“That’s really still up in the air. They haven’t even released the body,” I said. “I wanted to ask you, Paul, if you may have heard where Tony has been for the last month?”

“I really didn’t hear a thing,” he said. “I have a private trainer so wasn’t around the offices much. We were back in Utah before training camp started. I wasn’t talking to any of the rest of the team. All I can do is my job. My job is to be in shape and get ready to lead a team with my God given talents. We’ve been praying a lot on this contract situation, and I can’t help but see the hand of God in how this worked out.” I was stunned by the last remark and couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Well, I hope it works out for you and the Team and best of luck on the upcoming season,” I said and stood up to go.

He and his wife stood and he said, “Thank you and I’ll pray you find the murderer quickly so we can all get back to football.”

“I’ll show you to the door,” said Lydia. “Please give my condolences to Elizabeth if you see her. She’s in our hearts and prayers.”

“I will,” I said, “and thank you for your time.”

When we got to the car, Roger said, “She was really beautiful.”

“And he’s a fucking idiot,” I said.

“Well that pretty much summarizes things,” Elizabeth said.

“He thinks it’s the hand of God that had a part in Tony’s death. God didn’t want him to go to Miami,” I said.

“What did you think of her, Tom?” Liz asked.

“The beautiful, doting wife. She said you and she were close and wanted me to pass on her condolences if I saw you.”

“We were close?” Liz said. Were is the operative word here. We saw them socially a couple of times and I sat with her during the games at the beginning of the season. We went to a couple of charity functions together. As I got to know her, I started to see what a back stabbing, nasty person she was. She rarely had something good to say about anyone. She was just mean. By the time of that fourth game, when Paul, then Jeff was injured, I was dreading sitting by her at the games.” She sat looking out the window as the car started to move. We had one more stop tonight.

“You okay Liz?” I asked. “I want to go see Matt Benson and then we’ll call it a night.” She nodded her head and continued to stare out the window. The silent treatment; I knew the silent treatment. The silent treatment usually meant one thing when it came to me and women. I had fucked up somehow. “Anything new, Roger?” I asked as he typed away on his computer.

“They may be close to finding Higgs Boson.”

I looked over at Liz, “Higgs Boson?” She shook her head. “Third baseman for the Devil Rays?” I asked.

Roger laughed. “Higgs Boson is the ‘God Particle’ thought to be critical to forming the cosmos after the Big Bang. Higgs Boson has only been theoretical up to now, but they’ve been making big jumps forward in the science at the LHC.”

“The LHC?”

“The Large Hadron Collider project in Geneva. It’s a 15 mile looped tunnel that creates mini-Big Bangs by smashing together particles. It’s only operating at half speed now because it’s new, but in the next few years as they begin operating it faster, at conditions that recreate the Big Bang, the scientists are pretty sure they’re going to find it. You have to look for the Higgs in the low mass region where many people think the Riggs is.”

“Yea, I don’t think it’s there,” I said.

“Why not?” asked Roger.

“I think it’s in Milpitas.”

Roger ignored me. “They think they have just detected the Top Quark-a massive, short lived particle. The Higgs is a theoretical energy particle. This is exciting stuff, Mr. Mullins. The more they raise the energy, the closer they get to the conditions of the Big Bang. The more likely they are to find the Higgs.”

“And why do we want to find this, Roge?”

“Because then we’ll know how the cosmos was formed 10 billion years ago after the Big Bang. The Higgs gave mass to the disparate matter spawned at that time.”

I thought about it for a moment. “What is the practical application of knowing this stuff?”

“What’s the practical application of knowing why an apple falls from a tree? It furthers our knowledge of all life to know how and why we got here and the principles in which the world operates.” He looked at me with the sarcastic look worthy of the dumbass I am. “And, Anthony Reilly received a speeding ticket in Los Gatos a month ago,” he said, “a 95 in a 45.”

“Find out who gave it to him,” I said. “Maybe he told the cop where he was going to be for the next month.”

I looked at Liz still staring out the window. I picked up the intercom and spoke to the driver, “Eddie, coffee, Starbucks or something.” Jesus quickly found a place and I handed Roger money and told him to get coffee for us. When the Roger closed the door and walked off, I slipped beside Liz and said, “Something I did?” She looked at me for a moment, smiled and rose up and straddled me. Facing me now, she took my head in her hands and kissed me hard in a long lingering kiss. It almost hurt it was so hard. She put her hand inside my shirt and thrust her tongue down my throat. Then after playing for awhile as she had me pinned into the seat, she abruptly stopped and sat back down next to me again as Roger opened the door and got back in with a bag of food.

Liz was staring out the window again. As we started to drive off, she said in a quiet voice, “I think I know who killed Tony.”

Chapter 15

That fourth game of the season. The day that Baltimore’s Dometrius Daniels, alias Dominent D, alias Mr. D, alias DD, came to town. Three hundred and five pounds of mean speed and muscle. You can make an argument that he is the best player in football. He is certainly the dominant defensive football player in football. With fourteen sacks of the quarterback last year, he’s a player that you have to know where he is, all the time. He has to be double teamed on every play.

On the Thursday prior to the Baltimore game, Jeffery Chang, the San Francisco Pro bowl left tackle, pulled his hamstring. Hamstring is that big muscle in the back of the thigh. Chang limped off the field and in stepped rookie Clarence Pierce to take Chang’s position in practice. Clarence Pierce was a 325 pound fourth round draft pick out of Nebraska. A likable young man, he is exactly what he appears to be: a big old farm boy. Someday, Clarence may become a good lineman, but he was not prepared to take on the best defensive player in football that Sunday.

The left tackle on the offensive line is charged with protecting the quarterback’s blind side. Right handed quarterbacks turn to their right to throw the ball. The right defensive end, lined up against the left offensive tackle has an advantage because he’s often charging to the quarterback, unseen by him or not seen till the last second. DD Daniels has made a living making crushing sacks on quarterbacks, who never saw him coming. If Daniels doesn’t sack the quarterback, he’s disrupting plays with his defensive pressure.

When DD heard that the San Francisco guard was on the injury report, he wasted no time finding out all about Chang’s replacement and was overjoyed to hear that it was a rookie. DD would study all the information he could find on his opponent including all his personal family history, because there was an aspect of DD’s game that no one could measure up; that was talking shit. He was absolutely relentless. He would use the opponent’s wife, mother or grandmother and begin as soon as the game started to describe to his opponent explicit recent sexual encounter he had with that person. Usually, this involved an oral or anal rape of that person in which the person begs for more. “You’ll never guess where I was the day before yesterday, Clarence. I was in your Mama’s ass. I was in there most of the morning while your Daddy was out to work. You know what Clarence? You’re Mama doesn’t like Mr. D’s big black dick in her ass. Oh no, she LOVES Mr. D’s big black dick in her ass. I love when a woman knows what she wants. She wanted Mr. D’s big black dick so far up her…..”

So along with a constant stream of derision directed at his mother, Clarence Pierce was being beaten on every play. DD was being double teamed with a full back. This tactic worked for the first few sets of downs in which San Francisco went nowhere. They punted on their first three possessions and had a total of minus 26 yards. Clarence had been caught holding twice already and the first quarter wasn’t over. DD was schooling him.

On their fourth possession, San Francisco tried a screen play, to DD’s side. DD figured this was probably coming, when he felt the boy’s lack of effort against him, thought screen, retreated a few steps and jumped up, tipping the pass up into the air and then down into his hands. He ran the ball back 20 yards and three plays later, Baltimore found the end zone.

As the second quarter began, San Francisco still had no answer for DD. He was in the backfield on every running play and had pressure on the quarterback on every pass attempt. At one point, Clarence Pierce blocked out DD long enough for the team to complete a crossing route for a first down, their first of the day. DD congratulated Clarence. That was excellent footwork Clarence. “Your mother is going to be very pleased and believe me Clarence, I know when your mother is pleased. It takes work. Just like you showed me there. You used leverage and technique. You know what? That’s what I used when I was fucking your Mama’s ass, leverage and technique.”

On the next play, DD used a swimming move to flow by Clarence Pierce. The San Francisco full back was just able to nudge DD enough on the double team for DD’s helmet to hit the quarterback in the lower leg. Paul Isackson’s tibia snapped like a match stick. A pin would have to be inserted to hold the bone together. The next day Isackson would be put on Injured Reserve which officially put him out for the season. It had been a clean hit. DD had actually been blocked into the lower leg. A cart hauled Isackson off the field. He was writhing in pain. DD Daniels stood impassionately with his hands on his hips staring at the scene of medical people around the injured quarterback. The crowd was hushed. This looked like the end of the season for San Francisco.

DD Daniels had two sacks, four tackles, intercepted a pass, pressured the quarterback half a dozen times and had now taken out the QB for the season and there was still eight minutes to play in the second quarter. Daniels was having a career game but he wasn’t done yet. The veteran Kyle Schular came out to replace Isackson. He was a ten year veteran who had played with five teams. He had once led Buffalo to the playoffs where they had been eliminated in the first round. He had a strong arm but was slow and in his first year with the San Francisco.

On Schular’s first play, DD Brown hit him as he was throwing. The interception was run back for a touchdown. Baltimore up 14. On third and 14 on the next possession, San Francisco went with a screen pass to the right side. DD Daniels had come up the middle on a switch and untouched, he charged into Schular, picking him up and driving him into the turf, breaking his collar bone and leaving him unconscious. Roughing the passer and unsportsmanlike conduct got an outraged DD Daniels thrown out of the game. The following fight on the field between the two teams resulted in offsetting unsportsmanlike conduct penalties. You don’t often see the benches empty in a full out brawl in football. Including Daniels, five players were thrown out of the game, two from each team. The normally well behaved crowd was in a frenzy. They began throwing everything not tied down onto the Baltimore bench. Almost 20 minutes went by before things were sorted out and the final five minutes of the first half could be played.

The third string San Francisco quarterback had begun to warm up on the sideline as soon as Schuler went down. He hadn’t taken part in the brawl. He just calmly started throwing the ball on the side lines. For the first time in his three year NFL career, Tony Reilly stepped on to the field in a real game. His team was down 14 against the best defensive team in football, at the time. He was ready.

First and 10 at his 46 yard line with 4 minutes to go in the half. The San Francisco went off tackle for a couple. Reilly then hit his tight end for 17 yards and a first down. He then sent his receivers long and took off when they were covered, picking up 12. Having Reilly run was pretty risky considering his backup at this point was a wide receiver who had last played QB in high school. The Team were out of quarterbacks. First and 10, 20 yard line San Francisco had two running plays for five yards. Reilly found an open wide receiver in the end zone, who dropped the ball. They kicked a field goal and that’s how the half ended.

Both injured quarterbacks were on the way to the hospital. Emotions were high in the locker room. Tony Reilly met with the offensive coordinator and the coach. The plan for the second half was to play conservative and pass when they had to and try and grind out a respectable game. Reilly wasn’t having any of that. He adamantly insisted they had to go no huddle with a spread offense to have any chance. No huddle keeps the defense in their defensive look longer, allowing the QB to get a better look at what they’re doing. The defensive players also have to stay in their stance longer tiring them out. The defense can still change at the last second, but it’s harder. The quarterback is often calling plays at the line at the last minute. The play is often a run or pass option with the quarterback having the authority to change the play after reading the defense. The quarterback has to be a great decision maker and be able to read the defense to make it work.

San Francisco rarely ran no-huddle, but Tony Reilly had often ran no- huddle in practice simulating other team offenses for the Team defense to practice against. The coaching staff reluctantly agreed to come out in the no-huddle and see what happens. Reilly also made a request for Terrence Brown to play in the slot receiver position. Reilly and Brown had spent a lot of time together in practice and Reilly felt comfortable throwing to him. The short meeting broke and the Coach Charlie Warren went out to address the team. He gave a simple speech to his team. No clichés; no win one for the Gipper; “We’re down to a team that has beaten us up in the first half. I need professionals with pride out there in the second half. Play with passion but play the way I know each and every one of you can. Defense, I need you to hold this team because Offense, Tony Reilly is going to win this one for us.”

Baltimore took the opening kickoff and with the help of a holding call and a questionable pass interference call, managed to get a long field goal. San Francisco got the ball back in the second half down 17-3. They came out in a spread, no huddle, shotgun formation which they hadn’t shown all year and really hadn’t practiced much. Reilly walked up and down the line shouting signals and at the last second snapped the ball and hit a wide receiver on a crossing route. They stayed in the no huddle and used a sweep for 7 yards. On second and three, he hit Terrence Brown for 27. They pounded the middle when the linebackers backed off and on 3rd and 3 on his 41, hit wideout Jimmy Oliva for a touchdown when he saw him in single coverage. Back in the game.

The Team Defense intercepted a pass for their first turnover of the game and the offense again came out in the no huddle. Reading the defense, shouting Kill Kill to change the play at the line to take whatever the Baltimore was showing them. On a 2nd and eight with his receivers covered, Reilly took off for 26 yards, showing his speed. The Baltimore defense were on their heels when he hit his Tight End in the end zone to tie the score. Tied up and the stadium was rocking.

Baltimore went three and out and punted. Reilly marched the Team down field and just before the end of the quarter, Reilly went in on a keeper and stuffed the football over the crossbar at the end of the run and was mobbed by teammates. 21 points in the third quarter. Baltimore hadn’t allowed 21 total points to an opponent in their four games. The fourth quarter was more of the same. The San Francisco defense dug in. The offense putting up ten more points by the time the game ended 34-20. This was against a team without their best player in DD Daniels, but this was done with the third string quarterback. Reilly had no interceptions, 270 yards passing, three touchdown passes and had scored one himself. In the locker room, the coach told his team, “Goddamn it, I told you Tony Reilly was going to win this one for us,” and handed him the game ball.”

Reilly said holding up the ball, “This isn’t mine, this is ours.” Tony Reilly had won his first game.

Chapter 16

“Well?” I said to Liz. Roger and I were both staring at her.

“Well is a deep subject,” she said.

“Who killed Tony, Liz?”

“I don’t want to say,” she said.

“Why not?”

“Because,” she said. I looked at Roger.

“Why won’t she tell us,” I asked him.

“She’s afraid,” said Roger. “You know what, Liz? Mr. Mullins is almost always wrong when he makes guesses.

“I’m never wrong,” I said.

“I’d say he’s right about….2% of the time.”

“I’m right about 85% of the time,” I said.

We rolled to a stop in front of what I assumed was Matt Benson’s house and sat there looking at each other. “Are you afraid of something, Liz?” I asked. She didn’t say anything. She just looked at me.

Finally she said, “It’s bad. It’s very bad.”

“Bad,” I said. She nodded her head and looked out the window.

“And I haven’t finished thinking about it.” I looked at Roger and shrugged my shoulders.

“Let’s go see Matt,” she said. “I love that guy.”

I shrugged my shoulders again and said, “Let’s go see Matt.” We got out and went to the door. I didn’t see any security around. Benson answered the door himself and immediately took Liz into his massive arms. Up close, these football players were big. Matt was a first round draft pick out of Texas. As a middle linebacker, he anchored and led the defensive team. The Team defense had become dominant last year and he was definitely the star.

