The Three Dollar Phoenix - Walt Sautter (best way to read e books .txt) 📗

also knew he couldn’t expose her to the dangers, he was sure awaited him. He was on his own alright.
Carefully, he began to piece together a plan. A plan that was admittedly risky or maybe even foolhardy, he conceded to himself, but still far preferable to safe inaction.
He called the stadium’s public relations department was connected with the office of a Mr. Art Gilrain. He was the director of half time activities. All scheduling and selection of events were arranged through him.
The Cedar Hills High School marching band from Cedar Hills, Ohio would perform this Sunday. The band leader’s name was John Suter. He would direct the band. Ed scribbled down several notes as he subtly questioned Gilrain’s willing secretary. He folded the note and placed it in his shirt pocket as he hung up the phone.
Then, he sat quietly, realizing that his next step would be the most difficult one, that of summoning the courage to carry out his plan.

Chapter XIX

Sunday was a cool, sunny day with clear skies and the leafy smell of late autumn in the air. Ed looked out of the window approvingly as he stepped into his clothes.
Melinda nodded patiently reaffirming his plan while he described it to her for a third time as they dressed. She knew that the whole thing bordered on insanity but attempts to dissuade him would be pointless. She just whispered a silent prayer for his safety as he outlined the details once more.
“That looks fine on you” she said, standing back to admire him as he finished speaking.
“Yeah, looks real good. It should do the trick” he said, brushing the lint from the shoulder of the gray blazer he wore.
“Looks very official” he said with final approval.
He looked at his watch. They’d have just enough time for breakfast and still make to the stadium on time.
The towering, gray stadium walls loomed over the horizon and Ed felt a cramp in the pit of his stomach as they moved closer. It was only a matter of hours now. He swallowed hard and forced the rising swell in his throat back down.
In several minutes, they reached the parking lot. Ed lifted his raincoat from the seat and carefully placed it over the black doctor’s bag he had tucked between his arm and chest. He reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew his ticket to reassure himself of its presence there. Then, he replaced it and reached over and grasped Melinda’s hand. He looked into her eyes.
“Look, I don’t know how this will turn out but you know I have to do it and you know I love you” he said and drew her hand to his lips.
Her instinct was to plead with him again to reconsider the consequences, but she’d been through it all before in vain. She recalled his gentle chidings of her selfishness and his condemnations of moral weakness for those who would turn their backs on wrong doing. She knew he was right, but if she could, she would gladly exchange his virtue for his safety. She sadly realized that no words could make that happen and fate would have its way.
She looked back at him, unable to speak with bittersweet tears slowly streaming down her face. The tender warmth of silent reply radiated over him. It emitted both love and respect from which he drew strength.
He left the car and walked to the gate without once glancing back. Once past the ticket collector he made his way to the main office at the far corner of the entrance hall. His knock on the door was answered by a big man wearing a bright green sport jacket. He stood filling the doorway with the lights in the background shining from his jet black hair.
“Can I help you?” he asked in a stern, mechanical sounding voice.
“My name is Doctor Adolph Sloan” Ed began, reaching for his identification.
“Do you have a Mr. John Suter here today? I believe he is with the half time band from Cedar Hills.”
The man carefully perused the card Ed had handed to him.
“What’s the problem?” he asked as he gave the card back to Ed.
“His doctor in Ohio called me. His wife is very upset. He’s supposed to take these pills daily and he left them at home. Evidently, he’s a pretty forgetful guy. But anyway, she couldn’t get him at his hotel and she’s worried that he’s not taking them like he should” replied Ed as he withdrew a small prescription bottle from his pocket. and held it up for display.
“The man’s got a bad heart and the excitement of the performance could be a problem for him if he doesn’t have them. I picked them up as soon as I got the call but I’ve got to get them to him immediately” he added with an air of urgency in his voice.
“Wait a minute.”
The door closed and Ed stood counting the endless minutes until it reopened. A different man, older, with a much less threatening appearance greeted him.
“Doctor Sloan, I’m sorry to leave you standing in the hallway but Mark’s got his orders. A lot of kooks around, you know what I mean.
Can’t let every Tom, Dick and Harry just walk in. Come in. My name’s Art Gilrain.”
Ed stepped inside the door hesitatingly.
“It’s quite urgent that I see Mr. Suter” Ed repeated.
“There’s not going to be any problem, is there?” asked Gilrain anxiously.
“I’ll send someone to get him right away.”
“No” Ed quickly stammered.
“It would be better if I go to see him.”
He knew that Suter would know nothing about his supposed heart condition.
