AC05 - Death Mask (15 page)

Anya had to smile. The excitement was infectious. Near the bus, Ethan Rye stood, hands shoved into the pockets of a hooded leather jacket.

‘Hey.’ He smiled broadly. ‘Glad you could make it. Hope you’re hungry ’cause they have some of the city’s finest upstairs.’

Anya felt her stomach gurgle. She hadn’t eaten lunch and now her hunger was catching up with her.

Ethan led her by the elbow towards the entrance. Once under cover, her ears began to ache. The cacophony from the throngs lining up to enter the stadium was almost earsplitting. Bypassing the queues, Ethan led her to a VIP entrance. They made their way up an escalator to the third level and entered the foyer of the Club Bar and Grill.

‘This is one of the best places in town,’ Ethan said.

Anya studied some of the framed images of ice hockey players, basketballers and even boxers on the purple-padded walls. Above them, sports scores scrolled by in bright red lights. A wood and glass cabinet containing a multitude of silver crystal trophies took prominence. Art Deco wall lighting complemented timber panelling and white linen tablecloths. It had the feel of an intimate, old-fashioned club, but instead of cigar smoke and old men complaining, the smell of warm bread and garlic along with the sound of animated conversations filled the air.

‘Gotta love this. You can do business over a great meal and never miss a result.’

The maître d’ greeted the pair. ‘Welcome back, Mr Rye. Doctor Rosseter phoned to say he’s running a few minutes late.’

‘Thanks, Frank. We might order anyway.’

‘I’ll have Bridget see to you immediately.’

He showed them to a table by the wall with a view of the room. ‘This is where the celebrities hang out to avoid the masses, along with team managers and some pretty high-powered executives. That guy over there,’ he nodded towards a table on the other side of the room, ‘the one with the blue sweater round his shoulders, is a high flyer at Nike.’

A man in a Knicks cap and jacket worked his way to their table. He shook hands with Catcher and gave him a hug with his free arm. Anya tried not to stare, but despite the cap pulled low, she recognised the visitor. Leonardo DiCaprio reached across to shake her hand. ‘Nice to meet you. Hey, have a great night. And stay in touch, man,’ he added, patting Ethan on the shoulder before he moved on.

Not one for being starstruck, Anya nevertheless couldn’t help be a little impressed by the company Ethan kept. She wondered what sort of work he had done for celebrities, or whether the contact was merely social. The waitress appeared and smiled broadly as she presented them with menus.

‘Would you like pre-dinner drinks?’

‘I’ll try a glass of one of your Californian dry whites, thanks.’

‘And the usual for you, Catcher?’

‘Am I that predictable?’

Bridget smiled and explained the menu; the descriptions of each dish made Anya’s mouth water. Bridget gave them a few minutes to decide and brushed Ethan’s back with her hand as she laid their serviettes in their laps.

A woman’s laugh made Anya glance at an adjacent table. She thought she recognised Rosie O’Donnell and had to admit to herself the experience was exciting.

‘This place is enormous,’ she said, ‘and there’s a real buzz, even in here.’

‘Twenty thousand screaming fans. It never gets old. That’s one thing about New Yorkers.’ He chomped on a breadstick. ‘They’re good at supporting their teams. Despite what people say about how isolating it can feel in this city, the people sure do pull together for a good cause like tonight’s charity game.’

Anya had heard reports of incredible acts of kindness and unity following the 9/11 terrorist attacks. The images of volunteers pooling together stayed with her. ‘How long have you lived here?’

‘It’s been my base for over ten years now. Before that, I was a bit of a nomad.’

‘What’s your favourite thing about this city?’

Ethan stared at the lit candle on the table. ‘You could never be bored here. So much is always going on, and you can take your pick of sports. Hockey, football, baseball, basketball. I’ve worked for a number of the teams over the years. One thing about the place, there’s never a shortage of the unusual to keep you coming back for more.’

Bridget arrived with the drinks and filled their table glasses with water. ‘Are you ready to order?’

Anya went first. ‘I’ll have the sashimi tuna followed by the roasted Amish chicken breast, please.’

‘And I’ll start with the crab cake, followed by the sirloin steak.’

