“Spring break I’m holding down two jobs so I can make my spring tuition,” said Matt.
Good, Jupe thought. At least he was asking the right questions. But Matt was giving him surprising answers. Jupe had now learned about four of the starting players on the basketball team. Walt Klinglesmith, Mr. Mont Blanc pen, obviously had money. Cory Brand, according to the cheerleaders and to teammates had money and was a party animal cum laude. Marty Lauffer was just an animal, period. Jupe hadn’t had a chance to ask him about his bank account while Marty was strangling him. But now he was meeting Matt, who didn’t seem to be getting any bribes. Some players had money, some didn’t. What was the pattern?
Jupe began to sift his memory, trying to figure it out. Matt and Marty were seniors... Tim, the fifth starter, was a junior... Cory and Walt were sophomores. In his mind, Jupe ran through all the other players he’d met. It seemed like the youngest guys were getting bribes, the oldest weren’t. The pattern didn’t make much sense to Jupe, but it was a pattern worth investigating. Jupe glanced at Cory Brand. Yes, talking to him was a good idea — as soon as class was over.
A moment later the course instructor walked in and laid his attaché case on the desk. He was a handsome man with smooth, dark hair, and he was in great physical condition, too — probably a former athlete.
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome back to Colorful Speaking! I’m your instructor, Al Windsor!” He said everything in a loud, overly friendly voice.
Why was he talking so loud? Why was he trying to make everything sound so important and exciting? Suddenly it dawned on Jupe exactly what kind of speech course this was. It was a broadcasting course! All these guys were here to learn how to become sportscasters after their sports careers were over.
“The classroom conditions are perfect,” announced Al Windsor. “And the players are at the pinnacle of their training. So I think we’re going to have a great class for you today, filled with the kind of excitement you’ve come to expect every time you walk into this room!”
By the time the class was over, Jupe was exhausted from all that enthusiasm. He shook his head to clear it, then hurried out of the building to catch up with Cory Brand.
“Cory,” Jupe called.
The tall, muscular guy turned around. His blond hair was cut so short that the sun made his scalp glisten.
“Someone told me that you’re the guy to talk to about joining a ’Vette club,” Jupe said.
“No, I’m not going to be a veterinarian. I’m basketball all the way,” answered Cory.
He started walking away and Jupe hurried after him.
“I meant a Corvette club,” said Jupe.
“Hey, you’ve got a Corvette too?”
“Uh, 72, mint condition, zero to sixty in five seconds, and you really know you’ve got a road under you,” Jupe said, trying to remember everything Pete had ever said about Corvettes.
“Yeah,” said Cory. “And when you put the pedal to the metal and kick in the afterburners, it’s real loud!”
Jupe shuddered. How could someone with a 30th vocabulary of sports clichés have a $50,000 car?
“You got yours in the parking lot?” asked Cory.
“Uh, no. I left mine at home — in Alaska.”
“You mean you’re a foreign-exchange student or something?” Cory said. “Come on. I’ll show you my pride and joy.”
As they walked across campus to a student parking area, Jupe tried to get information out of Cory, but it was like trying to catch goldfish barehanded. Cory talked and talked and never said anything worth hearing. Finally Jupe just came right out and asked him a leading question.
“Cory, is Coach Duggan a generous guy? I mean, did he ever give you anything?”
“Well, Coach gave me some free advice once. He said I should take this speech course,” Cory said as he opened the door to his Corvette.
Jupe looked down and happened to notice Cory’s Rolex watch. “Oh, brother, I’m really late. I told someone I’d meet them at three.”
“I’ll give you a ride in my ’Vette,” Cory Brand said. “Hey — I just remembered. That’s something else Coach gave me.”
Jupe couldn’t believe his ears. Had Cory Brand just admitted that Coach Duggan had given him the Corvette?
“Yeah, Coach Duggan gave me a ride once, when my ’Vetter was on the injured-reserved list,” Cory said. He hopped into his red Corvette convertible in a single bound. “Jump in. Where are we going?”
“Nowhere fast,” Jupe grumbled.
At three forty-five Jupe dashed into the Shoremont gym looking for Bob. The two of them were going to make an all — out effort today to learn more about Duggan. Jupe hoped that when he got there, he’d find Bob hard at work on the case — maybe snooping around Coach Duggan’s office or grilling one of the players.
But when Jupe walked into the gym, he found Bob doing what Bob did best these days — talking to girls. He was sitting on the bleachers chatting up the cheerleaders. Of course.
“Hey, Jupe,” Bob said.
“Hey, look, you guys! It’s Jupiter Jones!” squealed one of the cheerleaders. The others looked over at Jupe and giggled.
“I’m late,” Jupe said to Bob.
“I wasn’t bored,” Bob said. He smiled at the girls around him, who smiled back.
“Let’s talk,” Jupe said.
The cheerleaders began practicing their cheers while Jupe and Bob climbed to the top row of bleacher seats.
“I want to get into Duggan’s office right away,” Jupe said. “I don’t suppose you’ve had a chance to check it out yet yourself.”
“Not true,” Bob said. “When I was looking for you, I took a wrong turn in the gym and walked right into Coach Duggan’s office. Talked with his secretary — a gorgeous blond senior on a work-study program. Duggan’s office is a busy place — lots of phone calls, people in and out — so I didn’t learn much. But I did turn up one thing. Every week Duggan makes out a scouting report with the names of high school players he wants to recruit. He’s got it all on a computer in his private office. I took a look at a report, and guess whose name was at the top?”
“Mine?” Jupe said sarcastically.
“Pete’s. Duggan wants him to come to Shoremont in a big way,” Bob said.
“Then why hasn’t he made contact with Pete since last Friday?”
“I don’t know,” Bob said with a shrug.
“This is important, Bob. Did you see any notations or marks or codes indicating which players Duggan’s giving money to?”
Bob shook his head.
“I’m beginning to have a theory,” Jupe said. “There’s a pattern here. The younger players are getting money and the older ones aren’t. I think that’s because Duggan is new at the school. He’s only been here two years, I found out from one of the guys in my wrestling class. That means he hasn’t been recruiting players very long. So only the younger guys — the newer recruits — are on his payroll.”
“That’s good,” Bob said. “But it doesn’t really prove that Duggan’s our man, does it?”
“Not quite,” Jupe said. “Circumstantial evidence. Not the conclusive proof President Harper is waiting for.”
“Don’t worry, Jupe. We’ll get a break in this case. We always do.”