‘At the General, they keep busy most times,’ said Fishback. ‘No need for us to trouble them in emergency, however. This is a simple analysis.’
‘Do you work in the hospital, by any chance?’
Fishback shook his head. ‘I practice in a clinic in La Jolla,’ he said with pride.
‘Nice,’ said Dryden. ‘The culture center.’
‘I guess you could say that. We have the University, of course, the Museum of Art—’
‘Is there a hospital out that way — to save you driving to the General? Seems to me one lab is as good as another for a test like this.’
Fishback thought about it. ‘We have the Salk Institute out there. They’d run a test for us. Hey, how about your friend? You told him to pick you up at the General.’
‘To be truthful, it’s easier if he isn’t around,’ said Dryden. ‘I wouldn’t want to put my exclusive at risk, if you understand me. I’ll catch up with Elmer all right. And I’ll see Miss Serafin gets back to her people after the test.’
‘Suits me,’ said Fishback. At the next intersection, he followed the signs for Highway 5.
The springing of a drug test, as Dryden had anticipated, had caught the consortium unprepared. After the 400 metres, a marshal, one of the dowagers in plastic raincoats, had rushed Goldine to the medical room with Klugman in tow, but she had very firmly closed the door on him before he could catch a glimpse of Dryden. And while Klugman had raced upstairs to report to Serafin, Fishback and Dryden had whisked Goldine to the car. The marshal had collected the clothes from the dressing room and delivered them to the car at the stadium gate.
The people at the Salk Institute for Biological Studies administered the test with the minimum of fuss. Before Goldine was taken by a female analyst to pass a specimen, Dryden put his hand on her arm and told her confidentially, ‘This is a safeguard for you. Don’t be anxious. You’ve nothing to fear.’ Having said that, the thought crept into his mind after she had gone that if Klugman or someone had taken fright at the weather conditions, they could have slipped her a Dexedrine capsule. If the test proved positive, the consequences for Goldine’s career, Serafin’s ambitions, Dryden’s future didn’t need spelling out. He was in a sweat until the analyst appeared in half an hour and said, ‘She’s clear.’
‘How about that?’ said Fishback. ‘Could I have that in writing? Nobody’s going to believe this.’ He turned Dryden’s way. ‘Sorry about your exclusive, friend, but there it is. Happens Miss Serafin is just one fabulous running machine.’
All this labeling. Artifact monster, machine...
‘I just have to accept that I made a mistake,’ said Dryden. ‘Dr. Fishback, I’m sorry to have put you to all this trouble. There’s not much I can do to compensate you, but if anyone should suggest her performances this afternoon were upped, you may be sure I’ll publish a rebuttal giving you full credit for acting as responsibly as you did.’
‘Doing my job, that’s all,’ Fishback magnanimously said.
As soon as Fishback had left, Goldine turned to Dryden. ‘We must call a cab, get back to San Diego.’
‘Easy,’ murmured Dryden. ‘Why the panic?’
Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘Doc. He won’t know what happened. If I don’t check in quick, he’ll go crazy.’
‘He’ll have heard about the test,’ Dryden pointed out. ‘He knows these things can’t be hurried. Look, you’ve had a harrowing time. You need to unwind. We’ll walk a little. Twenty minutes more won’t make any difference.’
‘Will you clear it with Doc when we get back?’ she dubiously asked.
‘Leave it with me. There won’t be any problem,’ he promised. ‘They’re delighted you ran so well this afternoon. And when they hear you got a clearance on the dope test, they’ll be over the moon.’
The stress lines in the center of Goldine’s forehead began to soften.
‘I’m afraid I missed the last race,’ Dryden casually continued. ‘How did it go?’ He picked up her bag and moved toward the door, and she came with him.
‘The four hundred?’ Her eyes were shining at the recollection. ‘It was a lot of fun. The sun was out by then. I just coasted through the first three hundred and then kicked for home. I had a lot left at the end — would you believe that? I never guessed it could feel so easy.’
‘It’s going to get tougher.’
‘Don’t I know it! I had a peek at next week’s schedule. Track, track, track. I guess it’s necessary. I have to be in condition for the Olympic Trials four weeks from now.’
‘You looked fit enough today.’
‘I’ll have to go faster than that, but it’s coming.’
They had come down the Institute steps and were strolling through the grounds toward the gate. Dryden nudged the conversation forward. ‘Goldine, I was hoping I would get a chance to speak with you like this, outside the retreat, away from Ingrid and all the others.’
She smiled. ‘Ingrid’s no snoop.’
‘I believe you, but the meeting we had in the massage room wasn’t my idea of a relaxed conversation. I’ll be truthful. I engineered that dope test to get some time alone with you. Don’t feel threatened. I didn’t do this to trap you. I just had the feeling yesterday that it wasn’t fair to expect you to answer my questions frankly.’
She stopped and regarded him pertly. ‘You mean I didn’t reveal enough of myself?’
He put his hand behind her elbow and gently moved her on. ‘Goldine, you’re a sensational bird, but I haven’t brought you here just to chat. Can we be serious?’
‘If that’s what you want,’ she said flatly.
‘Your father — your father by adoption — wants me to be your agent after the Olympics. When I met him first, I put him down as some kind of nut and told myself I wouldn’t touch the project. It’s a little wild to contemplate, you must admit. But underneath my cynical exterior, there’s a streak of pure greed. I’m in business and I’ve had some success. I like to think I’m still moving up. When I stop thinking that way, I should retire. Now, that selfish streak of mine tells me you could be a winner, and I ought to take the Goldengirl commission. After this afternoon, if they asked me right now, I’d take a chance and say yes. But it’s still a chance, not just because some other superdame might steal a medal you were counting on. You see, my vocation isn’t nice. I trade in people. Successful people, celebrities, world champions. I invite combines and corporations to bid for them. They make a pile of money and I take a cut. It sounds like a good arrangement, and for some of them it is.’
‘Jim Hansenburg?’
Dryden thought, and nodded. ‘He’ll do for an example. Jim’s a natural competitor. Give him any kind of test, from high school grades to Grand Prix racing, and he’ll do his damnedest to finish on top. I had him playing with a toy the other day, a miniature racing circuit, and I asked him to make sure he didn’t win — we were pitching for a contract, and I wanted our potential customer in a good frame of mind. Do you know, Jim raced that five-inch car as if he was on the Nurburgring, got ahead, and wouldn’t give way for eighty laps? Then he drove it off the track, to my incredulous relief, but I’m sure he only did that because he’d proved to himself he was morally the winner. That’s Jim Hansenburg, a nice guy, sexy — women adore him — but with this fixation to win. He knows exactly what he wants from life. Yes, he enjoys his money, girls, travel, but he only comes alive on the Grand Prix circuits. Give him five more years, when his reactions slow up a little, and that man will cease to live, Goldine. Literally, he may kill himself trying to keep up with younger, sharper drivers — plenty do — but if he does survive, it will be an empty old age, forever striving for success at pool, poker, ten-pin bowling. He knows. I’ve discussed it with him. It isn’t in his nature to do anything different. My guess is that he’ll be dead ten years from now, but it won’t be on my conscience. Does that sound brutal?’