worst. CEOs are up there, too, except most of them are
too dumb to understand the news stories. That’s why
they hire PR types—to translate for them.”
“Does Dr. Van Boeck have a specific gripe?” Judith
inquired.
Addison chuckled. “Dozens of them, going back to
his football playing days. He actually played pro ball,
for the Sea Auks.”
“I know,” Judith said. “He backed up Bob Randall
for a season or two before he washed out of football.”
Addison cast Judith an admiring glance. “So you
know about that? Well, Van Boeck has never forgiven
the sportswriters for criticizing his ineptitude. He
might have good hands for a surgeon, but he sure as
hell didn’t have them for handling the ball. The irony,
of course, is that Mrs. Van Boeck uses the media to
great effect.”
“And tries to manipulate it as well?” Judith put in.
“That, too,” Addison said, looking grim.
The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of
Jim Randall, who walked straight into the coat closet’s
sliding doors.
“Ooof!” he cried, staggering. “Sorry. Am I interrupting?” He peered first at Addison, then at Judith.
“You have a guest. I can’t quite see who . . .”
Judith hastily identified herself. “From next door,
remember?”
210
Mary Daheim
“Oh.” Jim nodded as he carefully moved closer.
“Yes, we spoke. I just came to let Mr. Kirby know
when the funeral for my brother will be held. He’s
going to put it in the newspaper for me.”
“Since I can’t call from here, I’ll have a nurse phone
it into the obit and sports desks,” Addison said. “Have
you written it out?”
Jim fumbled at an inside pocket in his overcoat. “It
was a group effort. Margie, Nancy, Bob Jr., and me.
Here.” He handed several sheets of paper to Addison.
The handwriting was difficult to decipher. Addison
was forced to read the verbiage aloud to make sure that
everything was accurate. “You’ve hit the highlights of
Bob’s football career,” he said to Jim, “except for the
stats. One of the football reporters can fill those in for
the sports page.”
“Very illustrious,” Judith remarked. “I’d forgotten
how good Bob Randall really was.”
Addison began reading the official obituary.
“
‘Robert Alfred Randall Sr., born Topeka,