“I’m so sorry about Tony, Liz,” Benson said. Roger and I shook hands with him and he led us into his living room. A beautiful woman stood there to meet us. Holy shit, these football players get the women! Matt introduced her as his friend Keisha. She offered her condolences to Liz and offered to get refreshments. We declined and we all sat down as Keisha left us.

“What happened to Jade?” Liz asked Matt.

“I upgraded,” he said.

“You do a lot of upgrading,” she said.

“Elizabeth, I’m so bummed about Tony,” obviously wanting to get out of that discussion. “He was more than just a friend. I would have done anything for that guy.”

“He thought the world of you, Matt.”

Benson looked at us, “I know about you guys. Saw you on Leno young man,” he said to Roger.

“I’ve seen you on TV too, Mr. Benson,” said Roger.

“Matt, Oscar Tierney suggested I speak with you as one of the leaders of the team. He’s hired me to look after the team’s interests, be a liaison for the investigation with the authorities and the team and NFL. We were wondering if you could share anything about what Tony may have been up to the last month. He seems to have fallen off everyone’s radar.”

Benson stretched in his chair. “A liaison, huh?” he said. “How long have you known Tierney?”

“Met him today,” I said.

“Here is a tip in dealing with Tierney. If his lips are moving, he’s lying. He is a two-faced motherfucker.”

“I’ve heard that before,” said Liz.

Benson continued, “For all the love he professes for his players, he makes decisions for one reason and one reason only. How will this benefit me? He is the most soulless person I have ever met.”

Shrugging my shoulders, “It’s a business,” I said.

“It is, Tom,” said Benson, “and we’re all just cattle to him. Just make sure your agreement is set in stone because he’ll find some way to fuck you. He’s very consistent.”

A thought struck me, “You think he had something to do with Tony’s death?” I asked.

Benson looked at me with no expression on his face. “If it benefited him in some way.”

“You’re a little bitter, I take it.”

“I’ve just seen the shit he’s pulled. I got no use for him as a human being.”

I could see this was going nowhere so I changed the subject. “You and Tony were close?”

“Tony and I were close. I respected him more than any player on the team. Tony Reilly had a great head for football. He knew more about football than anyone on the field. I would have been very surprised if he didn’t end up as a head coach someday.” Benson stretched and put his hands behind his head. “We both came in as rookies together. I was a number one draft pick. I was the anointed one, the middle linebacker that was going to run the defense. Tony was undrafted and if he hadn’t gone to Cal, he probably wouldn’t have been playing. Tony’s job was to run the scout team against the defense. Since he saw so much of the defense, he became a student of it. He was a very positive guy and he worked both sides of the ball in practice, encouraging the defensive and the offensive players. Pointing out mistakes and telling someone how to improve but never in a critical manner. That’s a unique talent and soon everyone knew that Tony was someone special. He would often go through me to relay a message to a player. This was supposed to be the job of the defensive coaches and they started out telling Tony to mind his own business, just run the offense, but he kept doing it and after awhile they just left him alone because it was a positive influence. It was on me, anyway. Here was this rookie QB telling me what to do, but I could see that he was right most of the time. So, I listened to him. During games, he’d speak to me a few times with pointers and encouragement. I got so I needed to hear what he had to say. That is a unique relationship because half the time I know the coaches are full of shit.”

“We worked out together after the season ended when I was around. I couldn’t believe it when he told me you guys had split up, Elizabeth. I asked what happened but he didn’t have much to say. Then the contract negotiations soured and he stopped coming around the training facility. I didn’t see him for a few weeks and then one night he came over for a beer and said he was pissed off, life sucked and he wanted to get away.”

“Do you know where he went?” I asked.

Benson said slowly, “Yea, I do…he went to Mexico.”

“There is no record of him leaving the country.”

“Didn’t need one. He took my boat. He didn’t have a passport. Sailed down Baja.” I looked around at Roger and Liz. We were stunned.

“Why haven’t you said anything, Matt? Everyone’s been trying to figure out where he’s been for the last month. It could be important in the investigation.”

“Well, for one thing, no one asked me and I didn’t know they were looking for him. It gets me involved in this and I don’t know much more than he left and then he came back. I didn’t have any contact with him during that time.”

“I didn’t know Tony could sail a boat,” said Liz.

“Yea, he sailed Lasers in the Bay when he was a kid. I teamed him with a guy who knows the boat and Mexico. Tony was crew. I’m sure he learned how to sail if he was on it for a month. This is a 48 foot boat. I used to live on it when I was visiting my parents in San Diego. You could sail this thing around the world. You should find Jose and ask him what they were up to for the last month.”

“Can’t you just call him,” I asked.

“He’s elusive. I get in touch with him through the Marina. He’s in and out. I don’t even know if he’s legal. That’s how he makes a living. Moving boats around for people, crewing on boats. Great guy!”

“I need to get a hold of him,” I said.

“I can talk to the guys at the Marina, let them know you want to speak to him.”

“I want to speak to him now.”

“He’s not going to want to talk to the cops.”

“Do me a favor, call the guys at the Marina and tell them you need to find Jose and you got some cash for him to talk to me. Did the Marina guys see Tony coming and going?”

“I don’t know, maybe, depends on what time of day it was. You can get in just knowing the combination. I don’t know if anyone is working at night. There is probably some security people.”

I looked at Liz and Roger. “I guess we’re going sailing.”

Chapter 17

When we got back in the car. Roger got up on his knees and whispered something in Liz’s ear.

“It’s a secret,” she said aloud. Roger again whispered in her ear for a long time. When he was done, he sat looking at her with pleading eyes. She leaned over and whispered in his ear.

“Lydia Isackson?” Roger said aloud. Liz hit him on the shoulder.

“You said you wouldn’t tell!” she said.

“You can’t trust him, he’s a liar,” I said. “Lydia Isackson?”

“Now, I know, you are a little rat, Roger.”

“Why her?” I said.

Liz sat staring ahead with a frown on her face. “I haven’t got a good reason, just that she’s a sociopath and always gets her way. I don’t think Miami was her way. And I think she might have been having an affair with Tony.” She then started to cry.

Roger and I looked at each other. “This is going to get messy,” I said. “What do you know for a fact, Liz?”

“Other than she’s a sociopath, nothing, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Why do you think she was having an affair with Tony?”

“She was fucking everyone else, she was probably fucking Tony too.”

“You want to back up and tell me a little more about Lydia Isackson, Liz?”

Lydia McCormack Isackson was a runner-up for Miss Utah. A Mormon, she was the oldest child in a big family. She went to the University of Utah and was the head cheerleader where she met Paul Isackson. An English major, she was smart and beautiful. The camera would often show her during football games. She was active in many charities and was a well known face in the Bay Area.

“What went on between you and Lydia, Liz?” I asked.

“We got to know each other through the team. They have various get togethers for the families. I didn’t know anyone and she was fun to be around. When the games started she asked me to sit by her and I got to know her other friends. I started to realize that I had been invited into her clique. It was like high school all over again only I had been brought into the mean girls. Did you ever see that movie?”

“Yes, I know what you’re talking about.”

“I went along on some charity events she was a part of. Lydia stays very busy with her social life and charities. She’s very outgoing. Paul, is the complete opposite. Lydia likes to have her clique around her, her camp followers. So, I got to know her and the more I got to know her, the more I realized what an asshole she was. She didn’t care about the charities or even football. She just cares about Lydia. She hates her husband. She thinks he’s an idiot. She has as little to do with him as she can. As long as Paul gets laid, he’s happy. So she’s out most nights doing her thing. Smiling in the stands for the camera during the game. I quickly got to the point where I couldn’t stand her. One day I was talking to Penny Cochran and the topic of Lydia came up. I started saying she wasn’t a very nice person and Penny unloads. Turns out most of the team wives who know her, hate her. She’s a jerk but because of who she is, she gets away with it.”

“Okay, but a jerk capable of murder?” I asked.

“Capable of anything. I don’t know, Tom. I was thinking out loud. It just occurred to me. I’m sorry I said it.”

I looked at Roger. “See what you can find out. We can’t let this get out that we’re even thinking about this. Holy shit, what a mess it would be if she did it. Do you think you’re capable of being discreet, Roger?”

“Discreet is my middle name,” said Roger.

“Yea, right.”

Chapter 18

I called Tierney and told him we had a lead on Tony and wanted to check it out in San Diego. In 45 minutes he had a private jet waiting for us at the San Jose Airport. We flew into San Diego and got a cab to the Marina where Benson had his boat. No one around at 1:30 AM. I had the combination into the Marina and the keys to Benson’s boat. I couldn’t see any security but there were cameras around. Benson’s boat was spectacular. It could easily sleep 6. We gave Liz the Captain’s cabin and Roger and I hit some crew bunks for the night.

Up at 8 AM to coffee and donuts. Liz had been up early and gone on a food run. I went up on deck to see what I could see. The Marina was getting busy on a Saturday morning. Liz and I sat together drinking our coffee.

“You sleep okay?” I asked her.

“I would have slept better with you beside me,” she said.

“Then there wouldn’t have been much sleep,” I said. She laughed and snuggled up close to me. “Better be careful. I don’t want us on the front page of People Magazine.”

“I can see someone at the office, want to go talk to them?” she asked. We walked to the open air office counter that had been closed up tight last night. A guy sat behind the counter working on a computer.

“Good morning,” he said.

“I’m Tom Mullins. We’re friends of Matt Benson. I’m a private investigator looking into the death of Tony Reilly. The guy behind the computer got up and brought us over to a table under an umbrella while the other guy was helping a customer.

“Yea, he left a message you would be in. He said you were looking for Jose Padilla. Unfortunately, he’s not around. I can find someone else if you want to take the boat out?”

“I wanted to speak to him. Do you know where I can find him?”

“He left yesterday crewing on a boat heading for Catalina. I don’t think he has a cell phone. Maybe, the owner has a cell phone number for the party that had the boat. I’ll give him a call.

“I’d appreciate that, I said. “Did you see Tony Reilly when he came and took Benson’s boat?”

“No, none of us knew anything about Tony Reilly being here. We saw Padilla getting the boat ready. It was gone a month and was back the other night.”

“You have security at night?”

“A service monitors the cameras and alarms and patrol comes by a few times a night.”

“Did you talk to Padilla since he got back?”

“I saw him and said hello but it was busy and I didn’t get a chance to talk to him. He was off on another charter yesterday. He works pretty steady during the season. He’s in and out. He doesn’t work for us. He’s a freelancer. Hires on as needed. We’ve never had a problem or a complaint about him from a customer. ”

“You think I’m going to be able to find Padilla on Catalina?”

“Yea, they’re probably heading for Avalon. Check with the Harbor Master and see if the Greta Jean is anchored there. Meanwhile I’ll try and come up with a cell phone or a number for the boat. Padilla also works with a service that places crew. You can try them also.”

“How can I get to Avalon today?”

“Well, there are high speed ferries or regular flights. You could hire a charter. You can hire a chopper if you’re looking for a boat around Catalina, but I would try Avalon first. Who knows, you may get lucky. I’ve got a list of numbers you can call to arrange something.”

We were in the air an hour later.

Chapter 19

Padilla wasn’t hard to find. The boat was in Avalon harbor and we got a water taxi to go out to it after we landed. There was a couple on board that told us Padilla was with them but he was onshore. “Try the bars, he likes to drink,” they told us. We found him sitting at a bar in about 15 minutes, the crackerjack detectives that we are. There aren’t that many bars in town. I bought Jose a drink, got one ourselves and asked him to sit down and talk with us.

“Tony Reilly, he a good man, my friend,” said Padilla in heavily accented English. “He play American football. He very good.”

“Not any more Jose,” I said. “Someone shot and killed him two days ago.”

“Oh my God!” Padilla leans over with a string of Spanish, blessing himself a number of times. He started crying. I reach over putting my hand on his arm. People in the bar were looking at us.

When he begins to collect himself, I point at Liz and say, “This is his wife, and we are trying to find who did it.” He comes around the table and gives Liz a hug and says how sorry he is.

“I spend a month with him. Oh my God, I don’t believe it.” He said, he got to know him very well and he became his friend. Liz speaks to him in Spanish which surprised me. The conversation goes to Spanish and Liz introduces Roger who also begins talking to him in Spanish. I’m lost with nothing more than my basic high school “kitchen” Spanish. I let Liz and Roger get the story from Padilla. I nod at Roger and point at Padilla indicating I want him to get the story. I walk outside onto a deck overlooking the magnificent Avalon harbor. It’s a gorgeous day. I was surprised to see I have good cell reception and call Tonelli at the SFPD.

“Tommy, how’s it hanging,” Tonelli greets me

“I don’t know, brother, I haven’t had a chance to look.”

“Maybe you should start prioritizing.”

“I should go back with the SFPD so I can relax.”

“Ouch, that’s harsh, man.”

“Have you got anything new? I know you’ve been emailing Roger, I really appreciate your help.”

“No problemo, man, you’re on the team for this one. To address your question, we haven’t been able to prove you or Elizabeth Reilly did it…yet.”

“We covered our tracks.”

“The FBI isn’t talking to us, but I’d be surprised if they had anything. We understand he may have left the country but there is no record of it. I’d say we had very little at this point in the investigation. The terrorist angle is the most we have right now. We’re chasing some leads, but I’m not confident it’s the right direction.”

“Okay, let me fill you in on what we’re doing.” I told Tonelli where we were and what we had learned. Told him we were now in the process of speaking to Padilla and I would update him in a couple of hours.

“Wow,” said Tonelli. “You’ve been busy. That’s interesting. Why didn’t Benson tell us about the boat?”

“You didn’t ask him? Look Eddie, I got something else but it’s a motherfucker.”

“I’m listening.”

“You have to promise me you’ll play this close to the vest.”

“Tom, what do you have?”

“The name Lydia Isackson has come up as a possible suspect.”

“Get the fuck out!”

“I suggest you take a look at her. She was possibly, that’s possibly, having an affair with Reilly. Get her cell phone records. Poke around a little. I don’t know how, but you can’t let this get out. It’s probably nothing, but take a look. I’m not going to mention this to the team. In fact I’m not going to mention this to anyone. Eddie, we could do this ourselves but you have more juice and I trust your discretion. Plus, you owe me one.”

“Why do you think that she’s involved?”

“Elizabeth thinks she’s involved and she was very reluctant to tell us. It’s just a hunch. She knows her well and she just thinks she’s capable of anything. There may be nothing there but you should take a look at her.”

“Why didn’t she tell us when we questioned her?”

“I don’t think it occurred to her, initially. It looked like a terrorist thing, remember? She didn’t have anything specific. She thought Reilly might have been having an affair and she thought it might be Lydia Isackson.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Tonelli says. “If she’s involved then maybe her husband is in it too. Fuck me, this could get messy.”

“Exactly!”

“Hey, I want to talk to this Padilla.”

“He’s elusive. He’s out crewing on boats and doesn’t carry a cell phone but I’ll make sure we can find him again. I’ll have Roger write up the interview and email it to you in a few hours. Eddie, please, discretion on Lydia Isackson?”