‘I’ll make sure it’s medium rare, just the way you like it,’ Bridget added, and disappeared.

Anya took a sip of water and had to remind herself this was work, and that even though they had spent two days together, Ethan was yet to discuss anything personal. The relationship was strictly professional. Still, it intrigued her that he seemed to know a lot of people wherever they went, yet he also dealt easily with strangers, including her. She suspected he was the kind of person everyone knew but no one knew much about. Against her nature, she decided to ask. ‘What range of work do sports teams normally want from a private investigator?’

‘Anything from keeping tabs on athletes, screening the personal lives of prospective draft candidates, to making sure finances aren’t being misappropriated – and of course investigating women who accuse players of assault.’ He lifted the napkin from his lap and stood. ‘Looks like the other good doctor has arrived.’

A tall gentleman with olive skin and a mop of tight curly hair approached them. His physique suggested he could have been an athlete himself. ‘Sorry, buddy, got held up. This must be the famous Doctor Crichton. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Gavin Rosseter.’

‘Anya,’ she said across the table.

‘Hope you started without me.’

Bridget appeared again for his order and quickly returned with a Corona beer.

‘Welcome to the good old US of A,’ Gavin said. ‘I hear you come from Down Under. Great country. I’ve been once and loved everything about it. Only problem is, it’s not on the way to anywhere.’

‘Neither’s New York if you think about it. I’d say both were pretty good destinations in themselves, wouldn’t you?’

Gavin laughed out loud. ‘A woman with spirit and wit. We’re going to get along just fine.’

The entrées arrived; the smells alone were worth coming here for. Anya savoured the aroma of the orange soy sauce, which complemented the salty tuna perfectly.

Gavin had chosen the white asparagus with shaved truffles, and the scent of musk and nuts made Anya wish she could have ordered that too. Ethan had wiped his plate clean with some sourdough bread almost before the other two had taken their first bite.

‘How long have you been a team doctor for the Bombers?’ Anya asked Gavin.

‘Just over a year. I used to work for the Knicks. I know all the players lined up for tonight’s exhibition event. If you like, I can take you to the change rooms and show you around before the game.’

‘I’d like that. I’m not that familiar with American basketball or American football and I’m trying to get some insight into the physical challenges football players face, as well as the culture they’re part of.’

‘It’s not dissimilar to your Aussie Rules, which by the way is completely insane. The way the players jump onto the backs and shoulders of other players to catch a ball is crazy.’

‘It’s called taking a mark.’ Anya’s father had taken her to more games than she could remember. It wasn’t the football she had loved, but the special time shared with her dad.

‘That’s right. And what about rugby? Your players all tackle each other without helmets or any form of protection whatsoever. Two hundred pounds of muscle running at each other full speed is one mighty collision.’

Ethan sat forward. ‘Our game actually evolved from rugby. I think our players are more like blowfish. The padding’s partly to make them look more intimidating.’

‘How much does padding really compensate for that degree of impact?’ Anya asked Gavin.

‘It’s a good question, but I’m guessing no one would be prepared to give it up for a trial. Irrespective of protective gear, our guys have to be finely tuned and in peak condition. One of my roles is to check them out thoroughly before the draft. The last thing a team wants is a player predisposed to or carrying an injury.’

‘How extreme are the physical stresses?’

Before he could answer, Ethan placed his napkin on the table. ‘Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom.’

Gavin’s eyes sparked, as if this was his favourite subject. ‘These guys are the barely walking wounded after a game. They’re our modern-day gladiators and they go into battle every time they step onto the field. It’s how they’re conditioned. They all live on anti-inflammatories and analgesics. They pop them like Tic-Tacs.’

Likening players to warriors and gladiators appeared to be common. Anya was aware of drug use in almost all athletic
arenas, both professional and amateur, despite testing procedures. ‘What about steroid abuse? How rife is that among current footballers?’

‘Look, I don’t condone it in any way. The league, like other sports, has people who use them, but it’s estimated at around ten percent or fewer of the players. Strength is important, but so is endurance. The men can lose litres of fluid every game. It’s not all that uncommon to have them sitting on the john while I’m in the next cubicle holding bags of fluid to rehydrate them intravenously. Did you know that some of the basketballers go through two dozen bottles of drink during a game? You have to monitor their electrolytes closely.’

