Love Game - Season 2012 (4 page)

Tom stopped, having found the right room,
and knocked on the door which opened immediately. Elise waved him inside.

“Have you got everything?” she asked while
heading to the table standing near the window of her hotel room.

“Yes,” Tom answered. He followed the German
player and dumped his bag on a chair. Over Christmas he had done some special
research with the help of Candice, going through lists and tournament schedules
for hours and hours, finally printing out the relevant information from two
tournaments, the U.S. Open and Luxembourg. At these tournaments several players
had been slipped prints of the pictures under their hotel room doors. It could
only mean that the person who had the pictures had been at both tournaments and
that it was most likely to have been one of them – a staff member, a player’s
team member or even a player herself.

Tom took out a carefully sorted pack of
papers, but suddenly his eyes caught a framed photograph standing on the
nightstand. He went over and picked it up.

“I’m really sorry for all the trouble.”

Elise smiled shyly. “I’m actually glad you
took it. I love the picture so much.”

“You two look very beautiful in it,” he
said.

“Did you take other pictures of us?”

Tom shook his head. “No, just on this occasion.
It was a coincidence that I was there at all.”

Tom looked at Elise and realized that the
girl looked almost disappointed. He put the picture down on the nightstand
again and stepped back to the table.

“Look, these are lists of the staff members
I got from Candice,” he explained, putting a pile on the table. “And here are
the players.”

“I want to do the players,” Elise said,
suddenly excited again. She sat down and pulled up the paper heap. It contained
entry lists with players’ names, draw sheets for the days the pictures were
discovered and hotel lists of the players.

Elise grabbed the hotel’s writing pad and a
pen and spread several sheets out in front of her. Tom had to grin. The young
woman displayed the same excitement as he felt. They were playing detective,
finding out who had gotten hold of the pictures. Even though they were aware of
the potential havoc the pictures could cause it was fun. Moreover, so far
nothing bad had happened to the players. Nobody had been blackmailed. None of
the pictures had been leaked to the press either. Not yet. Tom sat down beside
Elise and grabbed the other pile. Hopefully they would be able to break down
the group of suspects to only a couple of people.

For quite a while they worked silently,
bent over the sheets of paper and scribbling down names.

“There were not many players left in New
York,” Elise finally said. “Ted lost the pictures on the evening before the
women’s final, so the only singles players left were Amanda and Sasha, as they
played the final.”

The day of the U.S. Open final, Sasha had
been secretly slipped a picture of herself looking at one of the Galloway twins
the day of the U.S. Open final. Amanda had never received one of the pictures
personally, but a photo of Elise and Amanda had been given to Elise in
Luxembourg. Tom nodded. It eliminated both Amanda and Sasha from the list of
suspects, as well as Antonia and Martina who received a picture in Luxembourg.

“There are only the doubles finalists
left,” she said. “Monica and Agnes were one team and they were in Luxembourg,
too. But I just can’t see them doing this. The other finalists were Bernadette
Le Blanc and Sofia Thrassa. But only Bernadette was in Luxembourg, as Sofia got
injured in Osaka. Bernadette played Luxembourg with Polly Duke.”

“So the only player we have is Bernadette
LeBlanc?”

“No, the only U.S. Open finalist who was in
both New York and Luxembourg is Bernadette. But a lot of the players could have
stayed longer in New York,” Elise said. “We have to take a look at the players
who perhaps lost within a couple of days of the final.”

Tom leaned back and sighed. Suddenly, it
seemed unlikely that a player would do this to other players. Perhaps they
should concentrate more on the staff and team members. Suddenly he realized
something and this time he groaned in desperation.

“I forgot the umpires,” he yelled. “They
also travel with the tour.”

Tom looked at the sheets. The more they
investigated this matter the longer the list became.