I checked in with Velma at the office. Listened for a few minutes as she read me the riot act. Cut her off and tried to listen to a few voice mails. Deleting most of them after I heard who they were from.

I walked back in and sat down. The conversation continued in Spanish among the three of them. Finally, all of them looked at me. “Well, we know where Tony Reilly has been for the last month,” said Roger.

Chapter 20

Tony Reilly showed up at the dock in San Diego late in the evening a month ago. He found the Benson’s boat and Jose while drinking a beer, watching a soccer game on a flat panel TV screen in the wheelhouse. Jose had finished provisioning the boat for a week’s cruise. Tony got a tour of the boat. A 49-foot Hunter complete with Corian countertops and a large galley complete with stove and microwave. The boat’s interior was outfitted with light colored teak woodwork, lots of upholstery, and plenty of headroom. A navigation table and captain’s chart with GPS and radar. Flat panel screen in the saloon bulkhead and a smaller one between the two helm stations. They all tied into the entertainment center. Tony took the spacious owner’s cabin. That left Jose with three others to choose from. The boat’s exterior and deck were all white. It was a long distance cruiser and a magnificent boat.

The men talked of where they might go and do. Tony told Jose that he would like to learn how to sail the boat; he had some skills with smaller boats but didn’t have a clue about something this big. He said he didn’t want to go to tourists spots. He told him he was an American football player like Matt Benson and was lying low during contract negotiations. Jose knew little about American football and had never heard of Tony. Jose asked him if he knew how to surf. Tony said he’d been surfing a few times and enjoyed it but wasn’t very good at it.

“I have two boards on board. I can teach you to sail and surf,” Jose said. “I know some of the best places in the world to go.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Tony. They decided to head down the Baja coast and hit smaller villages and the prime surfing spots, bypassing bigger ports like Roserita Beach and Ensenda. They could always go anchor somewhere and stay at a hotel if that’s the way he wanted to roll.

“Up to you,” Jose told Tony.

The next morning they motored out of San Diego and headed south. After they cleared land, Jose started working with Tony. The two men were quickly working as a team. Favorable winds and calm sea made for ideal sailing conditions. Tony was exhilarated. “I’m getting me one of these, Jose.”

“You like, Tony?”

“I love, Jose.”

They went over all the safety rules of boating. Jose put the boat on auto-pilot and went through every detail of the boat. Showed Tony how to raise and lower sails and where problems were likely to occur. Jose was a pro when it came to teaching boating. Tony was a good student. Jose made some fish tacos for lunch while Tony took the wheel and then Jose gave the boat to Tony while he took a siesta. They arrived in Puerto Balandra later in the afternoon. This was an isolated, unpopulated coastal area with beaches, an interior salt lagoon and a rock formation called “El Hongo”, the mushroom. They took the dingy into shore. Tony went for a five mile run and swim along the eight beaches. Jose found a little shack and settled in for a few beers.

The pattern was established. A day cruising at sea followed by Tony running on shore and long swims. The two men worked their way down the coast. Jose started calling Tony “Captain” after three days. Jose would pick a spot on the map and tell Tony, “Get us there,” and Tony would do it using the sophisticated navigation systems.

They hit Isla Natividad, a small, desolate island, on a perfect day for surfing one of the best beach break barrels in the world. Tony wasn’t a match for Jose, but he got better throughout the day. It was so good, they decided to do it again the next day and then a third day. At the end of the third day, with Tony’s athleticism, he was earning his chops as a surfer with Jose’s encouragement. This island was only accessible by airplane or boat, making it usually uncrowded. There was nothing to do on Isla Natividad, but Tony said he could have stayed a month. It was unusual to hit surf that good so early in the season. Jose convinced him to move on. He needed a little night life.

Punta Abreojos was a legendary right reef break surfing spot. Offshore winds hold up the waves and the water is warm. Local fisherman supplied the fresh fish and lobsters. They would surf the day, cook dinner on the boat and drink beer on the beach at a little bar on the beach at night. They were few people that early in the season and no one recognized Tony. There were a number of senoritas around that Jose fell in love with and he would take for the night. Tony would paddle back to the boat alone. He would be back on the beach in the morning for his usual long run and meet up with Jose for surfing in the afternoon. One morning, Jose was waiting on the beach for Tony. “No run today, we go.”

“What’s going on, Jose?”

“Her Papa want I marry Maria.”

“Yea,” said Tony, “we go.”

They headed off to the very secluded, Isla Magdalena. Mag Bay is the place to go if you want perfect waves and absolutely no crowds. You can only access Magdalena Bay by boat or by plane, no stores on Mag Bay. They found challenging surf, but with the exception of a few shacks, not much else. The next day, they were off to Costa Azul, the bay that holds the best and most famous surf spots in all of Baja Sur: Playa Acapulquito, The Rock and Zippers. The Rock is the outside break between Playa Acapulquito and Zippers. The Rock is a crowded right reef break. The water can get shallow and there are very sharp coral. The Rock was Jose’s surfing home. His surfing buddies were there. Locals have been known to group up on tourists, but not on Tony with Jose along. If you’re good enough, The Rock is the surfing spot on Baja. After two weeks, Tony was good enough and he got better in the challenging waves with pointers from the locals. He also earned their devotion buying cases of beer and Tequila every night. No one recognized him. They thought he was a just another rich American with a boat. The night life was at a locals bar or around a bonfire with Tony often helping a drunk Jose back to the boat. He was out on the beach every morning for long runs followed by a day of surfing.

It wasn’t till almost three weeks since leaving home that a tourist walked up one night at the bar and asked Tony for his autograph. All his new buddies were sitting around. Tony just smiled and signed. The whole group was dumbfounded. Tony and Jose had never mentioned football. The two Aussies still didn’t know who he was, but the half dozen Americans did now. He asked them not to say anything. He was down here on the QT. The next day, someone found a football and Tony was chucking passes on the beach to wide receiver wannabes for hours.

Chapter 21

Following the Baltimore game, the Team had a bye. They had two weeks to prepare for their next opponent, Houston. The team needed to sign a couple of quarterbacks, but with Reilly’s performance, they weren’t looking for a starter. They thought they had their man. Tony’s performance was the talk of football. Is this guy for real? Usually a team is given at least a few days off with an upcoming bye week but with the quarterback changes, that was cut short. Tony was in on Monday morning working with the offensive coordinator. The film from the game showcased his skills. They reworked the offense to take advantage of the skills he had shown during the game. The coaching staff quickly recognized that they may have found that elusive diamond in the rough.

Playing it by the book, when you have a new quarterback on the field, you blitz him. You never let him get comfortable. You show him every kind of defensive trick you have and keep unrelenting pressure on him and that’s what Baltimore had done. But, when you blitz, you take defensive players out of their regular positions and charge the quarterback, leaving players in single coverage often mismatched. Reilly had been running the taxi squad against one of the best defenses in football for the last two seasons. He knew what Baltimore was going to throw at him. Now, he had the first team offense to react against it. He was uniquely prepared to step in and run one of the best offenses in football. By the time the first practice rolled around on Thursday, the team was ready to change its offense, making it more flexible and taking advantage of Reilly’s decision making skills.

Before that first practice, Tony asked for a team meeting without coaches present. With just the players gathered around and Tony began, “I asked for this meeting this morning because I have something to say. Sunday was the most fun I’ve ever had playing football. I didn’t have a great game. You had a great game and I want to thank you for letting me be a part of it. When I walked off that field, I thought of something that I needed to share. Like most of you, I’ve been blessed with some talent that has allowed me to play the game at this level. In Pop Warner, in High School and in College, I was the best player on the team, but I wasn’t always on the best team, go Bruins.” Everyone laughed.

“For the first time in my life, I’m on the best team. Tony paused for a few whoops. “Let me say that again, this is the best team in football. He paused again and this time no one said anything. The best team in football is now 2 and 2. This was a team that was going to be 1 and 3 through the first half of that game, Sunday. We’ve got a lot of work to do. We’ve got the best defense in football and we’re going to work our asses off to be the best offense in football. We are not going to lose another football game. We’ll take one game at a time, but we are not going to lose another football game. We’re not going to do that by not losing football games. We’re going to win football games. We’re going to win games because we’re a better team and we will execute. We execute by being better prepared than the other team. Pushing the guy next to you to be the best player he can be. Dedicating yourself and everyone around you to be the best. Gentleman, you play for the best team in football. Let’s prove it next week. And then we’ll prove it the next week. And then we’ll continue to prove it every week.”

He continues, “We lost two games already this year and I think I know why. We were not prepared. Let me say that again, we were not prepared to win those games. Part of that reason is coaching. We were not prepared to win those games. We were out-coached. It’s easy to assign blame here but, it can’t be put entirely on the backs of the coaching staff. We have players on this team who are showing up to practice, going through the motions but really, they don’t give a shit. We’ve got players that are phoning it in. When was the last time you looked at film of what other teams are doing? When was the last time you suggested a different way of doing things because of what you saw on film from a team we’re not playing next week? Who is taking the extra effort it takes to win? Who is spending extra time in the film room? Who is doing more than required in the weight room? Who is here just collecting a pay check? You can point to the coaching staff and say it’s their responsibility to prepare us, but that isn’t going to help us win ball games. Ultimately, it’s our own individual responsibility to prepare this team to win. We do that by doubling our own prep time to take on next week’s opponent. Make our coaching staff better by being prepared yourself. You have families and girlfriends and drinking buddies and other shit that you’re doing that’s taking away from your prep time. That has to change. I want each and every one of you to make the commitment to do everything that’s necessary to be the best team in football every game. It means getting here early and staying late. It means focusing, prioritizing everything in your life to be part of the best team in football.”

No one said a word. Tony continued, “I’m the weak link here. I know that. But I am the man today, and that is subject to change (a few laughs). My promise to you today is that I will be prepared every game to get us the W. We’re a different team than we were four days ago. I desperately need your help. The help of each and every one of you to be successful and to prove to everyone in the world, we are the best team in football. Will you help me?”

Matt Benson stood up and slowly looked around the room. “Anyone here surprised with Tony’s performance yesterday?” A few hands came up and then Reilly raised his hand, everyone laughed. It became silent again and Benson continued, “Because if you were surprised then you don’t know Tony. He’s been riding me for two seasons. I know Tony. He has the best head for football of any man I’ve ever met. His performance Sunday proved what I already knew, Coaches don’t know shit. They coach scared. Scared to fuck up. Scared to lose the game and lose their job. Tony’s been given an opportunity to run this offense. He will be successful. He has the brains and heart to take this team all the way. I believe you, Tony. This is the best team in football today. You want my help, my man? You didn’t even have to ask. We have something to prove. You’re the guy who is going to prove it to them. Speaking for the rest of the team, we’ll help you, every step of the way.”

In that next game, San Francisco had Houston at home. Houston was a team with a hot offense and looked like a playoff team. San Francisco was up 17 to 7 at half time and the team went on win 28 to 10. They made it look easy. Reilly was made a captain after the game.

Chapter 22

“Tonelli, are you out of your fucking mind?” David Fong, the chief of the San Francisco Police Department Police Chief stared back at Inspector Tonelli, seated next to Captain Conners. “Let me get this straight,” Fong said. You’ve got one dead quarterback’s wife accusing the other quarterback’s wife of murder. No evidence, just a feeling and you want to go after her on that basis.”

“Well,” Tonelli hesitated and cleared his throat, “let’s put it this way, Chief, we’ve done some preliminary checking on her and she is a reputation with some people. I can see why Elisabeth Reilly didn’t think of Lydia Isackson initially, but thought about it and suggested to Mullins we check her out.”

“I know her, Tonelli! I met her at a symphony fundraiser. She’s beautiful, intelligent and one of the nicest human beings I’ve ever met. What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Captain, you met one side of Mrs. Isackson. Lydia Isackson is not liked by the other wives on the team. She is involved with many charities, but has done little except attend functions. She seems to be involved in everything. Many have characterized her as merely a social climber. A number of people have intimated that she’s had a number of affairs. She knows guns and Paul Isackson owns a number of handguns and a couple of .22’s.”

“Beautiful women usually aren’t liked by other women. We start investigating this woman and the shit will hit the fan. What do you want to do Tonelli? Bring her in for questioning? That isn’t going to happen.”

“Sir, there is motive here. Lydia Isackson liked it here.”

“That’s not much motive, Tonelli.”

“You’re right Chief. That’s why if there is anything here, I would think it would be an affair between her and Tony Reilly, a spurned woman, possibly?”

“Are you making this shit up as you go along, Tonelli?”

Conners jumped in, “Chief, we wouldn’t have come to you if we didn’t think this had some merit. We want to take a look at this as quietly as possible.”

“I doubt it’s going to stay quiet 24 hours, Captain. Where is the FBI on this?” asked Fong.

“We haven’t mentioned it to them and they aren’t communicating with us.”

“Of course they’re not, those motherfuckers. Do they know about Tony Reilly sailing in Mexico for the last month?”

“We haven’t told them because they haven’t returned phone calls.”

“What the fuck is this, high school?” He rose and paced his office. “Jesus Christ, working with these assholes is always like pulling teeth.” He sat back down put his hands on back of his head and his feet on his desk and fumed. “Well I don’t want the SFPD hung out to dry on this. Do you understand me?” He stared back and forth at the two men in front of him.

“Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to call up numb nuts Nelson or Forbes or the ghost of J. Edgar Hoover and demand a fucking meeting tomorrow afternoon. By that time, you’ll have a report on my desk on everything we have found out including a full report on Reilly’s Mexican cruise vacation and all your suspicions about Lydia Isackson and anything else that we have. Let’s say 4 PM, Okay? So, you have 24 hours Tonelli and then I hand it over to those fucking swinging dicks at the FBI which will be the same as giving it to TMZ. Now, get the fuck out of my office.” He yelled at them as they left, “When the history of this abortion is written, I want our skirts clean.”

As the two men walked down the corridor out of the Chief’s office, Tonelli said to Conners, “That went better than I expected.”

Chapter 23

San Francisco at Chicago was a Sunday evening game on ESPN. The story of Tony Reilly was featured before the game. The story of a hot quarterback who was able to step in and rally his team now had two solid performances under his belt.

“This was an excellent team before Paul Isackson went down,” Reilly said during a pregame interview. We were in the playoffs last year and we expect to be in the Superbowl this year. We’ve got the best D in football and the focus every week is to prove we’re the best team on the field.”

“Tony, you’ve shown great decision making and poise in the last two games. How did you develop those skills?”

“I’m a student of the game. My coaches and teammates made me better. Paul Isackson always took the time to show me how to be better and I’m just thankful he’s still by my side to help me. I’m a sponge, man. I worked at getting better and had great teachers.”

“You’ve attributed your decision making skills to running the taxi squad against one of the best defenses in football. How important has that been to your success?”

Reilly laughs. “I practiced getting my ass kicked all week. I encouraged the defense to do it. You do that long enough and you can see mistakes and where the opportunities are. It’s me and the rest of the scrubs against the best. That’s how Terrence Brown and I developed our skill together. I know what he’s going to do or he knows where I want him to go because we’ve done it so many times. I study defenses. I’ve seen what the best defense in football can throw against me. You better bring your “A” game against this offense, because it’s my job to pick you apart.”

