(Please note: this is the sixth instalment of a crime novel in progress, and we’re glad you’ve dropped in.  However, if you go back to They Had the Right to Remain Silent (1), you’ll pick it up from the beginning.  It won’t take long to catch up…promise)
They Had the Right to Remain Silent
Richard S. Jachimecki
Chapter ( iv ) begins…
     “MAY I HAVE A MOMENT WITH MY CLIENT, PRIVATELY?” Adam Pressman said to the owner and general manager of the New York Stallions. They rose and left the room, the general manager closed the door behind them.
     Negotiations had been going back and forth between the professional football team and their star quarterback, Trent Bayberry, for months. Trent had missed spring mini- camp, the team’s summer training, and, as preseason games were about to commence, negotiations were still faltering . This was the third face- to- face meeting at Stallion headquarters between the veteran and management.
     “Trent,” Adam said, “they’re not budging. It may be time to think about compromise here.”
     “I’ve taken this team,” Bayberry said, as he rose from his chair, shoved it into the conference room’s table, then paced behind it, “into the playoffs for the last two years.”
     “We’re all aware of that, Trent.”
     “And, I’ve got a good chance to go all the way this season!”
     “The team has been improving steadily, too.”
     “What’re you, working for them now?!”
     “I’m just stating the fact that there’s been an upgrade in talent all the way around, that’s all. I’m your guy.”
     “Then act like it. I’m not getting them a championship on the cheap. And if they want to lock me into a long- term contract, I want guaranteed money!”
     “Trent, you’ve been one of the higher paid players in the league…”
     “For a fucking good reason…the team is mediocre at best without me, you know that for a fact.”
     “What they’re offering isn’t chump- change, Trent.”
     “You know, and they know, what I’ll consider as fair. They can’t sweat me out forever. Other options can be played. You’ve kept in contact with Detroit and L.A., right?”
     Adam leaned back in his chair, he’d heard this all before.
     “Of course, but you’ve enjoyed the benefits of New York,” Adam said, and opened his attaché on the tabletop, then reached into it, and pulled out a glossy folder with a lightning bolt on the front, “by the way, Gatorade is interested in you, for their new workout- recovery drink campaign, but they also want you connected with a team. Your advertising worth goes up when you’re officially playing, you know that.”
     “Their advertising clout goes up with me attached…tell them to ask Nike.”
     “Oh, the ones who signed you… because you’re in New York?”
     “I’ll be worth it to them, wherever I’m playing.”
     “So what do you want to do, right here and now?”
     Trent wheeled his chair out from under the expansive walnut conference table, then sat down. He picked up the shiny folder which Adam had pulled from his attaché, then tossed it back into the agent’s briefcase.
      “They’ll still be around,” Trent said, then pointed toward the conference room door, “when these guys cave in. Let them start the season without me, they’ll see what they’re missing, and the checkbook will open. Until then, I’ll work out, and keep up- to- date with the playbook. That’s it.”
      “All right,” Adam sighed, “you’re the boss.”
      “Damn straight,” Trent said, then stood and removed his lightweight sportscoat from the back of the chair. He flipped it over his right shoulder, “They’ll change their tune, when they start losing.”



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