Goldengirl

‘Who cares? It’s still a great idea,’ said Sternberg. ‘We can find someone else. No trouble.’

‘It’s too obvious,’ said Dryden. ‘We don’t want this to look like a publicity stunt, even if it is. These ideas might work after the Games, but not before.’

Sternberg wasn’t finished yet. ‘Maybe we could use her speed someway,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Yeah, she spots some kid stepping off the sidewalk and runs across and grabs him just before a three-ton truck squashes him flat. That ought to make the front page.’

‘Just tell me how you stage an incident like that,’ said Dryden, growing impatient. ‘How do you synchronize a small child with a three-ton truck in a street in Los Angeles as Goldine walks by? And even if you managed it, do you think the press would be taken in by that kind of stunt? They’re not so dumb.’

‘Okay, wise guy. Tell us your idea.’

‘I’m against stunts,’ said Dryden. ‘Look, the interest in Goldine is there already. You must have seen the papers today. Already she’s been interviewed by two TV networks and God knows how many radio stations. The magazine feature writers are with her most of today. Two weeks from now, she’ll be getting known to a wide public. It takes a little time for the thing to gather momentum. About then, the stories will be ready for some reinforcement, but nothing phony. What the media will want are new pictures, extra information — how she’s training for Moscow, what she feels about the opposition, how her life has changed since she got to be an Olympic hope, and so on. I’m for playing it straight.’

‘Dryden is right,’ said Cobb. ‘She’ll be giving them the sensational stuff in Moscow. Our business now is to lay foundations. We have to get her established as a marketable personality. We want people to see her on their screens next month and recognize her. We want them to know a few heartwarming details from the magazines: that she was the kid whose mother drowned saving her from the sea, that she’s a novice taking on athletes with years of experience in track and that she does it for fun, and for America — isn’t that wonderful?’

By degrees, and grudgingly, Sternberg and Valenti backed down. The pre-Moscow period would be used for image-building, not shooting for headlines. The Dryden-Cobb alliance was proving effective.

Toward the end of the afternoon, sometime after the consortium had dispersed, Serafin entered the Jacaranda lobby. Dryden was waiting for him.

‘You examined her?’

‘I did,’ said Serafin, ‘— as well as I could in the conditions. It wasn’t so thorough as the physicals I give her at the camp.’

‘Did you form an opinion?’

‘She seems to have picked up a mild virus infection of some kind. There’s definite inflammation of the throat. Nothing serious, but enough to account for the quicker onset of fatigue yesterday. I’ve put her on an antibiotic. There’s no reason why she shouldn’t get through the rest of her interviews.’

‘That’s a relief,’ said Dryden. ‘Things still look good for Moscow, then?’

‘But of course.’

‘And you managed to get in without the press jumping to conclusions?’

Serafin gave a smile. ‘Yes, as it happens, there were no questions. There was just one photographer outside, with a young woman from Cosmopolitan, I think. They seemed to recognize me, and made no objection when I went in or came out.’

‘Cosmopolitan,’ said Dryden, making a mental calculation. ‘And you went in soon after three. At that rate, she has three more interviews scheduled. She could be through by six. I’d like a session with her myself this evening, if that can be slotted in. There are some details I must check before I start the rounds of the advertising executives. Funny the small things they want to know that can clinch a contract — the pitch of a voice, the shape of the hands. I’ve known a twenty-thousand-dollar deal to hinge on the hairiness of a tennis player’s arms.’ He laughed. ‘No problem with Goldine, but I need to have the answers ready.’

Serafin twisted his mouth into something like a smile. ‘So you want more time with her?’

‘More?’ repeated Dryden.

‘Come, come,’ said Serafin. ‘Do you reckon I have forgotten the five hours you spent with her in San Diego? Are you actually asking me to believe you need to be reminded of the shape of her hands? Let’s be candid, Mr. Dryden. You’re a resourceful man, or I wouldn’t have hired you. You submitted her to a very thorough interrogation in San Diego. By the end of it, there wasn’t much you didn’t know about me or Goldengirl. And now there are two more points you need to check with her: one is that I actually carried out that physical this afternoon, and the other — unless you have it already from another source — is the location of the new training camp. To save you the trouble, I’ll tell you now that it’s Thomas Jefferson College on the shores of Lake Erie, a mile or so west of Cleveland. The director happens to be an old friend from my postgraduate days at Yale.’

‘I thought you weren’t telling anyone that.’