San Francisco picked apart the third best defense in football 48 to 13. Reilly came out of the game at the start of the 4th quarter with a 38 to 3 lead for his new backup to get some playing time in. Tony Reilly was the highest rated quarterback in football for the month. He had yet to throw an interception.

Chapter 24

Paul Isackson actually was not on board with the rest of the team. After attending a couple of practices after the Texans’ game, he returned to Utah to spend time with his family. Lydia stayed back in the Bay Area with her heavy social calendar. She loved the Bay Area and wasn’t crazy about her large extended family and the strict Mormon lifestyle back home. She had moved on.

Her days consisted of rising late in the morning. Having breakfast with her daughter, leaving her with the nanny, and then off to the club for a workout with her personal trainer and lunch with her girlfriends. That left the late afternoons to play. Lydia had a number of playmates. Always discreet, Lydia liked her male friends. As she told her girlfriends, “Paul just doesn’t need it very often.” Lydia did and she had no problem finding an assortment of discreet friends for extended “sessions”. With Paul out of town, these trysts became more frequent. Her busy social calendar allowed her to meet and bed a rolodex full of discreet horny guys.

But, Lydia was a football girl at heart. She had always liked Tony Reilly. When he took over at quarterback and played the way he did, that interest in him grew. She called him one afternoon and suggested they get together. She had flirted with him on a number of occasions and saw he liked it. That’s how it started.

Chapter 25

The three of them finished talking to Jose Padilla in Avalon and walked out of the bar, strolling slowly in the warm California sun. “It sounds like Tony had a great time the last month. Wish I was there,” said Liz.

I stopped and looked at her. “I’ll bet he was thinking about you. He headed right back to you, first chance he got.” I thought about it for a minute. Told them, “Wait here, I’ll be right back,” and walked back into the bar. Padilla was starring at his beer and looked up at me when I sat down across from him.

“Jose, I forgot to ask you something.”

“Si, senor?”

“Did Tony talk about another woman?”

“Yes, he did. I not tell you in front of his wife. Please don’t tell her. I know he loved her. He was going to go back to her.”

“What did he say about the other woman, Jose?”

“He say he make big mistake with other man’s wife. He want to end it, but woman is difficult to leave. He say it is not good for him. He say he come here to forget her.”

“Did he tell you the woman’s name?”

“No. He say it is wife of man on his team.”

I nodded. “Anything else you can tell me, Jose?”

He thought about it for a moment. “He say he love his wife, senor.”

Chapter 26

I looked out the window at 30,000 feet and at the two people across from me. “So where are we with this? Where do we go next, Roge?”

Roger looked up from the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and the glass of milk in front of him, “The question is still the same. Who knew Tony Reilly was going to be back to his house that night?”

“His agent and the Team, we know that. Who else?”

“Lydia Isackson?” said Liz.

“How would she know?” I said.

“She knows everything. She’s probably blowing Oscar Tierney.”

“Any word from Tonelli?” I said to Roger.

“Nothing yet,” said Roger.

“We should know soon.”

“Roger, see if Torley can get something on Lydia’s email and cell phone calls.”

“That’s illegal,” said Roger smiling at me.

“Are you fucking with me?” Roger looked down and started typing. “Do you have an Internet connection?”

“Sometimes, it goes in and out,” he said.

“We should go talk to Tierney when we get in,” I said.

The limo was waiting in San Jose. I got Tierney on the phone and told him we were on the way over. I called Velma and filled her in on what we’d been up to, listened to her bitch for 10 minutes and left a message for Tonelli asking him to call.

The press was still at Team Headquarters but the numbers were down. We still hadn’t seen any reference to us in the press. We kept out of sight like before. The three of us climbed out and entered the admin building by the back door. Shawn Samuelson greeted us and escorted us to Tierney’s office.

“The world travelers,” he greeted us warmly giving Liz a hug.

“And traveling in style on your dime,” I said. “I appreciate your help.”

“Anything you need, Tom, Carte Blanche on this. What have you learned?”

“Well,” as Tierney was settling back into a deep comfortable leather chair in front of his desk, we did the same. “We know that for the past month, Tony Reilly was on a boat, sailing around Baja and surfing.”

“No wonder nobody has seen him. Wouldn’t he have had to go through immigration?”

“You’re supposed to check in at the ports and get processed into Mexico but it’s not enforced,” I said. “When the contract looked like it was ready to be signed, his agent emailed him and eight hours later he called Rosenbloom and said he was on the way back. Rosenbloom called you and said he was on his way in the next day. We know only Rosenbloom and you knew he was coming back. We still don’t know who knew he was going to be at his house that night.”

“Just sailing around Baja for a month?” said Tierney.

“He was really enjoying himself,” I said. “He worked out hard everyday. He was there staying in shape, running and swimming. The guy he was with said he was very quiet and seemed to be unhappy when he arrived and as the weeks went on, his whole attitude changed. By the time they left, it seems like he came back ready to get to work and play football.”

Tierney just shook his head, “What a waste”.

“We’re working on a few other things. I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

“What other things?” Tierney asked.

I wasn’t going to tell him about Lydia Isackson. “I don’t know, I haven’t thought them through yet.” He nodded.

“Elizabeth, looks like the services are going to be the end of the week. I understand you’re working through this with our people.”

“Yes, Oscar. Final details are up in the air, but your people have been great,” she said.

“The governor called me this afternoon. He wanted to let me know that all of his resources were available to me. He was very upset, even emotional. An hour later, the President of the United States called.”

“That’s impressive. Did you ask him why the worst excuse for a human being was heading up the investigation for the FBI?”

“No. He wasn’t calling to hear that, but I think he’ll take a return call if it comes to that. Point being, the entire country and probably a big piece of the world want to know what happened here. You’ve made some progress here, Tom. Have you shared it?”

“I’m talking to the SFPD, who is trying to talk to the FBI.”

“Are you making progress?”

I stared at him, for a moment. I’d been in these meetings a thousand times and I had a standard answer, but you have to deliver it. “I need a couple of days; I’m working on some things.”

“Good, I know you can do it.” He bought it. “I’d like to put Shawn Samuelson on your team.” No, he didn’t buy it.

“Respectfully, sir I’ll be happy to keep Shawn in the loop, but I’m not working with anyone. This is not a team, it’s me.”

“You seem to have a team with you.”

“No, this is just the practice squad that’s tailing along at the moment.” Tierney laughed.

“Okay, follow up on what you have going and keep me and Shawn informed.” He bought it.

Chapter 27

“The practice squad?” Liz and Roger were on my ass. “Fuck you, PI Boy,” said Liz.

“Mr. Mullins is consistently emotionally dishonest,” said Roger.

“Fuck you, Roger. I’ll take it from her, but I’m not taking your pseudo intellectual crap.”

“Practice squad that’s tailing along at the moment,” Liz said sarcastically.

“He laughed! It was a joke!”

“Did you like that joke Roger?” Liz asked.

“I thought it was condescending.”

I went across to the back of the limo, “I’ll condescend you, you little fucking…. Liz got between us defending Roger and I sat back down.

My cell phone buzzed, Tonelli. “What do you got?”

“Where are you?” he asked.

“Driving up on 280 out of San Jose. What fucking difference does it make where I am? I’ve been waiting on you, what do you got?”

Cell phone records for Lydia Isackson show no calls to or from Tony Reilly’s cell. Lots of calls though, that woman is on the phone most of every day.”

“Who is she talking to?”

“Lots of people, I guess, but that’s probably irrelevant. I just got a call from the FBI. They’ve arrested four men that they say are people of interest in the Tony Reilly case, four Muslims from Union City.”

I pulled the phone away from my mouth and said to Roger and Liz, “FBI has arrested four men of interest in the Tony Reilly case.”

Roger looking at his computer, “Yeah, four members of a mosque from Union City.”

“Where do you see that?”

“It’s on the AP wire from 5 minutes ago.”

I said to Tonnelli, “When did you get this information, it’s on the AP wire?”

“About 5 minutes ago.”

“Oh, that’s cool. They released it to you at the same time they released it to the press,” I said.

“Well, it explains why they’ve been so quiet," Tonnelli said. "They may have this sewn up.”

"So, Liz didn’t do it, huh?” I looked over at her. I said into the phone so everyone could hear, “Okay Roge, take the cuffs off her.”

Chapter 28

San Francisco went to Seattle the following week and beat the Division leaders in the rain. San Francisco defense played possessed with four take-aways that the offense turned into 18 points.

San Francisco had basically been a pass oriented team during the last few years. They used that pass to set up the run. They used a running back by committee approach, meaning they had a veteran running back, Reggie Robinson, who received most of the carries and a rookie fourth round draft choice named Keiland Best who was carrying the ball less than half the time. Robinson was a power runner who ran well straight ahead. Best was a better receiver with good running skills. Keiland Best emerged in the Seattle game. Taking dump off passes in the flat for long runs and breaking tackles and running over smaller defensive backs, he had six catches for 74 yards receiving with a score. In the fourth quarter, he broke a 57 yard draw play for a touchdown and ended up with 122 yards running. San Francisco cruised to a 38 to 13 victory and now had a new weapon in their offensive arsenal.

The following week, in week eight of the season, the Team again traveled. This time, it was to the much-anticipated Monday Night matchup of last year’s divisional championship game against an undefeated New York team. New York was a seven point favorite going into the game. The pre-game show had an interview with Reilly.

Host: Welcome Tony.

Tony Reilly: Thanks for having me.

Host: You’ve been an amazing story this year, taking over the team when two players in front of you went down with injuries, rallying your team in a big win over Baltimore, and then masterfully taking apart two strong defenses in Houston and Seattle. Where have you been?

TR: (Laughs) Stuck behind two good players on the bench.

Host: Do you think the Team knew what they had? You’ve certainly surprised a lot of people around the League with your poise and passing skills.

TR: Well, they kept me around. I had two seasons to learn how to be a quarterback in this league. I worked hard to be ready to play. You have to remember, this was a very good team, with lots of great players. The goal was to be Champion this year from day one.

Host: Well they just might get there with you showing what you have the last three games. Take me back to that Baltimore game and watching the two guys in front of you go down before the half. What was going through your head when you took the field that afternoon?

TR: Fear? (Laughs) I think I was on auto-pilot through the end of the half. I knew Baltimore was going to come after me, so I knew there were going to be open receivers if they did. I used to run the offense against our own defense every day in practice. I knew what I was going to do.

Host: You came out in the hurry-up offense in the second half and proceeded to take apart that defense. I heard you asked at half time for that.

TR: I did. What we were doing wasn’t working and I felt I could find receivers under pressure and the coaching staff let me give it a try. Fortunately, it worked.

Host: You’re four and two coming into New York against one of the premier undefeated teams in the NFL. What are you expecting tonight?

TR: I expect they’re going to blitz all night long against an inexperienced quarterback. That’s what I would do.

Host: How do you think you match up?

TR: We’ve got what I consider the best defense in the NFL. On offense, we’re going to take what they give us and what I think they’re going to give us is single coverage on our receivers. We are ready for this game.

Host: Good luck, Tony.

TR: Thank you.

New York took the opening kickoff and went 3 and out. San Francisco took the ball at their own 27 and ran the ball for two downs. On third and five in the hurry up offense in a spread formation, the New York showed blitz. At the last second, Reilly hand signaled to his wide receiver a go route. Jimmy Oliva hesitated for a moment on the line freezing the cornerback and then took off. With a full blitz on, Reilly lofted the ball in his direction before getting buried, delivering the ball perfectly in stride to Oliva who shook off the defender and took the ball for a 68 yard touchdown. A hush fell on the stadium.

New York went three and out on their next possession and again San Francisco spread the field in the hurry up. Reilly hit his tight end for 26 yards. When New York again showed blitz, Reilly dumped it out to Best in the flat for 17 more yards. San Francisco then ran it twice with Best finding the first down marker on a sweep. Reggie Robinson ran it eight yards up the middle for second and two at the 14-yard line. Reilly then found Oliva uncovered in the end zone.

“That’s just too easy, Tony Reilly and San Francisco are carving up the New York tonight,” said the color man.

On third and long the San Francisco defense intercepted the ball and ran it back to the six yard line. Two plays later, Reggie Robinson ran it in for 21 to 0 as the first quarter ended. The rout was on.

New York never got anything going and the best defense statistically in football could not stop the San Francisco offense. They put up 10 more points for a 31-3 half time lead. When New York came out throwing in the second half, San Francisco sat back in a zone defense and picked off three passes for a total of five interceptions in the game. Keiland Best had 134 yards and two touchdowns. Reilly had three touchdown passes and 320 yards passing. The final was 47-10 and by the fourth quarter, the stadium was half empty. San Francisco would never again be a Vegas underdog.

Chapter 29

The flight back from New York was a drunken affair with Oscar Tierney bringing on five cases of Dom Perignon before take off. The party was on. The flight got in to San Jose at 10 AM and the team had the day off. The normal practice schedule was thrown off for the week. By game time Sunday at home against Atlanta, the emotional high and confidence were there, but the same team that had beaten New York wasn’t. San Francisco got the ball and started driving, but after a holding and an offside call, they kicked it away. Atlanta came back with a 10-play scoring drive and went up 7-0.

San Francisco went 3 and out. Atlanta came back with another scoring drive and went up 14-0 at the end of the first quarter. Late in the 2nd quarter, a deflected pass resulted in Reilly’s first interception in 5 games. The defense held them and Atlanta kicked a field goal for a 17-0 lead.

With two minutes to go in the half, Keiland Best fumbled and Atlanta was able to put up another field goal as the half ended 20-0. At home, after a big win on Monday night, San Francisco was in a deep hole.

Tony Reilly went in with the offensive coordinator to look at defensive formations and discuss second half strategy as they usually did. He was unusually quiet. He listened to what his coach had to say, but didn’t offer any input. When he left the meeting room to rejoin the team, the mood was pretty sour in the room. As Coach Warren came into the center of the locker room, Reilly asked him if he could say something. Reilly looked around the room and you could see the anger in his face. “This is what happens when we come into a game unprepared,” he said. “We thought we could mail this one in because we beat the New York last week. Well, guess what? No one told Atlanta that. Every week we have to prove we’re the best team in football. We can’t just turn it on. Now we’re going to have to climb back into this one. Atlanta is going to sit back in zone and do what we did to New York last week. Three touchdowns down, we’re fucked.” He looked around at Keiland Best and said, “you drop the rock again and you’re going to be teaching PE in middle school next semester.” Reilly looked over at his tight end, “where do I have to put the ball Chester? Because when I put it in your hands, you ain’t fucking catching it. Catch the fucking ball!”

No one had ever heard Tony Reilly say anything to anyone that wasn’t positive. The room was in stunned silence. “I can’t tell you how much this horse shit effort pisses me off,” he yelled at the room. He then took his helmet and threw it as hard as he could at the water cooler where it bounced 20 feet away. He then walked over and further demolished the cooler with two kicks. He then walked into the trainer’s room and slammed the door.