***

After Tom had left, Elise cleared the table
and took a look at the list she and Tom had compiled. It was rather long, she
had to admit, and she couldn’t think of anyone listed doing such a thing. Why
would they? After changing into her nightwear, she lay down in bed as she had
an early match tomorrow morning. Elise was scheduled first on court, so she
would get up at around 7 a.m. and practice. But she didn’t want to go to
sleep yet. Earlier, Amanda had promised to call her tonight after a sponsor dinner
she had to attend. Elise checked her watch and sighed. Amanda must have
forgotten about the slight time difference between Australia and New Zealand.
She slipped her hand under the blanket and fished out the novel she had hidden
when Tom had knocked on the door. She had been reading the whole afternoon and
she had almost finished
The Magician of Miami
.

Ten minutes later she turned over the last
page of the book, and just then Amanda rang in and with a big smile Elise
grabbed her laptop and answered.

“Did you go to an all-you-can-eat
restaurant or why did it take so long?” she teased Amanda as soon as the
Australian appeared on the screen.

“No,” Amanda grinned. “But on the way back
to the hotel I started reading the
Tennis Nurse
novel you gave me and I
needed to finish the first chapter before I could call you. I forgot how
addictive these books are.”

“I know,” Elise said. “I just finished mine
and now I don’t have anything to read.” Suddenly she regretted leaving the
other
Tennis Nurse
novel with Amanda.

Amanda cracked up laughing. “Do you want me
to read the next chapter to you?”

That actually sounded like a good deal,
Elise thought. Also, she could listen to Amanda’s hot Australian accent. Elise
nodded.

“The first chapter is only so that the
reader understands that Jane is in Japan,” Amanda explained. “She’s just
escaped some bad Yakuza girls and has now returned to the tournament in Osaka
as if nothing had happened.”

Then Amanda began to read and Elise slipped
down into the warm cushions watching her lover’s concentrated face.

Jane, the nurse, had finished her duties at
the tournament when she received a mysterious message.

“The messages always seem to be random
notes on the locker room wall or the scoreboard, and only Jane understands
their meaning,” Amanda illustrated looking up to the screen at Elise.

“I know,” Elise grinned. “I’ve already read
eight books. Keep on reading.”

Immediately Jane packed up her first-aid
kit and sneaked outside, waiting at a side entrance. It was already dark. Soon
a hooded figure stepped through the door and Jane followed her. When the woman
passed by a street light Jane was able to recognize her. It was French player,
Dorothée Margeaux.

“Oh, wait,” Elise interrupted Amanda. “I’ve
never heard of this character before.”

“Me neither,” Amanda shrugged. “Have you
only read old novels so far?”

Elise nodded. “Yes,” she said, then pointed
to the book Amanda was holding up on the screen. “That’s the first novel I
ordered myself. It’s brand new.” Then Elise sat up on her bed.

“Don’t you think that could be Morgana?”
she wondered. “Dorothée Margeaux. Morgana Doré. Both are French players. Yes,
the author must mean Morgana.”

Amanda nodded slowly.

“Oh, Morgana will be delighted that she has
her own character now. She is obsessed with
Tennis Nurse
,” Elise smiled,
bouncing on the bed. “Keep on reading.”

Amanda picked up the book again and
continued. Nurse Jane followed the player through the city and finally into the
back of a restaurant. In the kitchen Dorothée took a quick look around, then
walked to one of the cooks, while Jane waited a few feet away. Without saying a
word Dorothée slipped her hand into her jacket, took out a brown envelope and
handed it to the Japanese cook. He just nodded.

Hiding behind some exotic plants Nurse Jane
watched the French player sit down in the back of the restaurant while still
keeping an eye on the cook who then began preparing a big fish. A blowfish.

 “Blowfish is very poisonous,” Elise mused
aloud. “Did she pay to kill someone?”

Amanda looked up. “How would I know?”

“Why would she do this?”

“I’m pretty sure it will be explained at
some point in the story.”

“It doesn’t make sense!”

Amanda shook her head at her obnoxious
girlfriend. “Maybe later it will.”

“Keep on reading!”

