Goldengirl

‘Not that. That’s two weeks away. No, I figure she picked up a virus. Tuesday she complained to me that the four hundred had felt wrong. Her limbs went heavy on her. I tried to tell her it was understandable after two hard races, but she insisted I report it to Serafin.’

‘Did you?’

‘The same evening. Remember when I came up here that evening Sternberg was telling stories?’

Dryden nodded. ‘Serafin and Lee left the room with you.’

‘They diagnosed an anxiety condition. Said she’d be okay next morning. She was — until she ran again. After the 200 Semi, the heavy sensation returned. When she told me that, I saw trouble ahead. I mean, it’s wild enough planning to beat America’s best in two different events in the space of a half hour, without going to the mark less than 100 per cent fit. Man, I suffered through those races.’

‘I’m sure. We all sweated,’ said Dryden. ‘But she qualified even though it was touch and go in the last. If you’re right about the virus, it’s unlikely we’ll have the same scare in Moscow.’

‘Yeah, but we don’t know for sure,’ said Klugman. ‘I’m no physician. This is just a hunch I have.’

‘It sounds reasonable,’ said Dryden. ‘Serafin should be able to confirm it. If we asked him to check her over—’

‘I already did,’ said Klugman. ‘That’s why I’m here this morning.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He’ll get around to it sometime tomorrow evening, after we get to the new training camp.’ Klugman’s tone left no doubt how he regarded that.

‘Tomorrow? That’s too late,’ said Dryden. ‘If it’s a bug, she could have shaken it off by then. He needs to check her today.’

‘Try telling him that,’ said Klugman.

‘What’s his objection?’

‘He figures there are too many pressmen around. He doesn’t want people getting the idea Goldengirl is sick. That would tarnish the image, he says. We have to wait till the spotlight is off her. When he came out with that, I lost my cool. I told him I don’t give a fuck for the image. Screw the media — I’ve given two years of my life to this project. I’m entitled to know if she’s liable to fold up in Moscow.’

‘You’re not the only one,’ said Dryden. ‘I’m damned sure the consortium would feel they have the same entitlement. Do you really suppose this could happen at the Olympics?’

‘Look, I’m not clairvoyant. All I know is something was wrong yesterday. Don’t tell me it was too much racing, like the papers say, because I know that’s a lie. She trained for three hard runs. Any day she can reel off five or six two hundreds — fast ones — and then a four hundred inside fifty-two. She should have beaten records in the Finals, not dragged her ass into third place.’

‘She won two,’ Dryden pointed out. ‘Let’s keep it in perspective. That four hundred was the only race she lost, out of twelve in the Trials.’

‘She damned near lost the two hundred,’ said Klugman. ‘You want it in perspective. Okay. Goldengirl ran that in twenty-three flat. On Sunday in the Karl Marx Stadium, Berlin, Ursula Krüll took the East German title in just outside twenty-two. One second may not sound much to you, but it’s an awful lot of space between two sprinters. All right, mister, you’re the PR guy in this operation, so I don’t see you telling Goldengirl to quit acting the showgirl and get up here for a physical, but someone should.’

The press interest in Goldine had really got Klugman’s hackles up.

‘I think it might be arranged without interfering with the publicity,’ said Dryden. ‘After all, Dr. Serafin is her father. He’s entitled to some privacy if he visits her at the hostel. He could check her there. The main problem is convincing him it can’t be put off till tomorrow. If I canvassed support in the consortium, it might be managed. Will you leave it to me?’

‘I have no choice,’ Klugman said without much gratitude. ‘He wouldn’t take it from me.’

Dryden didn’t lightly volunteer for another confrontation with Serafin. Goldine’s slightly jaded running on the final day of the Trials hadn’t bothered him once it was confirmed she had qualified for Moscow in her three events. With two U.S. records from earlier in the week, the Goldengirl idea had enough going for it now to justify trying it out on big business. That was all that had concerned him, until Klugman told him about this heaviness in the limbs. Klugman was too obsessive for his own good, or Goldine’s, but he knew about track. He had taken this seriously enough to report it to Serafin the evening it cropped up. Despite the way Serafin and Lee had dismissed it, events had come very near to justifying Klugman. He was right; it had to be investigated, and it was obvious there should be no delay. This had to be discussed with Serafin.

The chance came at lunch, the last occasion the consortium would come together in Eugene. Dick Armitage was leaving for a tournament in San Francisco immediately after, and Sternberg, Valenti and Cobb had taxis coming from three o’clock on. Serafin and his team were obliged to stay another night, as Goldine had exclusives lined up well into the evening.