“That way I can take a quick look at him while I’m here. His wife asked for that and I said I would and it probably would be better” he added with obvious concern.
“I don’t want to generate any unnecessary anxiety. I can keep it low key and not embarrass him. As a matter of fact I’ll stay with him to be sure there’s no problem” Ed volunteered.
Gilrain paused for a moment.
“You’re the doctor. I guess you’re right “ and he called Mark to escort Ed to Suter’s location.
When they reached the correct section, Mark pointed out Suter at the lower end, close to the field.
He was a middle aged man with long gray flecked hair, peaking out from the back of his band cap. His round face wore a thick mustache, also flecked in gray. The reflection from his bright red uniform gave him a ruddy complexion consistent with his portly shape.
Ed silently rehearsed what he was about to say as he walked down the aisle towards him. He’d have to stay clam and make it work. He was too far now to have anything go wrong.
He approached Suter presenting as an official air as he could.
“Mr. Suter”
Suter looked up acknowledging his address.
“I’m Ed Bennett, one of Mr. Gilrain’s assistants. I don’t want to alarm you but there’s been a little trouble” he began calmly.
“We had a crank phone call prior to today’s game. It happens now and then. The call had nothing to do with you or the band and you’re in no danger. Let me assure you we’ve never had any problems in the past when this type of thing has happened.
Mr. Gilain has asked me to stay with you and your group throughout the game and during the half time show just as routine precaution.”
“There s no need to mention this to any of the others. The only reason I’m telling this to you is so my presence doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”
“Are you sure there’s no danger?” asked Suter, anxiously.
“None at all. This is just a routine procedure” replied Ed.
“We’ve done this before and nothing’s ever happened. It’s like a high school bomb scare, routine.
I’m surprised Mr. Gilrain didn’t mention this as a possibility before because it does happen. But I guess he didn’t want to cause any upset unless it was absolutely necessary.”
Suter seemed more tranquil after Ed’s lengthy reassurances but remained obviously uneasy. He continued to quiz about security at the stadium and Ed likewise continued to supply unfaltering answers that eased Suter’s misgivings.
As the game began and half time rapidly approached, Ed searched himself for answers that could help to satisfy his own misgivings. He knew, that in a very few minutes, he would be inextricably entangled in the consequences of his soon to be committed act and there would be no possibility of retreat.
He watched the score board intently, with little concern for the score. Only the mesmerizing flickers of the clock, as it counted away the seconds fixed his gaze. He could feel the cold wetness in his armpits and the rapid beat of his pulse accelerate with each flash of the numbers.
Finally, it read zero. The shrill shriek of the referee’s whistles echoed from the stadium walls, ending the first half. The crowd roared and rose to its feet as the teams left the field.
Suter motioned to his charges who stood in unison and began readying themselves and their instruments. Ed lifted his bag from beneath the raincoat where it was lying and tucking it under one arm, followed close behind Suter.
Within seconds they moved through the gate leading to the field and marched towards the end zone. He stopped at the edge of the field, just beside the goal post and waited.
“Well folks, we’ve had a great first half. It looks like the Giants are in their usual fine form” expounded the announcer with vehemence rivaling that of an evangelist.
“And now we’ve got a fabulous half time show from Cedar Hills, Ohio” he added while motioning to one of the cameramen at the far corner of the broadcast booth.
“What do you think of the game so far, Charlie?” he continued without awaiting an answer.
“Folks, let me introduce a man who needs no introduction to most of you, Charlie Rhodes, All Pro two times and a man who helped make the Giants what they are today.
Charlie’s our newest regular addition to the pregame show. That comes up right before every game starting next week. We can also expect to see him up here with us more and more as the season goes on.
What you think of that first half?” he repeated.
This time he paused for Charlie’s response.
“First, let me thank you and everybody here at the stadium for giving me this opportunity. I’m sure all the people out there know how hard it’s been for me these last few weeks. There for a while it looked like I was done with football on account of my knee injury, but now you’ve changed all that for me and I really appreciate it.”
“You’re a real one hundred percenter” interjected the announcer.
“Thank you, Ray” Charlie continued.
“I plan on doing the same kind of job up here with you that I tried to do down on the field.”
“We all know what that means. The fans are in for a treat and we’re sure looking forward to it” replied Ray and he shook Charlie’s hand enthusiastically as the cameras cut away to commercial.
Suddenly, their attention was drawn to the field below. The band had finished its performance and was marching out