Amanda laughed. “No,” she grinned and
closed the book with a snap. “That was the end of the chapter and we have to go
to bed. I’ll read you the next chapter tomorrow.”

“Oh no,” Elise giggled but accepted it. For
a while they kept looking at each other on their screens.

“If you had glasses, that would be funny,”
Elise said sleepily. “You need glasses to be an authentic reader.”

“And you need sleep. You talk nonsense,”
Amanda whispered, then she blew Elise a kiss, waved and they ended the
transmission.

IN THE AIR
                                                 

Sydney, Australia

With cameraman Lars in her wake, Paola
rushed across the tournament site for the tenth time looking for Sasha
Mrachova. Where was the Czech? She would be training on the last practice
court, Sasha had told her over the phone. But where was the last practice
court? Paola had wandered over to Court No. 15, but there was nobody there. She
then had gone to the other side of the practice courts – to no avail. Paola
moaned. She was running around the site like a headless chicken. It was a
relief that no visitors were on site yet, blocking the paths. She would be late
anyway. But really, this time it wasn’t her fault. What was going on with the
Czech? Had she forgotten about their interview appointment? It wouldn’t be
surprising. Lately Sasha Mrachova had been displaying a new, displeasing
behavior as the tour diva. From Candice Crantz, Paola had heard that without
explanation Sasha had cancelled the photo shoot she was assigned to as one of
the five top players, right after her loss at the Year End Championships in
Istanbul. The player’s management had then called off the next appointment for
shooting a Christmas message video. There were hushed whispers that Sasha had
had an accident, that there had been trouble with her football fiancé, but none
of the speculations had been confirmed. A few days ago, Sasha had published a
couple of pictures on her homepage that showed her under a Christmas tree
holding up presents, looking goofy and happy with Jaro. Her sudden reappearance
stirred the thought that Sasha had simply gone on a spontaneous love trip,
forgetting all about her duties as a Top 5 player. Paola had been surprised.
This was not like Sasha, who had the reputation of being highly professional
about her off-court assignments. But this time love seemed to have gotten in
the way of reason.

Out of breath, Paola finally settled down
on a bench and took out her cell phone. It was best to call Sasha’s management.
But after dialing the number, all she heard was the phone ringing on the other
end.

“Take the morning off, Lars,” she told her
cameraman, who packed the gear and headed to the media center. Paola got up and
began walking around Ken Rosewall Arena. On the other side there was a kiosk
that sold cold beer and she really needed to cool off before continuing with
her tight schedule. While on her way, Paola went through the list of things to
do. She still needed to organize the location and setting for the new show
Supersport Channel was about to launch with some of the younger, upcoming
players. It would allow tennis fans a look behind the scenes while pushing the
popularity of these soon-to-be top players. It was initially intended to be a
couple of clips with the Galloway twins that showed their life on the tour and
the cities they visited. But the channel had broadened the idea over the
off-season and would produce videos with some other players as well, even
though Paola was sure that the twins’ good looks helped to put them in the
spotlight more than the others. One week ago, however, Paola had learned that –
unlike in previous years – Gabriella and Luella had planned completely
different tour schedules. Initially, Paola was surprised, as the twins were
known to stick together. Even a slight distinction in ranking should not have
derogated their union. But then she remembered the conversation she had had
with Gabriella at the end of last year’s season, and in the off-season
Gabriella had moved to Florida and had gathered a new team around her.

The new information only confirmed that
there had been a dispute between them, and the Austrian journalist was
confident she knew why. Luella had already won a Grand Slam and had entered the
Top 10 while her sister was still waiting in the wings to prove herself. Paola
grinned. This year would see drama, she was sure of it. And she would be there
to catch it with her camera and her microphone. Thank god the off-season was
over.