Coach Warren started to say something, stopped, changed his mind. “Let’s go,” was all he ended up saying as the team broke for the field. Reilly sat on a table in the trainer’s room and one of the assistant trainers walked in and said, “Can I get you anything, Tony?”

Reilly looked at him and smiled. “How’s it going, Mikey?”

“Good, Tony.” He didn’t know what else to say. He’d been sent in by the head trainer to see if Tony was alright.

“How’s the wife?” Reilly asked him. “She went to UCLA same as Elizabeth, right?”

“Yup, both Bruins. They were talking after dinner the other night.”

“Yea, Liz told me.” Reilly just sat there smiling, dangling his legs.”

“You going back out there, Tony?”

“My helmet okay?”

“Yea, its okay.”

He smiled. “Yea, I’m going back out there.”

The on-field commentator for the network said just before the kickoff, “Tony Reilly was the last man out of the locker room jogging with a trainer. We haven’t had any reports of injury. We’ll see if we can get any reports. Coach Warren refused comment which is unlike him, but an assistant said it had been an emotional half time. Back to you.”

Atlanta went three and out running the ball three times which announcers interpreted as “looking like they’re going to sit back and let San Francisco continue to make mistakes and burn clock. We’ll see what happens on this first series and whether they’ve made any adjustments."

Reilly was even toned and confident in the huddle. Jimmy Oliva said after the game, “When he talks that way he does, with the confidence and swagger, there is no doubt we are going to score.”

Atlanta was happy to give San Francisco the underneath stuff. Playing conservative, prevent defense, trying not to give up the big play, in a 10 play drive with 5 different receivers, Reilly went in untouched on a keeper. Atlanta came back and had a couple of first downs, but the drive stalled and they put San Francisco deep in their own end on the punt. Keiland Best was electrifying. On 2nd and two, with wide receivers throwing blocks, Best went for 27 and it took three guys to haul him down. Three plays later, he went for 17 yards on a dump off pass. Reggie Robinson came in for Best and ran for 11 yards. Jimmy Oliva just managed to touch his toes down (confirmed with a replay challenge) in the back of the end zone, for the score. Back in the game, 20-14, with the stadium rocking.

At the start of the 4th quarter, the Atlanta’ drive stalled on the San Francisco 45. Reilly took over at the 12 and again came out in the hurry-up offense in a four receiver spread formation. He picked the defense apart, taking what the defense gave him. Keiland Best in the slot fought his way for 33 on a flat pass. Two plays later, his Tight End got 19 more. San Francisco gave Best the ball four straight times as Atlanta sat back in zone trying to stop the San Francisco passing attack. With two more first downs, Reilly found his third option in the pattern all alone when the defender fell down in a crossing route for a touchdown. Reilly calmly walked off the field with a lead for the first time that day.

Atlanta didn’t roll over. They put on their own sustained drive and kicked a 36 yard field goal for a 23-21 lead with 3:30 to play. This was the first time that Reilly had been in this position all season, having to win a game with clock winding down. Reilly looked around the huddle and said, “Plenty of time boys.” He then called two plays. Saw the Corner back off Oliva, changed the play, took the snap and fired it out to him for 14 yards. He then handed it off to Best for another 9 up the middle. At midfield, he hit one of his crossing wideouts and then did it again on the next play for short gains and a first down at the two minute warning. Reilly walked over to the coach and said “the safeties are cheating trying to stop Best. Let’s go get it now with Oliva.”

“I want to manage the clock,” said the coach.

Reilly responded, “I don’t want a field goal. It may not be there closer in. The defense will hold them. They have all day.”

The coach waited till the last second. “Okay, don’t force it. Give it a shot.

On play action, the fake froze the secondary and matched a streaking Oliva one on one with the smaller cornerback. Oliva took a perfect pass over his outside shoulder. The defender managed to wrestled him out at the 4. Two plays later Reggie Robinson powered in with 1:20 to go. The defense intercepted an Atlanta desperation pass on 4th down and it was over. The crowd had seen a ball game.

Inside the locker room, a laughing Tony Reilly yelled over at Keiland Best, “I’m glad you decided to show up for the second half, rookie.”

The quiet, polite, deeply religious Best said smiling, “you hurt my feelings.”

Reilly walked over to him, “awwww,” then jumped on top of him followed by the rest of the team.

When asked about a report about an emotional halftime outburst in the locker room during the post game press conference, Reilly admitted, “I was a little hot that we weren’t playing very well.”

“I heard a water cooler was destroyed.”

“That damn water cooler. I asked them to move it half a dozen times. Too close to my locker. Always a lot of riff-raff hanging around there. Seemed like as good time as any to do something about it.” The crowded press room laughed.

“Do you think the Team came out flat today?”

“That’s excellent insight, Bob,” Reilly said sarcastically. “When you’re playing like we have lately, other teams are going to be up for you. We need to be prepared to handle every team at their best. I hope we don’t make that mistake again.”

They didn’t.

Chapter 30

On a cold wet November Sunday, San Francisco showed up to play a struggling Chicago team. Chicago had a rookie quarterback playing for their injured starter and a defense, uncharacteristically for the them, wasn’t stopping anyone. San Francisco established their running game and Chicago couldn’t stop it all day. Best had a hundred and forty yards and two touchdowns. Reggie Robinson had 63 yards and a touchdown. It wasn’t till two minutes to go that Chicago finally scored for a 28-7 San Francisco victory. It had been old time smash-mouth football all afternoon and it showed the offense was not just about finesse and passing. You had to respect the run from them.

The next week at home against Seattle, San Francisco again established a running game and forced the defensive changes that then opened the passing game for big plays. This was every team’s dream. Your running game is so good, it forces other teams to play run defense against it. As soon as Reilly saw the defense cheating against the run, he would change the play at the line and throw it to a receiver who was in single coverage. He would force the defense to show their hand by playing hurry up with no huddle. Seattle, like Chicago the week before, just didn’t have an answer. Neither did St. Louis the following week when San Francisco won their 8th in a row, in another easy win.

The Team was playing the best football in the league on both sides of the ball. The cover of Sports Illustrated for the week featured Tony Reilly.

Chapter 31

Mullins spent two hours returning phone calls and another hour on emails and then went to bed for a three hour nap. When he woke at 11 PM, Liz and Roger were playing backgammon in the living room. “I beat him two games, Tom.” Liz was drinking a glass of wine. Mullins grabbed a glass, opened the freezer, pulled a bottle of Stolie out, and poured himself two fingers.

“Roger, go home and go to bed. And take that fucking game with you.”

“Awwww,” said Liz. Roger packed up.

“What’s going on with the Muslims?” he asked Roger.

“Their lawyer says they didn’t do it,” Roger said, while gathering up his stuff.

“What does the news say?”

“Nothing, but their booking photos were released. The story is that they’re radicals and that they had been planning it for months according to unnamed sources.”

Liz took a sip of white wine. Mullins sat down next to her and stared at Roger. “Okay,” Mullins said. “And how did they know Tony was going to be at his house that night? Were they sitting outside his house for the last month?”

“I don’t know,” Roger said. Mullins sat there looking at Roger who sat down on the chair opposite him. Mullins opened his cell phone and made a call.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Hey, Tommy.”

“What’s going on?”

“Well the FBI has the four guys somewhere and they’re probably sweating them.”

“That’s it?”

“Yea, the guys have no record. They were all part of the same mosque. They’re Intel Engineers and they live in Union City. That’s all we got. Just what I read on the Net.”

“Engineers? Not exactly Al Qaeda profiles.”

“Tell me about it. I wouldn’t put it past the FBI to just be on a fishing expedition.”

“Exactly.” Mullins sipped his drink.

“Just tell me how these guys knew Reilly was going to be at home that night?”

“We’re asking ourselves the same questions, Tom.”

“FBI won’t talk to you?”

“Nothing.”

“Let’s see if they’ll talk to Oscar Tierney.”

“Give it a shot. Tell him to say he needs answers. He’s trying to protect his team.”

“Eddie, do me a favor and send me the phone logs for Lydia Isackson.”

“Ummmm.”

“Come on, Eddie. My word, they don’t come back to hurt you.”

“I suppose so.”

“Excellent! Send them to Roger, will you?”

“Jesus, Tom!”

“I’ll get back to you, Eddie. Thanks.” Mullins got up and went to the kitchen to make himself another one and dialed Oscar Tierney.

“Good evening, Mr. Tierney, sorry to call so late.”

“Anytime for you, my boy. What’s going on?”

“Well, that’s what’s bothering me, sir. The police and I don’t know a thing about the arrests in the case and I was wondering if you’d heard anything.”

“The Regional guy, called me this afternoon when they picked them up and said they think they got the guys.”

“Did he say why he thought that? The big hole here is only a few people knew Reilly was in the area that night. Did they say how they knew?”

“Eavesdropping? These are some smart guys.”

“But who were the Muslims eavesdropping on so they’d know? Or is this just a big bunch of crap and the FBI has nothing?”

“You want me to make a call?”

“Yes, I would, sir, because I’ve been down this road before with these assholes and this is the type of thing they do. Specifically, how solid is the case against these guys? What do they have? Can we let our guard down?”

“I got that impression this afternoon, but I’ll get some answers.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tierney. I look forward to hearing from you.”

“No, thank you, Tom. This is why you’re working for me.”

Mullins sat back down next to Liz and looked over at Roger. “Were the games for money?” he said to Liz.

“Yea, Roger owes me two bucks.”

“Always get cash from him. He’s a weasel about money. Go to bed Roger.”

“That’s because you only pay me minimum wage,” Roger said as he walked out.

Liz and Mullins turned to each other and both cracked up, laughing. “He’s a pistol, huh?” said Mullins.

“You’re very hard on him,” she said. Mullins shook his head. “Can I ask you something? Why do you have Roger around you if you’re going to be unkind to him?” she asked. “It’s an unusual relationship.”

“I’ll tell you about Little Roger Goody.”

Chapter 32

"The Goodys lived next door to us my whole life. When my Mom died when I was 10, Ilene became almost a step-mom to me. The families were close. I would often go to their house for dinner as my Dad worked long hours sometimes, as a Chief in the SFPD. They were a childless couple for 18 years of marriage when unexpectedly Roger showed up when I was 17. I had never been around babies. I didn’t even know how to hold one. A new baby next door was a big damn deal. I immediately fell in love with the kid. I spent a lot of time holding him. I’d take him for a walk in the stroller. He was so damn cute.

It wasn’t long before we realized that this was a smart kid. He was unusually alert. He didn’t sleep a lot. Then at about six months, he started talking. His parents always talked to him like he was an adult. There was never any baby talk in the Goody house, except by me. I could always get a laugh out of him.

You know his father is the Dean of the Psychology Department at Cal? That gave him access to the best child development people in the world. Roger was in a program with other gifted kids. He ran the class. A lot of gifted kids are shy and withdrawn, not Roger. He was just the opposite, very outgoing and engaging. Roger would remember the name of everything after being told once. By the time he was nine months old, he was reading. He loved puzzles and numbers. You know Sudoko? He was solving those before he was a year old. I hate Sudoku. I can’t do them! His parents exposed him to a lot of different things but numbers were always his thing. He could give you the square root of any number in seconds by five years old.

He was like a sponge. He wanted to know about everything. He was a pest. The Goodys had a Chinese nanny who taught him Mandarin, which he speaks fluently as well as God knows what else. He has a friend who he speaks to in Vietnamese.

One of the things that happened very early is that he latched onto me. If I went over to see him, he would cry when I left. I loved being around him. I would do my homework and he would sit in the room reading or drawing. He would entertain himself. He was like my baby brother and that relationship just continued. He’d read my college text books when I was doing homework. His comprehension was unbelievable. We would discuss things like he was an adult, when he was, like four.

He had a tutor at 5, and by 7 he had finished up the course material through the 6th grade. Math and science were easy for him. He thought about things from different angles. Stuff the notes would say, if I had bothered to read them. He always was on the computer. His mother used to have to take away and hide it to get him off. He soon learned to network with other people through the Internet. He loved online games and quickly mastered them and moved onto the next one. He learned game theory and how to design games. He still runs a game that he designed where he is the godfather of a crime family. He doesn’t play it as much now, but at one time there were 10,000 other people playing it.

You couldn’t send him to a regular school. He got along well with other children, but was light years ahead of them. He has always been home schooled but he would play sports with other kids - not always successfully, but he’s had his moments. He played Little League baseball up until last year. Too busy playing real cops and robbers for that kind of thing now. I rolled my eyes.

He likes chemistry and physics. He doesn’t have a long attention span for various subjects lately. He learns a lot about a subject and then goes onto something else. He’s very knowledgeable about electrical engineering and architecture. His mother sees that he is always reading something and will discuss it with him. He knows the Classics. He hasn’t latched onto any one thing. He can play the piano but isn’t a prodigy. He has an electric guitar but just isn’t crazy about music. His parents could get him into a college, but he won’t go. Since he’s home schooled, his mother lets him study whatever he wants.

The big thing lately is Law. Can you imagine a twelve year old reading law books? He met my attorney a couple of years ago. Saw all the books in his office and started pumping him about what an attorney does. Next thing I know, he’s into it. It’s not just criminal law. It’s contracts, tax. I just don’t get it. I asked Laverney to test his knowledge. He had him sit in with law students in study groups. He said he wouldn’t be surprised to have him be able to pass the bar. He’s been at it on and off for a year.

He really gets off on tangents. He went through a Buddhism phase last year. He would quote Buddha to me all the time. He loves Ornithology, the study of birds. He’ll give me the proper scientific name of various birds just walking along the street. When he doesn’t know something, he’ll immediately look it up online and it goes in the vault, never to be forgotten. Last month we were out doing something and he begins telling me about the mapping of the genome of the Zebra Finch. After about an hour of that, I called for a cease and desist. Sometimes he wants me to know about something, other times he’s just thinking out loud.

He seems to like only one thing consistently, that’s being around me, doing what I’m doing. Often he’ll come over and see what I’m doing and offer to do it for me. If I’m involved in something, he wants in. Lately he’s been doing a lot more of the day to day management of the agency, the endless routine stuff that drives me crazy. He reads all the office reports and handles my office email. He’ll respond as me and then blind copy me. He even writes like me. If it’s something I should know about, he’ll text me or come to talk to me about it.

The biggest problem with Roger is he gets whatever he wants. He’s got everyone eating out of the palm of his hand. He’s cute and smart and knows it. I won’t stand for any of his shit. The parents actually like this arrangement since they’ve basically lost control of him. He’s deviously manipulative and usually I can see it a mile away because I know how he thinks. I don’t always get why he’s being manipulative, but just know he’s fucking with me for some reason. I think it was Aristotle who said, “There was never a genius without a touch of madness.” I put up with absolutely no shit from him because when you give him an inch, he takes a mile. He has accepted that. The only thing that slows him down is to threaten to not allow him to be in the office or around me."

“So, why do you have him around if he’s so manipulative?” Liz asked.

