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‘Why should she fail?’ Serafin hotly demanded. ‘She is the finest woman athlete in the world.’

‘How much training has she missed?’ said Dryden. ‘Twelve, fourteen days? No Olympic athlete can afford to lay up like that before the Games.’

‘Never mind!’ Goldine cut in. ‘You can bet he’ll think of someone who did and won a gold medal. He has a story for every situation you could name. Before we go into that, has it occurred to any of you that I might decide to make up my own mind about running?’ She paused challengingly. ‘Obviously not. You’re not accustomed to Goldengirl having ideas of her own. She isn’t programed to think. You’d better understand, all of you, that as of now, that’s changing. These last two weeks have taught me a lot, about myself, and the people around me. What you just told me underscores my principal conclusion — that it’s crazy letting any of you take charge of my life. Thanks, I’ll pick up the bits and see what I can do with them myself.’

Dryden had lost. What Goldine was talking about wasn’t freedom. That had beckoned briefly and gone. Goldengirl had taken possession again.

‘But you will run,’ said Serafin, sensing what Dryden had. ‘You can’t pass up the chance now you know it’s possible. You will do it, you know. You’re going for gold.’

If Serafin was expecting a good response, he didn’t get it. Goldine ran her eyes over him and said with contempt, ‘Would you get out of my sight? Don’t you understand it’s all over for you, whatever I do? I don’t need you any more. Like Jack said, there are other doctors.’

‘But you’ll run,’ Serafin persisted with fanatical certitude, ‘and you’ll prove that you can beat the world. I’ll publish your case history. Oh no, Goldengirl, it’s not all over for me! It’s the summit of my professional career. The public will never hear about the diabetes. Shall I tell you why? Because it would tarnish your commercial image. Ask Dryden.’ He held up his hand. ‘All right, I’ll go. I’ll even keep out of your sight if that’s what you want. But you won’t totally shut me out. You’re still my adopted daughter, and the police and press believe you were kidnaped on the way to your U.S. team medical. I don’t think you realize how much media interest there is in this story.’ He smiled and lowered his voice. ‘What would you like me to tell them?’

She breathed the one word, ‘Bastard!’ and looked for help from Dryden.

He knew he must give it. Her bid for self-determination had not lasted long.

Next morning, Sunday, August 3, the press were called to a midday conference at the Metropolitan Hotel, Cleveland Heights, where Serafin read the following statement:

‘I am pleased to announce that my daughter Goldine, who has been missing since Wednesday, was this morning reunited with me. She is physically unharmed but suffering from shock and nervous exhaustion. She is at present under sedation, and will not be making any formal statement to the press. Remembering that the U.S. Olympic team leaves for Moscow three days from now, I ask for your forbearance in giving Goldine the chance to recover from her ordeal. I am not able to state at this stage whether she will be fit enough to travel with the team or, indeed, to compete at all.

‘The circumstances of her release from captivity were as follows. Yesterday morning, a business associate of mine in Los Angeles received a telephone call from a spokesman for Goldine’s abductors, demanding a ransom in dollar bills. A condition was stipulated that the news of the ransom demand should not be communicated to me or the police until the transaction was made. So, unknown to me, my associate raised the money with the help of a consortium of business colleagues interested in America’s representation in the Olympic Games. I have no knowledge of the amount of the ransom, but I should like publicly to express my appreciation of their generosity.

‘Goldine was released at six o’clock this morning on Shore Boulevard, East Cleveland, and phoned me at once. When I picked her up, she was extremely tired and in a state of shock. She was unable to say much about her kidnapers, as she had been kept blindfolded or under sedation throughout the four days and nights of her abduction. Otherwise, she appears to have been treated well. I informed the police of Goldine’s safe return, and she has made a statement to them. She is now resting at an address I shall not disclose, for reasons already stated. As soon as a decision is reached about her participation in the Olympic Games, I shall be in touch with the U.S. Olympic Committee, and a further statement will be issued to the press.’

‘Could we have the name of the guy in Los Angeles?’ asked a reporter.

‘And the others?’ added a second.

‘What were the arrangements for the pickup?’

‘Gentlemen, I have made my statement,’ said Serafin. ‘There is nothing I can usefully add. These last few days have been something of a strain for me, so I must ask you to bear with me when I insist on leaving it at that.’

Whatever Serafin insisted, the press had a job to do. In the next three hours, Cleveland’s transient accommodations — from plush hotels on Euclid Avenue to seedy bed-sitting-rooms downtown — were thoroughly checked for a new arrival. Hospitals, sanitariums and nursing homes were visited. Caradock Lodge, which some bystander had seen Serafin leaving the day before, came in for special attention, but Nurse Piper insisted nobody was staying there, and finally got rid of reporters by allowing them to make their own examination of the rooms. Jefferson College, too, was combed. It was known Goldine had stayed there prior to the kidnaping — a local paper had established that on Thursday — and that Serafin, Klugman, a red-headed secretary, and an unidentified Chinese had been in the party, but none of them could now be traced. By late afternoon, newsmen were talking of a professional coverup. It was thought the police might have taken a hand, but they denied it, seeming put out about the whole affair.

In fact, Goldine and Klugman had left Cleveland in a privately chartered helicopter an hour before the press conference began. In a little over two hours they landed in New York City, where they were met by a senior executive of the Dryden organization and driven to his home. That afternoon, while Cleveland was being scoured, Goldine was walking an Afghan hound in Central Park.

Dryden, with Melody in tow, took the scheduled flight from Cleveland Hopkins Airport at 2:10 P.M. He had masterminded the entire operation. This kind of exercise he performed automatically, laying on a press conference, fixing flight schedules, arranging accommodations. The others had seen the sense of co-operating when he had outlined the plan last evening in Jefferson College. Goldine, convinced she had achieved independence of action, and determined to preserve it, coolly consented to the arrangements so long as they committed her to nothing more than a flight to New York. Serafin, no less convinced that she would run in Moscow, had agreed to go through with the press conference as the best way of resolving the complications of the ‘kidnap’ story. Dryden had written the statement and waited to hear that Serafin read it and didn’t get drawn into questions. Nothing had gone wrong: Serafin was still fanatically interested in the success of Project Goldengirl.

Secure in the plane, Dryden might have been excused for congratulating himself on a smooth operation. In reality, he felt distinctly uneasy. Till yesterday, he had been scrupulous in keeping his participation in the project on a professional basis, avoiding any involvement in what happened to Goldine prior to the Olympics. There were huge risks even in that, but if things got hot before the Games, he had reckoned on pulling out without irreparable damage to the agency’s reputation.