At 9:45 in the morning there wasn’t much
traffic at the watering hole and with a glass of beer in her hand Paola happily
sat down on one of the nearby courts to watch Martina and Antonia hit some
balls. When they finished practice Paola decided to go, but the sudden sound of
squealing tires made her turn around. A black tournament car sped through the
entrance at the back of the park and down a little side path next to the
courts. It stopped in front of an outside court where a play area for kids was
installed. Peeking through the fence, to her surprise Paola could make out the
slender figure of Sasha Mrachova coming from the kids zone court. Surrounded by
her team and a handful of bodyguards Sasha approached the car. Paola snorted.
Sasha had indeed forgotten about her appointment. Or had she given Paola the
wrong information on purpose? And what on earth was Sasha wearing on her head?
Admittedly, the Australian sun was lethal and Sasha had fair skin, but the
visor seemed disproportionately huge. Paola wondered if the Czech could even
see the ball when she tossed it up for the serve.

***

“No, no, no,“ Ted muttered. “This is
ridiculous.”

He stared at the long list on a sheet of
paper which Tom had just handed him. “Over thirty people,” he counted. “How are
we supposed to find out if one of them is the person we are looking for?”

Tom nodded and sighed. In defeat he sunk
into the broad sofa that occupied most of the hotel room. It seemed to be the
only luxury he had right now. “I don’t know,” he groaned, burying his head in a
cushion. “But at least we narrowed down the list of suspects.”

Ted continued looking at the paper. Elise
and Tom had done a good job figuring out who had been both at the U.S. Open and
the Luxembourg tournament.

1                 2 Supervisors + 4 staff
members (players’ service)

2                 Candice Crantz + 2 staff
members (communications)

3                 2 Chair umpires (Stea,
Sanchez)

4                 2 Physios (McManus,
Reichelt)

5                 Marieke + 2 team members

6                 Morgana + 2 team members

7                 Carina + 3 team members

8                 Angela + 2 team members

9                 Ivana + 1 team member

10                Monica/Agnes + 1 team
member

11                Bernadette

12                (Martina/Antonia)

“Antonia and Martina are in brackets
because they are recipients, right?” Ted asked and Tom nodded. But suddenly Ted
raised an eyebrow.

“By the way, you forgot someone,” he
remarked. Tom looked up in surprise.

“No, Elise and I were absolutely sure,” he
said, shaking his head. “We thought of everyone. We even included those players
who lost in the quarter- and semifinals of the U.S. Open, as there was a chance
that they were still around on finals day.”

“Right,” Ted smiled. “But you forgot
someone who lost in the first week and was still in New York on finals day. Not
for shopping or sightseeing. Instead she was sitting in Amanda’s box blowing
her kisses.”

Tom sat up straight. “We forgot Elise,” he
realized. He looked at Ted and shook his head. “But like Antonia and Martina
she got one of the pictures herself. It can’t be her.”

“Well, honestly I don’t think it was her,”
Ted assured Tom. “But we should put her on the list for the sake of
completeness.”

Tom nodded. It didn’t make it any easier
that the list had grown again.

“Ok, let’s recap this whole thing again,” Ted
said pensively. “Pictures were given to Sasha in New York and a few weeks later
to Elise, Martina and Antonia in Luxembourg. At least these are the players we
know of. Sasha’s print showed her looking at one of the Galloways. Pretty
harmless, in fact, whereas Elise and Amanda are smooching, and Martina and
Antonia are going for even more.”

“If these are the only prints given to
players so far, I don’t understand why?” Tom pondered. “I don’t understand the
motive behind this.”

Ted looked up at Tom. “Good keyword,
boyfriend,” he exclaimed. “We should be looking for a motive. That’s how they
do it in the movies. That’s how you convict the villains.”

Tom chuckled and patted the couch cushion
for Ted to sit down next to him. Snuggled against each other they took a look
at the list again.

“It can’t be blackmail,” Tom stated. “There
haven’t been any demands so far. It must be something else.”

“We need to find out if there are any
connections, rifts or secret histories between our photo models and these
suspects,” Ted said excitedly.