“I like him when he’s not being a dick. Having a genius around has its advantages. He knows all the electronics we use. How to repair things. He used to follow the maintenance man around. He’s a wiz with computer networks. He changed the accounting system in the office. Velma had been doing the books forever by hand including payroll. Roger computerized the whole business. Put in systems and controls. It’s like having a Stanford business school graduate on staff. He doesn’t sleep much. You ask him to do something and he’ll plow through it till it’s done. I’d have to get three people to replace him.

“And you pay him minimum wage.”

I laughed, “Yes and I’ll continue to pay him minimum wage. There are also incentives for projects and he gets more for computer work we give him. His parents don’t want him paid more. It’s a concession that they even let him work but, Roger runs the show over there. They can’t say no to him, so I do.”

“Lately with the investigative work, he’s gone to a new level. Together with Torley, another guy who works for us, they’re doing computerized investigations that are…amazing. I had a guy call me up from a big Silicon Valley company and tell me he was amazed at the speed they figured out an issue that was systematically draining them of cash. Had it diagnosed and traced for an arrest in one day. It was a guy in Italy. Interpol arrested him last month. We have a contract now with the company for diagnostic, preemptive security. Roger loves that kind of stuff. I’ve been holding back on signing more customers because I don’t want to tie him up just doing that."

“Fucking, Roger,” I said shaking my head. He’s around because he’s glued to me.”

I looked at her, “So, what have you been up to?”

“Talking to your lawyer, who is now my lawyer and to Rosenbloom.”

“It would be nice if it was over.”

“Doesn’t sound like you think it is.”

“I don’t see how it could be.” I sipped my drink.

“What’s going to happen to us if it is?”

“Us?”

“Yea, us.” She looked at me.

“I guess that’s up to you.”

“In the last three months I’ve only made love to one guy.”

“Lucky guy.”

“Very lucky,” she said.

“Any chance of his getting lucky tonight?”

“Up to him, I guess. He could start by kissing me.”

“I was thinking I’d go for a tit.”

“That’s the reason you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Probably right.” I put my arms around her and gave her a long, slow, passionate kiss. “Welcome back, beautiful.”

Chapter 33

I was sitting in front of Oscar Tierney’s desk at 9:30 the next morning. “So, it all sounds like bullshit to me, Tom. They’ve got 4 guys talking a ‘dramatic event’ in the same time frame as the shooting. Nothing even close to specific. And there is no indication that these guys are even violent! I don’t know how they even got arrested for mentioning a ‘dramatic event’ on an illegal wiretap.”

“No wonder, the FBI isn’t talking. There is nothing to talk about.”

“Where do we go from here?”

“Well, I suggest we continue to poke at it and hope we get lucky.” Tierney turned around and looked out his window onto a guy fielding punts on the practice field.

“That’s our second round pick trying to field punts.” Mullins walked over and watched as the punt bounced off the players face guard.

“I could do that.” Both men laughed.

“Yea, but you don’t have his speed.” They watched again as this time the rookie watched the ball into his chest and then sprinted the length of the field.

“He is fast.”

“He’ll be a good receiver someday. We didn’t need him, but you take the best player available and we had him higher.” They watched as the player did it again. “Well shit, Tom. Keep me posted on your progress. Meanwhile, make yourself at home around here.”

“Thank you Mr. Tierney. That was the plan.” I walked down to the locker room which was full of players getting ready to practice. I spotted Jerry Cochran and walked over to him. Another player sat dressed for practice on a bench beside him.

“Hey Jerry,” and I nodded to the other player sitting beside him.

“Hey Tom, you think they found the guys who did it?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Not unless they designed a killer robot to sit in his garage waiting for him.” I glanced at the player sitting next to him whose knee was bouncing 100 miles an hour and then looked back at Jerry.

“This is our rookie center, Carl Jackson. His motor runs a little hot.”

“I can see that.” The young guy looked up at me and said hello.

“He’s as dumb as fence post.” We both laughed.

“Pleasure to me you, Carl.” The young man smiled up at me.

“God help us if I go down.”

“He’s just a little nervous,” I said.

“No, he’s really stupid. What was your major in college, Jackson, General Ed Requirements? You know why he’s sitting here? Coaches told him to stick close to me and maybe he could learn something. His locker is on the other side, so he gets in early, dresses and then comes and sits by me. He doesn’t want to miss any pearls of wisdom out of my mouth.”

“That’s a good plan, Carl.”

“Only he’s just too fucking stupid to learn anything. It’s a waste of time. So, you’re still on the case?”

“Oh yeah, we’re working on a couple of things. Still knocking on doors.”

“How’s Elizabeth? Services set for Friday?”

“I gave her a ride home this morning. She’s working on the details. I think she was going to call Connie to get some help.”

“I hope she does. We want to help her any way we can.” Jerry finished putting on his workout clothes. “Come on, rookie, let’s go watch me get taped. We can work on the concept of snapping the ball. Now let’s go over this again, when the man says, hike…” He gave me a wink as he walked by.

Carl Jackson hesitated a moment, watching Jerry walk away. He said under his breath, “I just graduated Cum Laude in Economics from Penn State,” and also winked at me. “It’s a rookie thing.”

“Let’s go rookie,” Jerry shouted across the locker room. It was going to be a long preseason for that guy, I thought.

I went looking for Matt Benson and found him in a trainer’s room getting worked on, stretching. He had earbuds in and took them out when he saw me. “Hey, Tom. I hear you found Jose Padilla.”

“Sitting on a bar stool in Avalon. We told him about Tony. Padilla was crushed. They got close cruising around Mexico in your boat and surfing.”

“I’ll bet. Did he say they had a good time?”

“He said Tony had the time of his life. Jose said he became a much happier guy over the course of that month.”

“Well that’s what the Doctor ordered. I’m glad that last month was a good one. He wasn’t a happy camper when he left.”

“Jose, said it was about a woman. He said he had made a big mistake with another woman, not his wife.”

“It’s usually about a woman.” Benson started to wrap some tape around his wrist.

“Come on, Matt, what was going on?” Benson finished with one wrist and started taping the other.

“What makes you think he told me what was going on?”

“I just think he might have told you. He went to you, told you about a mess he was in. You handed him the keys to your boat and told him to get lost for awhile.” Benson cut the tape with his teeth and just stared at me. “Was it Lydia Isackson?” He blinked.

“Why did you ask me that?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Just a hunch.”

“Just a hunch?”

“A name that keeps coming up.”

“Well that name is going to fuck this team up, maybe beyond repair.”

“It’s just between us right now.” He stared at me and then he nodded. “Why is there no record of cell phone calls between them?”

“They were careful? We have meetings about behavior as representatives of the league. We’re warned about affairs with married women. We’re also warned about other players’ wives and girlfriends. If they were having an affair, and I do mean if, because he never said it to me, they were careful.”

“I’m about positive they were having an affair,” I said.

“I think you’re right,” Benson said.

“He breaks it off and she kills him in his garage on the night he comes back?” I said.

“The thought had occurred to me.” We stared at each other. “Now what?” he said.

“I don’t know.”

“Could be a terrorist thing. They got those guys under arrest. Even if they were having an affair, it could be irrelevant.”

“It isn’t terrorists.”

“You sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“This is a big pile of shit,” he said shaking his head. “You better be sure before you let the cat of this bag.”

“I think I’ll go talk to the cat.”

Chapter 34

San Francisco faced two tough opponents in a row at the beginning of December. Tennessee was coming off a big home win against division rival Indianapolis. After the St. Louis game, San Francisco was again playing on the other side of the country. Traveling like that takes it out of a team. It screws up practice schedules. If there were ever a time for a let down, this was it.

Didn’t happen. Usually Monday is day off after a Sunday game, especially when the flight gets in after midnight from the previous game. The team leaders went to the coaches and told them to have a late practice on Monday and move the week’s schedule up. It was an unusual request, but this had become an unusual team. The players were supposed to be in at 2 PM for practice, but most of the team were there by noon, reviewing film of Tennesee. A number of new offensive plays and defensive looks were suggested. Rather then complaining about the extra work, the players, to a man, weren’t just motivated, they were on a mission. By the time they got on the field the following Sunday, they were ready.

Tennessee turned out to be the next victim. San Francisco’s defense was relentless, setting up the offense for three straight opening scores. At half time, the score was 24 to 0. The Tennessee couldn’t move the ball. They went on to a 41 to 10 victory with every player on the team seeing playing time.

The players wanted to use the same practice schedule for the following week’s game against Minnesota. The Coach decided it was too much. The players were welcome to come in and watch film and work out, but no formal practice. All the players were in Monday afternoon. Reilly and the receivers worked on passing routes with DB’s shadowing them. The Minnesota were 11 and 1. San Francisco was 10 and 2 and had won 9 in a row. This game was probably going to determine home field advantage throughout the playoffs. It was a Sunday night game and the biggest regular season game of the year. Minnesota had the best rated defense in football, San Francisco was second. Minnesota had the best running back in football. The combination of San Francisco’s two backs were the best running game in football. Minnesota had a veteran Quarterback with two Championship wins under his belt and he was probably in his last season. San Francisco had Tony Reilly, the hottest quarterback in football. Two evenly matched premier teams. San Francisco at home were a two point favorite.

Before the game, the San Francisco Coach, Charlie Warren, was interviewed by ESPN.

ESPN: Welcome Coach. It’s been a crazy season for you, going 1-2 to start the season, losing your starter and backup quarterback in the first half of game four, coming from behind to win that game, and then running off 9 in a row.

Coach Warren: It’s an old cliché, but we’ve been taking one game at a time. It’s been an incredible run, but we’re focused on the game tonight.

ESPN: What were you thinking when your two quarterbacks went down that day?

CW: I was thinking we were screwed. (Laughs) There was so much going on with the fight that broke out after the second injury. Remember, we not only lost our second quarterback, but our safety Brian Reed was tossed. I just said to Tony Reilly, control the ball and let’s get out of the half.

ESPN: Half time and Tony Reilly comes to you and says let’s go hurry up and spread the field. Up till then, the team wasn’t using that offense often.

CW: Tony knew exactly what he wanted to do. What we were doing wasn’t working. He convinced us he could do it. I said, let’s give a try and the rest is history. That afternoon, Tony Reilly took over the offense and made me look like a genius.

ESPN: (Laughing) Did you know you had a such a talented player buried on the bench?

CW: Of course not. I knew I had a talented student of the game who worked his tail off every day at practice to be a better player, but I never imagined he had come that far. I also knew that we were capable of playing with any team in the league. Tony’s performance that day was simply incredible. Since that day, he’s just gotten better.

ESPN: Your offense and defense has gotten better throughout the season. Why the big turn around?

CW: The leadership of this team has stepped up and I’m referring to individual leadership with the likes of Tony Reilly, Matt Benson and Reggie Robinson. People, who are inspired, inspire others. This is the easiest team I’ve ever coached. I have to make these guys go home at night. They are quietly confident that they are the best team in football and they can’t be stopped. I rarely say anything to motivate this team. You know why?

ESPN: Why?

CW: I don’t have to. They motivate themselves and each other. Winning is contagious. Every coach should get an opportunity to coach a team like this once in his life.

ESPN: Minnesota thinks they’re the best team in football. How are you going to play the best Defense in football tonight?

CW: Playing it by the book, against a blitzing defense you run, but we haven’t seen a blitzing defense we couldn’t beat. Please, all you defense coordinators out there, blitz us. Tony Reilly licks his lips when he sees blitz.

ESPN: Finally Coach, what about this quarterback controversy in San Francisco? You have two of the best QBs in football now. What do you do? Who do you keep?

CW: What controversy? I’ll be honest with you, I don’t think about it. I don’t compare the two. I just don’t think about it. I go with the team we can put on the field. I’m concerned with Minnesota right now. I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. We’ll deal with it when we have to.

ESPN: Good luck, Coach.

CW: Thank you.

It was a perfect night for football. 62 degrees in a virtually calm San Francisco stadium. The crowd had been partying in the parking lot all day for the early evening game. There was an electric playoff atmosphere.

San Francisco took the opening kick off. On the second play of the game, a Minnesota defensive lineman put his hand up and tipped the ball thrown to the Tight End on a crossing pattern. The ball hit the receiver in the shoulder, bounced up in the air and into the arms of the Defensive Back who ran it 30 yards into the end zone untouched. 7-0 Minnesota in the first three minutes of the game. That took the air out of the crowd. Reilly walked off the field expressionless, the same way he did when he threw touchdown passes.

Again, San Francisco took over and on the first play from scrimmage, ran Best up the middle for 8 yards. On second and two in the hurry-up offense, Reilly saw the DB back off of Oliva. He immediately changed the play at the line and fired it out to him at the line. The bigger Oliva shook off the Corner and took it for 27 yards. At midfield, they gave it to Best twice in a row and set up 3rd and four at their own 45. Again, Minnesota showed blitz. Terrence Brown, as the slot receiver found the wide open spot in the zone coverage and Reilly found him for 18 more. Minnesota was getting to Reilly, but he was getting the ball off before getting buried. San Francisco gave Best the ball 3 times in a row and a first down at the 19. Oliva made a toe tapping catch in the back of the end zone to tie the score.

Minnesota went 3 and out the first time they got the ball on offense. Their powerful running game was getting no traction. The teams traded the ball back and forth. On a pass interference call and a 20 yard run, Minnesota kicked a 45 yard field goal as the 1st quarter ended.

When San Francisco got the ball back, Oliva ran under a last second desperation throw just before Reilly was buried. Oliva broke two tackles and went in for the score.

“Every time Tony Reilly sees single coverage on Oliva, he’s throwing it to him,” said the color man. “And he is toasting one of the best cornerbacks in the game.” The stadium was bedlam.

San Francisco Defense continued to hold the Minnesota offense and again Reilly went to work, running Best and throwing to open receivers in a zone defense. The Minnesota defense had now been on the field twice as long as the San Francisco Defense. They just had no answer for the no huddle spread offense. On 3rd and three at their own 40, Reilly openly signaled a go pattern to Oliva. Reilly took the snap, looked at Oliva running a deep slant, freezing the Safety and then firing to the other side, to the receiver who turned just in time to see the ball on top of him. He was forced out at the 11 and Reggie Robinson powered the ball into the end zone two plays later for 21 to 10.

With Minnesota in their two-minute offense, San Francisco picked off the Minnesota future hall of fame quarterback and kicked a field goal to end the half 24 to 10. They cruised to an easy 41 to 17 victory, with Minnesota only scoring in the last two minutes. They had completely dominated Minnesota. They would have home field advantage throughout the playoffs. They were on a mission.

Chapter 35

Roger and I picked Liz up in the morning and rode over to the office. Introduced her to Velma, who was unusually gracious to her. Liz had been expecting the worst after what Roger had told her about the “who-ares” comment. Eddie Tonnelli and Torley Shin were there. “Okay, what do we got?” I asked to start the meeting.

Tonnelli said, “We got a women who loves to talk on the phone. She’s mostly talking to girlfriends, but there are a number of guys she’s regularly speaking with, too.”

“No calls to Tony Reilly?” I asked.

“No, but I’ve got a theory on that.”

“Well?”

“Separate phones. They buy a couple of cheap phones just for talking to each other,” said Tonelli.