Anya reached for the salt and knocked her glass of water, spilling a small amount on the tablecloth. She moved the glass and used Ethan’s napkin to soak up the water. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Bridget standing with Ethan near the bathroom entrance. Their heads were close and he pulled a wad of money from his wallet, which she slipped into her skirt pocket. If he were paying her for information, this was a public place and not exactly discreet. Then again, Anya knew so little about Ethan that Bridget could have been his girlfriend, or even his wife.

Gavin continued. ‘There’s been some interesting research going on into all this. In fact your Garvan Institute found that Human Growth Hormone is more of a placebo than a real benefit. In a double-blind study, players given the placebo improved more in strength, endurance, power and sprint capacity than those given HGH. It’s also been shown that players who use steroids have more injuries. The message is getting through, and of course they test for illegal substances.’

Anya had seen another study that suggested otherwise. ‘I’ve read that steroids increase the size of muscle fibres and the number of nuclei in the fibres, which means a user synthesises more protein and makes more muscle, even years after steroid withdrawal. This particular study found that even after steroid withdrawal, users had a competitive edge.’

Ethan slid back into his chair and joined the conversation. ‘So an athlete can still be cheating years after taking steroids? How serious can anyone be about catching cheats if footballers are only tested on game day?’

Gavin placed both elbows on the table. ‘Very serious. Players are most likely to take stimulants on game day.’

Anya felt the tension between the men and wondered at it.

‘How serious can the league be when the World Anti-Doping Agency outlaws fifty stimulants, whereas there are only ten on the league’s banned list?’

‘To be fair,’ argued Gavin, ‘the league did begin cracking down on drug use fifteen years before baseball started testing its players.’

Anya had read of the recent scandals involving revered baseballers testing positive for illegal substances. ‘Why doesn’t the league adopt the same protocols and testing programme as the WADA?’ she asked.

Gavin whistled. ‘Now that’s a whole lot of politics I am happily not involved in.’

‘I can answer that,’ Ethan said. ‘Under league rules, first-time offenders are suspended for up to four games, whereas WADA would impose a two-year ban. The cost of paying a fortune for players who could be out for two years makes the policy more a fiscal than a moral one.’

It was hardly much of a disincentive, Anya thought.

The main courses arrived and Gavin explained the warnings he gave to players.

‘I tell the men they’re more likely to be out longer with injuries, and I’ve seen them, from steroid abuse. They get more disc herniations, more knee, elbow, spine, ankle and foot problems. If the muscle grows too quickly, the cartilage may not adapt fast enough, so there’s greater stress exerted on ligaments and cartilage. No player wants to increase the risk of rupturing a knee ligament or a disc. It can end a career in the time it takes to hit the ground.’

Anya’s roasted chicken breast was exquisite and, judging by
their clean plates, Ethan and Gavin had enjoyed their meals as much as she had. They declined dessert and Gavin took Anya downstairs while Ethan attended to some ‘business’. She wondered if that meant Bridget.

They moved along the circular grey, windowless corridors, which felt a degree or two colder than the rest of the building. Two security guards recognised Rosseter with the acknowledgement, ‘Hello, doc.’ Further along, people in grey uniforms with walkie-talkies hovered outside rooms.

They passed a room with
X-Ray
on the door.

‘You don’t want to take a player out of the game unnecessarily, so doctors can X-ray players here. No CT scanner, obviously, just your basic machine.’

Anya wondered if the cost of the facility was justified. If the player had sufficient pain to warrant an X-ray, surely they weren’t capable of playing to their full capacity anyway. Soft-tissue damage could be as debilitating as a fracture but would not show on an X-ray.

‘Dressing rooms aren’t labelled, to discourage fans from disturbing them. The Rangers and Knicks have separate rooms.’ He gestured to two blue doors, one of normal size, the other much bigger. ‘The one on the right is for the Knicks basketballers. The Rangers’ hockey players need double width for their equipment trolley to get through.’

And, Anya thought, judging from the degree of shoulder padding, just to let players get in and out easily.