“Well, Sasha got the picture only a couple
of hours before her final. If you remember, she had serious problems
concentrating in the match and at one point resorted to insulting the chair
umpire.”

“Anastasia,” Ted threw in. She was also on
the list and he made a mental note to take a closer look at her.

“It’s fair to say that Sasha probably would
have played much better if she hadn’t received this picture,” Tom concluded.
“The one person who benefitted from it was – Amanda.”

Ted and Tom looked at each other
uncomfortably. They didn’t want to believe that Amanda and Elise had lied to
them. “Well, Amanda helped you get the pictures from my room. She knew what you
were looking for,” Tom said. “And it would have been easy for her to slip it under
Sasha’s door. They were staying at the same hotel.”

“I can’t believe she would do that.”

“Me neither,” Tom sighed. “But a Grand Slam
title is a motive, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.” Ted looked away for a short
moment and Tom squeezed his arm. Ted hadn’t won a Grand Slam yet, even though
he had come close. But he had lost all three finals he had been in so far. What
wouldn’t he do to win a major?

“So, what about the picture of Elise and
Amanda?” Tom asked to take Ted’s minds off the fact he had never won a Grand
Slam. “She could have lied and told us she got it anonymously. We cannot prove
she told the truth.” Ted shrugged.

“She also loves the picture,” Tom
remembered. It was a really great shot, with perfect light and an even more
captivating subject. “She framed it,” he said with a little smile, proud that
his picture received the attention it deserved.

“It’s a great shot, so she wanted to keep
it,” Ted speculated. “That’s why she said somebody slipped it under her door.
That makes me think of Antonia and Martina’s picture. They are friends with
Amanda. Perhaps Elise gave them the picture because she wanted them to have
something to frame, too.”

“They were having sex against the wall in a
dark hallway,” Tom blurted out. “I cannot see Elise being the type of person
who thinks a picture of this kind should be framed.”

“No, she’s a bit uptight, isn’t she? So,
that’s probably a dead end.” Ted sighed.

However, they couldn’t deny that a Grand
Slam was a good motive.

***

So far she had avoided drawing any attention
to herself, even though her demand to be taken for the short drive around
Sydney’s Olympic Tennis Park from the Kids zone to the main parking lot had
caused some chuckles from the bodyguards and the drivers. But Sasha decided not
to worry about it. Much worse was the short moment when she had to cross the
players’ lounge and the locker room. She hadn’t talked to any other player yet,
but felt the sideway glances that followed her. Everybody seemed to look at her
nose, until Sasha noticed them. Then they quickly looked away and pretended to
keep on going with their conversations.

Sasha peered into the locker room and
gratefully noticed that it was empty. All this trouble because of a mild
curiosity. Why couldn’t she have stayed away from Luella Galloway? Sasha took
out her belongings from the locker and smacked the locker door closed, but the
impetus only made it swing open again. The Czech player suppressed the urge to
kick the locker and instead slowly closed the door once again. It really was
her own fault. Sasha just hoped that she could avoid Luella as long as
possible. She hadn’t seen her since that fateful night in the hospital in
Istanbul. But she had thought about the hard-hitting twin every time she looked
into the mirror. There was nothing she could do or say about Luella’s assault,
otherwise the Galloway would tell everyone about Sasha’s advances.

What a joke her off-season had been. She
had spent one week in the hospital in Istanbul while everyone else had gone on
vacation already. When she finally left the city at the Bosporus and flew back
home, hitting balls would have been the only way to get the incident and the
thought of the Galloway twins out of her head, but she had to pause from
training for another two weeks. The idleness and being stuck at home had
resulted in a severe obsession with her nose and her looks. Even though
everyone constantly told her that she looked fine, the truth was her nose had
been feeling bigger since the fracture, and she could see the tip from the
corner of her eye. Once in a while she caught herself leering at it. One day
her eyes would get stuck staring at her nose. When she finally was able to go
out and train again, she insisted on playing on a separate court with blinds.
Nobody should be allowed see her.