“Could be,” I said. “What do you think, Roge?”

“Make sense to me. You just throw them away when you’re done with them. Professional athletes are counseled never to have phone records or texts that can come back and bite them,” he said.

“How do you know?”

“I called Rosenbloom.”

I said to Liz, “See, I told you he was smart. Anyone else got anything?” Everyone just looked at me. “So, Lydia Isackson starts having an affair with Tony. They communicate using cheap cell phones to keep it a secret. Tony leaves his wife. Tony is in the middle of contract negotiations and he decides to get out of town. Heads for sailing around Baja. Tony or Lydia decide to break it off and she murders Tony for dumping her? Or, she decides she doesn’t want to move to Miami? And how does she know he’s arriving that night? He texts or calls her? She writes Alhamdulillah on the top of his car to throw off an investigation. What did I miss?”

“A crime of passion…okay we’ve seen it before,” says Tonelli, “but she murders him because she doesn’t want to move to Miami?” says Tonelli. “That’s pretty weak.”

“Agreed,” I said. “I’m thinking out loud here.”

“There was a call from the Team headquarters to her cell phone the night of the murder,” says Torley.

“Why would they be calling her?” I ask. “Could it have been her husband calling her from there?”

“There are a number of calls from Headquarters to her cell,” says Torley, “three or four a week.”

“Do we have his cell phone records?”

“Yes,” says Roger. “Paul Isackson calls her from his cell often. He doesn’t make a lot of calls.”

I shake my head. “We haven’t got anything. All we have is that they were probably having an affair.”

“Go talk to her. Maybe, wear a wire,” says Velma. “Ask her if she murdered Tony Reilly and then shadow her. Tap her phone. See what she does.” She takes a deep pull on her Pall Mall. “Irv used to like to stir things up when he didn’t know what was going on.”

“The more we talk about this,” said Liz, the less sure I am about this whole thing.”

“You and me both,” I said.

Chapter 36

Roger and I were waiting by Lydia Isackson’s car outside the Palo Alto Golf and Tennis Club when Lydia Isackson walked out at 2 PM. She said, “Hello boys,” when she saw us.

“Hello, Mrs. Isackson. We were wondering if you might have a moment to speak to us.”

“For you two,” she said laughing, “anytime and please call me Lydia.”

“I have a car over there,” pointing at the limo.

“Your office?”

“Pretty much, lately.” She climbed in and Roger and I followed. You’re a tennis player?” I asked.

“I am. Keeps the weight down.” It never ceases to amaze me how women are never satisfied with their bodies. Lydia Isackson’s was perfect. “Lydia, we have been doing some digging into Tony Reilly’s death.”

“Yes, I know.”

“It’s come up that you and Tony apparently were having an affair.” Lydia Isackson looked at us with a puzzled expression.

“Who told you that? It’s not true.”

“Tony told a couple of different people that he was.”

“Well, I don’t know why he would say something like that.”

“These are very believable, independent sources, Lydia. I think it’s true. I’m hoping you’ll tell us anything you know about the death of Tony Reilly.”

“I wasn’t having an affair with Tony Reilly and I don’t know anything about his death.”

“Lydia, this is going to come out. We have the cell phone records of the calls between you and Tony. Too many people know about you and him for it to remain under wraps for long. I work for the Team. I will do my best to keep you out of this, but I need to know what happened.”

She stared at me. “Do you think I killed him?”

“It’s a possibility,” I said. “The spurned lover, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

She sighed and began, “We started seeing each other after the Championship. I called him up and asked him to make a charity appearance and we got to talking. He came over for lunch the next day and it started. A month later he moved out of his house. I was considering leaving Paul when he got cold feet. He said he was reconsidering. I was very upset and disappointed, but I wasn’t going to kill him. Then, he left for a month. I didn’t hear from him. He called me the night he was returning and said he had decided to try and get back together with Elizabeth. I wished him luck. It was over. It had been a month and I was over it. The next day he was dead. I have no idea who killed him. That’s it.”

“Who else besides you knew he was coming home that night,” I asked her.

“I don’t know, the Team, his agent, Elizabeth?”

“Elizabeth didn’t know. His agent didn’t have specifics on when he was returning. You’re the only one who knew.”

“Oscar Tierney knew, there must have been others.”

“How do you know Tierney knew?” She thought about it for a moment.

“I told him.”

Chapter 37

An article in Sports Illustrated for the January edition: “Tony Reilly Is Cool” by Drew Sullivan, Sports Writer, The Boston Globe.

"Tony Reilly is cool. That’s what I said as I watched him put another touchdown pass on Jimmy Oliva’s fingers, in a corner of the end zone, a pass only he could possibly deliver. I watched Reilly jog expressionless to the sidelines, giving the goalposts a quick glance back. It reminded me of a gunslinger walking away from a day’s challenge, after taking care of business. He ignores the players slapping him on the helmet and back. He sits down, puts headphones on and starts talking to the booth. He’s oblivious to all the congratulations on the sidelines. A few players say something to him but most leave “Ice” alone. He’s working.

Why do I think Tony Reilly is cool? What’s cool? Maybe it’s something along the lines of talent combined with class? How about, cool is primarily an attitude of self-assurance? It’s composure and self-control, but it’s also admiration or approval. Where does the ironic detachment figure in here? The problem is ‘cool’ has no single meaning. Cool is elusive. It’s a word used all over the English speaking world and its meaning is vague, but always positive. I like, “Cool cannot be manufactured, only observed.”

I decided cool is whatever I say it is. “Cool can only be observed by those who are themselves cool”. Since I know, I’m cool, I’m going to give you My Ten Coolest Guys list. This is done in no particular order.

10. Steve McQueen- Coolest actor ever, always played the cool guy. The Great Escape is still one of my all time favorites. The Bullitt car chase is the standard. I met McQueen during the filming of The Thomas Crown Affair, filmed in my hometown, when I was a teenager. It was summer and he was learning to play polo for the movie. Drove a motorcycle and a dune-buggy around town that summer. He was cool.

9. John Lennon- Musician who founded and led the Beatles. Seeing them on the Ed Sullivan Show as a kid, I knew cool when I saw it. Twist and Shout. Imagine. He was outspoken about the hypocrisy he saw around him. I continue to discover how cool he was.

8. Bobby Orr- One of those players you had to watch when he was on the ice. He changed hockey. He was a defenseman back in an era when the defenseman position was a defensive player. Orr remains the only defenseman to have ever won the season scoring title. He scored the winning goal in both of the Bruins championships. He refused the salary of the Chicago Blackhawks after he was traded and injured, because “I didn’t earn it.” He’ll always be cool for me.

7. Ted Williams- Best hitter in baseball history. I idolized him as a kid and saw him hit a few. Served as a fighter pilot during WWII and Korea. Here’s his “Bobby Orr” story: “In 1941, he entered the last day of the season with a bating average of .39955. This would have rounded up to .400, making him the first man to hit .400 since Bill Terry in 1930. Manager Joe Cronin left the decision whether to play up to him. Williams opted to play in both games of the day’s doubleheader and risk falling short, explaining that “If I can’t hit .400 all the way, I don’t deserve it.” He singled in his first at-bat, raising his average to .401, and followed it with a home run and two more hits in the first game. Williams went 2 for 3 in the second game, for a total of 6 hits in his last 8 at-bats, for a final average of .406. No player has hit .400 in a season since Williams. He fought with fans and the press throughout his career. In his last at-bat at Fenway, he homered, then, as usual failed to tip his hat to the standing ovation. Too cool.

6. Larry Bird- What did you think? I was going to give it to Magic Johnson? No. If you haven’t guessed, I’m from Boston. Bird was Red Auerbach’s favorite player. He considered Bird to be the greatest basketball player of all time. The working man’s player. His rivalry with Magic Johnson led a resurgence in basketball during the 80’s. He’s white but he’s cool.

5. Frank Sinatra- Is it “Old Blue Eyes” or “Chairman of the Board”? From a different generation, Frank was always cool. Leader of the “Rat Pack”, he did it his way.

4. Jack Nicholson- He first came onto my radar in Easy Rider in his first big acting break. But as Randle P. McMurphy, in the movie adaptation of my favorite book, Ken Kesey’s novel, One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, he hit his stride and never looked back. A hard drinking, hard living certified bad boy, Nicholson continues to amaze with the likes of A Few Good Men (“You can’t handle the truth”) and as the Irish mob boss in The Departed. I never thought much of his choice of teams (Lakers and Yankees) but as an actor, Nicholson is cool.

3. Jack Johnson- It took the filmmaker Ken Burns-produced documentary about Johnson’s life that drove home just how cool this guy was. He was the first black heavyweight champion of the world in an era when that was almost impossible to achieve. He was one of the first celebrity athletes. He loved white women, fast cars and tailored clothing. Muhammad Ali often spoke of how he was influenced by Jack Johnson. “I’m Jack Johnson. Heavyweight champion of the world. I’m black. They never let me forget it. I’m black all right! I’ll never let them forget it!” Jack Johnson was cool.

2. Miles Davis- You can’t make a cool list without including the “prince of darkness”. In 1954, his Birth of Cool album gave its name to the “cool jazz” movement. The Rolling Stone Encyclopedia of Rock & Roll noted, “Miles Davis played a crucial and inevitably controversial role in every major development in jazz since the mid-‘40s, and no other jazz musician has had so profound an effect on rock. Miles Davis was the most widely recognized jazz musician of his era, an outspoken social critic and an arbiter of style - in attitude and fashion - as well as music.” The man invented cool.

1. Tony Reilly- The new cool rookie. Does he really belong on a list with the above? The way he carries himself, motivates the players around him and his workmanlike concentration during a game have him two games away from the Super Bowl and unbeaten as a starting QB. We’re about to find out how cool “Ice” really is. I wouldn’t bet against him. He’s way too cool.”

Chapter 38

“You spoke to Tierney after you spoke to Tony Reilly?” I could see Lydia was reluctant to talk about this.

“I’m fucked. This is going to be bad.” She started crying. “I knew Tony was coming back and that it was over for Paul and me here. I called to say goodbye to Oscar. He’s been very good to me.”

“Were you that close to Tierney?”

She paused and wiped away tears, “We were close.”

“Close like you and Tony were close?” She turned to me and nodded her head.

Roger was the one who asked it. “Is he in love with you?”

She looked away from us, out the window. “Yes, he didn’t want me to go.”

“How long had this been going on?” I asked.

“For a year and a half,” she said.

Wow! A lot of implications in that statement, I thought. Lydia Isackson got around. That was three guys she was doing at the same time.

“Do you think Oscar Tierney killed Tony Reilly?” Roger asked her.

She looked back at both of us, “I hope not.”

Chapter 39

Dallas beat the Detroit in the wild card game. For the first time in 20 years, San Francisco and Dallas faced off in a playoff game. San Francisco had two weeks to prepare for the game and rather than a letdown, came in to it with all cylinders firing. On the first possession, San Francisco marched down the field with precision passing and run plays, operating in the hurry up, spread formation. The Dallas defense didn’t have any answers to formations and plays they hadn’t seen before. They couldn’t get the right personnel on the field in the hurry-up. At the 10, Reilly faked a pass left and took off right, untouched into the end zone. He had completed 7 in a row before Best dropped an easy flair pass to the flat.

San Francisco Defense was on a mission, popping players all over the field. Dallas managed only to get to midfield once in the first quarter. On the offensive side of the ball, San Francisco scored 5 times in the first half for a 23-3 lead. The much-hyped rematch of two storied teams from the past never materialized. San Francisco was on a roll and the game was never in doubt. With a 35-10 lead in the fourth, Reilly came out of the game to a tumultuous standing ovation. He had completed 31 of 35 passes for 365 yards, 2 touchdown passes and scored. He had been flawless. When he ran off the field, he uncharacteristically jumped in the air and held up his index finger signifying #1 and then put it to his lips as if to say, “don’t tell anyone.”

Minnesota came to San Francisco for the NFC Championship game. They had easily beaten Atlanta to get there and were confident despite their loss to San Francisco six weeks ago. The game developed slowly with both defenses holding as both teams went three and out. Late in the first quarter, a pass interference call got Minnesota a 30-yard field goal. When San Francisco got the ball back, they put together a drive but it stalled and they kicked a field goal. A spectacular 45-yard run by the Minnesota star runningback got them in the red zone. Under pressure, the veteran quarterback threw a pass the defensive back tipped in the air and was grabbed by the Safety who ran it back for a 103-yard touchdown, in the play of the game. With the half running out and Minnesota in the hurry-up, San Francisco again tipped the ball, this time by a lineman, for an interception at the 40. Three plays later, Reilly found Oliva in the end zone for six. 14 points in less than two minutes at the half.

Color man: You know, I got to agree with Tony Reilly and it’s no secret, when this team is clicking, like San Francisco is right now, they are number one.

Announcer: You got a defense that’s running back 103 yard interceptions and there are just too many weapons that Tony Reilly can use and for the Minnesota Defense to cover. That’s how you got single coverage on one of the best receivers in football.

In the locker room just before they went out on the field for the second half, Reilly gathered the team around him. “We’ve got 30 minutes of football left. If you think they’re tucking their tail between their legs and letting us have it, think again. There is no quit in that team. We’ve got to go out and take it from them. Thirty minutes to the dance, boys. He said slowly and deliberately, Focus, Focus, Focus. They’re going to come out throwing the ball and try and loosen up Lewis. D-line, you got to keep pressure on the QB.” He looked slowly around at everyone on the team, “Let’s go kick their ass.”

Minnesota took their first possession for a field goal, but that was as close as they were going to get for the rest of the day. The San Francisco defense took over the game. Dropped four times and hurried countless others, the Minnesota QB was limping at the end of the game. He’d been beaten up and bloodied. San Francisco put up 10 more points and then slowed the game, burning the clock with the run. When Minnesota moved up to play run, Reilly would stretch them again down field. San Francisco was in the Championship.

Chapter 40

Sitting in the Porsche with Roger, all I could think of was how tired I felt. This mess really sucked before, but now it sucked more. “We have to go see Tierney,” Roger said.

“Are you running the show now?”

“I think we should bring the Calvary.”

“Not a good idea.”

“You’re worried about your client relationship?”

“Yea.”

“You’re an idiot. He shot his own player. Not only is it murder, but it’s morally reprehensible,” Roger said.

“You coming?” I asked.

“Duhhhhh,” he said. I hate when he does that.

“You know the odds are 93% on him,” Roger said. “Lydia didn’t do it. Call the Cops.”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s an asshole.”

“Don’t use that language.” We looked at each other and laughed.

I sighed, “Let’s go.”

Chapter 41

Tierney met us at the door. I didn’t see anyone else around his opulent, isolated mansion on the side of a hill in Atherton. He greeted us warmly and showed us through a spacious, beautifully decorated house, into an office with a breathtaking view. The place had to be $15 million. I said, “It’s a beautiful house, sir.” We sat down and Roger got out his netbook and started typing.

“So, what’s new and exciting boys? Figure this out yet?”

“After talking to Lydia Isackson, again, we’ve got a problem we need to discuss with you,” I said.

He cocked his head and with a puzzled look he said, “Yes?”

“Mrs. Isackson has admitted to an affair between herself and Tony Reilly.”

“Ummm, that is awkward,” said Tierney. I hope we can keep that under wraps. I would hate to besmirch Tony Reilly’s legacy or Lydia’s reputation for that matter.”

“That’s not the problem I’m worried about,” I said. “The problem is that she was also having an affair with you. That would seem to implicate you in Tony Reilly’s death. There would be motive and since you knew Tony was returning the other night, it would also give you opportunity.” Tierney didn’t change his expression and just stared at us.”

Roger looked up from his computer and said, “Mr. Tierney. Why did you do it? You murdered the best quarterback in professional football, your own player,” he hesitated, “…for pussy?”

Tierney considered the question and shifted in his seat. “Smart boy, too smart, the kid’s a pain in the ass,” he said to me.

“Tell me about it,” I said and rolled my eyes. I hadn’t been expecting fucking Roger to jump in here.

“Well that didn’t take you guys long to figure out.” He said it casually. “I didn’t think it would.” This guy was admitting to us he had killed Tony Reilly. “Yeah, Lydia is one of those once in a lifetime women. I couldn’t just let her go.”

“What the fuck, Tierney,” Roger said, “Why hire us to investigate? Did you want to get caught?”

“I had to know where I stood in any investigation. If Mullins could find out, then eventually others could.” He paused, “I didn’t think I’d get away with it. It was crazy. Lydia was the problem.”

“Did you ever think you were going to get away with it?” Roger said disdainfully.

“You know what Roger, for about an hour, I thought I might.” He then picked up the silenced pistol out of his top drawer.

“I told you,” said Roger to me.

“Don’t give me that “I told you”, you little shit,” I said to him.

I said, “Mr. Tierney, please, I came to you to help you out of this. Don’t continue with this foolishness. How long are they going take to figure that out? We might even be able to make this all go away. You have to trust me, Mr. Tierney.”

“Make this go away? What do you have a time machine, Mullins?”

“I thought you did it. That’s why I called Tonelli and told him what I expected was going to happen. I said you’d be coming to turn yourself in…” I was grasping at straws here, “for accident of passion.”

“An accident of passion? I shot him in the back of the head.”

Roger’s shot hit him in the side of the head. The bullet threw him sideways. Tierney’s gun fired and the bullet went into the wall above my head. Roger and I just stood there as the sound of the gun rang in my ears. “Where’d you get that? Is that Velma’s?” We were looking at the lifeless body of Tierney, blank eyes open with a bullet wound in the temple.

“Well it belonged to Irv. It’s technically Velma’s.” I just stood there with my mind racing, speechless. Roger said, “You’re not going to take the fall on this, I shot him. I know you want to protect me, but forget about it. We’ll tell them exactly the way it happened. There is only one way to do this. Forensics will show I did it. He was a murderer about to shoot you. I had no choice. He even took a shot at you.”

He was a step ahead of me, as usual. I should have said, I’m taking it. I looked at him and saw the determination on his face. This was not going to be a fight I could win. “Put the gun on the floor.” He had been still holding it. “Okay,” and I sat back down on the couch. “Call the cops.” Fucking, Roger. “I had it under control. He was probably going to turn the gun on himself.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Roger said. He was going to kill both of us. He was nuts.”

I sat back down. Put my hands in back of my head. Closed my eyes and tried to think about good wine, a hot tub, the sun setting across a vineyard and a beautiful woman.

Fuck me.

Chapter 42

The Championship featured New England and San Francisco. Both teams had handily beaten their playoff rivals and were clearly the best teams in football. East Coast versus West Coast and all the clichés that are brought to mind were dragged out by the press. New England featured a veteran quarterback and a defense that had got them there. San Francisco had the quarterback with the hot hand and a defense that had just gotten better throughout the season. Vegas had SF a three-point favorite.

SF fumbled the opening kickoff and 3 plays later and only 2 minutes into the game, New England had a 7 point lead. SF marched the ball across midfield after the kick, but the drive stalled and they punted. New England then drove back down the field in a ten-play drive and punched the ball in to go up 14. New England had been flawless and SF was showing playoff jitters. Reilly was getting pressured on every play and was missing his targets. On third and eight from his own 36, he brought the pass down, ducked under the pressure and took off for 18 yards. Two plays later, he faked it to Best and bootlegged the ball for another 12 yards, a planned play. He threw out to Best in the flat for 8 yards. As New England moved in to cover the underneath stuff and the run, he found Terrence Brown in a crossing pattern to the seven. Robinson wasted no time punching the ball in with 3 players hanging on him, 14-7. The teams traded the ball back and forth on the next possessions. New England had a big interference call, but the drive stalled and they kicked a field goal. With time running out in the half, Reilly again scrambled for big yardage with his receivers covered. Getting hit hard running out of bounds, and the refs tacked on another 15 for unnecessary roughness. With 8 seconds to go at the 12, Reilly hit Oliva who couldn’t quite get the ball over the goal line before he ran out of bounds, stopping the clock. With 2 seconds left in the half at the one, instead of taking the easy 3 points, Reilly turned to the coach and put his hand up like a traffic cop stopping the kicking team from coming on to the field. Reilly faked the handoff to Robinson and ran the ball in through an open hole on the other side of the line for 17-14 at the half.

The analysis at half time talked about Reilly having the green light to run for the first time all year and what that meant in the second half. The San Francisco locker room was calm and confident. They had made some mistakes but knew they could win this one. The coach’s final words before coming out from the long half time, “Thirty minutes of football left, boys. Hold onto the football and this game is ours.”

New England took over at the 34-yard line and methodically marched down the field and scored with a one yard plunge by their running back, pushing the lead back to 10 again. On play action with 5 receivers in the pattern, Reilly hit Oliva on a comeback route. On the next play, he again hit Oliva. Two passes in a row, and San Francisco was in the red zone. Best took a flat pass for 12 more. Reilly faked a run up the middle turned and again took off with the ball, broke a tackle and put the ball over the line with an outstretched hand before being pushed out of bounds at the flag. On review the replay clearly showed the ball going over the line and the call on the field was reversed for a touchdown.

New England drove the ball steadily downfield but stalled at midfield and punted. San Francisco started inside their 10. They drove with a ball control offense. Stretching the field with long pass attempts followed by short passes and runs. A 22-yard run by Best got them to their own 45. Reggie Robinson came in to spell Best and added 17 more on the next play. Reilly had been operating in the shotgun with a hurry-up, no huddle offense that had been so successful all year. This was tiring out the New England defense. Reilly caught them offside with a quick snap when New England tried to change personnel. With the defense out of position, Reilly found his Tight End all alone in a defensive mix-up for another 25 yards. The drive stalled and San Francisco took the field goal at the end of the third quarter with the score tied. You could see Reilly uncharacteristically rallying his offense on the sidelines.

New England took the kick and marched 70 yards, but had to settle for a field goal. The teams traded the ball back and forth. New England again started a time consuming drive, but at the 12 yard line, Matt Benson made the defensive play of the game, stripping the ball from the runner with SF recovering with under 4 minutes to go, New England up three. On 3rd and eight, Reilly found his tight end for 18. Best found daylight through the line twice for runs of 9 and 11 to put San Francisco at midfield at the two minute warning.

A pass interference call got San Francisco a first down at the 33. With an empty backfield and five receivers in the pattern, New England playing nickel defense, Reilly brought the pass down and took off again for 10 yards. Playing hurry-up, San Francisco quickly got to the line and hit Oliva for seven more. He then hit his tight end for eight. They were now on the 15 yard line, first down, one minute on the clock. Reilly called time and slowly strolled over to his coach. He smiled at his coach and took a drink from the water bottle. The TV camera stayed on him in close up before going to the booth.

Announcer: Ice is on his game.

Color man: He certainly is. They got to be talking about the clock here. Do you take a shot now if it’s there or use up more time and not give New England another chance? I think you take it here and play defense with a touchdown needed to beat you.

Reilly said to his coach, “Too much time. Let’s give it to Reggie.” They gave it to Robinson and he took it to the eight and New England has to call their last time out. 2nd and two, Robinson got the first down at the four. Reilly got his team quickly to the line, handed it off to Robinson for a gain of one and San Francisco called its last time out with 20 seconds left. Reilly studied the scoreboard as he walked to the sideline. He got the passing play from the offensive coordinator in the booth.

“Ground the ball if it’s not there,” was all the coach said to him on the field. It wasn’t. Reilly threw to Robinson, but a linebacker got a hand on the ball. Clock stopped with five seconds to go. Kick the field goal and send it in to overtime or win the game right here? There was never any question. Reilly again spread the offense, faked it to Robinson, spun and sprinted for the sideline. Reilly dove into the end zone as a linebacker made contact. Stretching the ball over the line as he went in for his third touchdown.

Game.

Epilogue

I am sitting in a lounge chair with Liz, back at Scottie’s place five days later, drinking a glass of Zin and trying to put all the bullshit from the last few days behind me. The sad funeral service for Tony Reilly had been televised. There was a big crowd outside of Grace Cathedral as a Who’s Who of celebrity and sports figures came to pay their last respects. Roger and I sat that one out but Liz and I have been together the rest of the time. I kissed her neck and she snuggled closer to me.

Solving the crime and killing Oscar Tierney was bigger than the “Butcher”. The difference was, this time, we were ready. We told it exactly like it happened and no one had a problem with it, except fucking Special Agent Nelson, who wanted to take Roger and me in. I just said I wasn’t talking to the FBI and they could kiss my ass. Nelson was ready to cuff us and walk us out into the press when cooler heads prevailed. That was after I told Bob Forbes what happened and that I planned to go out and make an immediate statement to the press and highlight the complete lack of cooperation and investigative effort shown by the FBI in this whole thing. Forbes got it and called off his dog. Two hours later we were home and packing. Roger wanted no part of this.

“Not doing Leno tonight, Roge?”

“No thank you.”

“You’d be huge. You can tell them how you put a bullet into the side of his head and his brain spurted out. Make clever little jokes.” He gets really quiet when you’re bustin’ his little cahones.

I sipped my wine and thanked whoever was above; it was over. “What are you reading, Roger?” He had his netbook out and was reading, sitting in a lounge chair. I had to get him out of town. We’d gone to the mattresses.

“Josef Stalin, wow, if ever a guy needed a bullet in the side of the head…You know he was responsible for killing at least 35 million of his own people?”

“Oh, here we go,” I whispered in Liz’s ear.

“Just going by the numbers, this guy was close to the worst person in the history of the world. He put another 18 million in slave labor camps! Most of the time, these people weren’t even involved in any political movement or connected with the government, they were just exterminated.”

“I think most people think Hitler was the number one murderer,” I said.

“Hitler had a body count of only around 12 million.”

“Ahhh, just a piker,” I said.

“But, Jolting Joe Stalin ruled for 30 years with a reign of terror. What a piece of work. Right up until his last days, he kept at it. He was a psychopath’s psychopath.”

“Where does he get these books?” asked Liz.

“Number one, murderous piece of shit, has to be Mao Zedong,” continued Roger, “70 million of his own people.”

“Wow, that’s impressive,” I said.

“He used to say all the time, ‘Too lenient, not killing enough’. You know what the funny thing is, Mr. Mullins?”

“No, Roge.”

“Stalin and Mao are still revered in their countries. I don’t get it.”

“Maybe that’s where Hitler went wrong, not killing enough of his own.”

“When you control the story, you can make it read anyway you like,” said Liz.

“These three were the worst in terms of numbers, but they didn’t do the actual killing themselves. They had people doing it for them,” said Roger. For sheer bloodthirsty sadism, you can’t overlook Vlad the Impaler. He was also known as Dracula. He got his Impaler name from his favorite method of execution. He would have wooden stakes inserted into the intestines of his victims.”

“Okay, that’s enough for me. I’m going in to lie down. I’m exhausted,” said Liz. “I’ve had all the murder I can handle for awhile.”

“You don’t want to hear more about Vlad?” I grabbed her hand as she got up.”

“Later.”

“I’ll be in a few minutes,” I said as she walked off.

“He’s another who went after his own people,” Roger said.

“And you know what, Mr. Mullins? Romanians think of him as a freedom fighter, a great warrior.”

I shook my head and looked over at Roger, “Are you done?”

“Yea, the three worst people in the world plus one.”

I looked at him and sipped my wine. “How you doing?”

He looked up from the computer, “I’m okay.”

“You worry me. You’ve got significantly less remorse than I had.”

He thought about for a moment and said, matter of factly, “I’ve killed a lot of people online.”

I laughed at him. “I gotta remember that one,” shaking my head.

“What’s going on at work?”

“It’s busy, lots of interesting opportunities.”

“Like what?” I didn’t want to go back to work.

“Oh, I don’t know.” I watched as he typed and changed screens. “There is a Formula One race car team that wants us to investigate an issue.”

“What’s going on?”

“Don’t know. They won’t say. Offer is a fat consulting fee and first class tickets.”

“First class tickets to where?”

“Madrid, Spain.”

“I know where Madrid is, dickhead.”

“I know you’re geographically challenged. 6 million people, capitol of the country. It’s a beautiful city, rich in history.”

“Soccer and bull fighting," I said.

“They call it football.”

“Why us?” I asked.

“Might as well get the best. Those Formula One teams burn through $500 million a year.”

“You checking it out?” I asked him.

“I sent them a contract with ridiculous terms but they seem to want us.”

I finished my wine and said to him, “When were you going to tell me about it?”

“When a decision had to be made. You know, we should re-brand the company into a security consulting company. Easy to sell contracts to sports people.”

“What are our terms with Spain?”

“Do you really want to discuss the negotiations of our terms?”

I thought about it and let it go. I don’t really give a shit.

“Terms include a ticket for Liz.” He looked up at me. “She speaks Spanish.” He was typing on the computer, half paying attention to me. “They want us tomorrow. I think I can put them off for a couple of days.”

I got up and started for the house. “There is food in the kitchen. I’ll make dinner later.”

“Okay.”

I opened the door and looked back at him, buried in the computer. “We’ve been lucky,” I said.

“I’ve been lucky. I’ll be lucky again. Betty Davis said that." He looked over at me. He thought for a moment, “Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity…You want a few more?”

I walked into the house and made my way to the back bedroom. Liz was naked under the sheets. I took off my clothes and slipped into bed with her. She spooned up against me.

“You going to impale me, Vlad?”

“This won’t hurt.” I pulled her into me. She let out a little passionate groan.

We laid there for a minute before I whispered into her ear, “Ever been to Spain?”

She hesitated and then quietly sang to me in her incredible voice:

“Well, I’ve never been to Spain

But I kinda like the music...

Say the ladies are insane there

And they sure know how to use it;

They don’t abuse it

Never gonna lose it

I can’t refuse it.”

THE END

###

About the author:

After growing up in the Boston area and living in the San Francisco Bay Area, Pete Bowen now lives in Phuket, Thailand. He walks a Golden Retriever along Kamala Beach every day.

He can be contacted at pete44@gmail.com

Table of Contents

QB1