THE TAINTED TRUST (Volume 2 of The King Trilogy)

CHAPTER 27

    New York. Sunday, November 5, 1988.

Kerri stood alone in the Arrivals Lounge at La Guardia Airport, the tip of her nose no more than an inch from a thick plate glass window. She stared anxiously at the spot where she had expected Brian's airplane to come to rest over thirty minutes earlier. The swirling streamers of beaded snow whipping across the concrete below were evidence that the forecast of strong winds and snow had been accurate. She scanned an angry gray sky, then turned and walked in the direction of a nearby coffee-shop. Another unwanted coffee would help to waste time.

She was thrilled and relieved when she returned to the same window fifteen minutes later. The familiar Jet's chartered aircraft was parked at the gantry, its black nose pointed directly at her. Her heart raced in anticipation of being in her husband's arms again. She hurried to Gate thirty-eight and stood on her toes, eagerly trying to see above the people in front of her, hoping to get a glimpse of Brian's handsome face. When she saw his black brush-cut, then his imposing athletic figure, she squeezed through the crowd and darted down the hallway.

Brian, dressed in faded jeans, green sweater and Jets jacket, on the tips of his toes, his brown eyes opened wide, smiled when he heard the hoots and whistles of his teammates. He dropped his carry on bag barely in time to accept Kerri into his arms.

"God, I missed you!" Kerri cried.

"Me too you," Brian replied, squeezing Kerri's buttocks with both hands and lifting her from the floor. "The flight was delayed for an hour in Chicago. They had to de-ice the plane. That's the bad news...Wanna hear the good news?"

"I watched the game. You won," Kerri said, continuing to kiss the love of her life. "And you were fantastic, as usual...I have more good news," she said.

"What?"

"I got a job."

Brian's smile evaporated. He released Kerri and lowered her to the floor. He looked straight into her eyes, struggling to appear interested. "That's fantastic! Where?"

"Let's get out of here," Kerri demanded, tugging Brian's arm. "I'll tell you all about it on the way home."

Toronto. Saturday, November 11, 1988.

As a harsh reminder of the approaching winter, a late autumn storm pounded Toronto for four hours and left a seven inch blanket of snow in its wake. The storm had forced Phillip to work deep into overtime. Most of Mike's gasoline outlets in the city and surrounding area had run out of windshield washer fluid and it was Phillip's job to re-stock them. To complete his assignment, it was virtually certain he would have to relinquish the freedom of his beloved Saturday night.

Heavy slush in the streets had slowed traffic to a crawl. Phillip waited impatiently for a traffic light at the intersection of Bayview and Sheppard Avenues. He pounded his fist on the dashboard. "Shit I hate this!" he shouted.

New York. Friday, November 17, 1988.

In sharp contrast to the wealth and happiness Visconti envisioned when he reached forty, reality had presented a different picture. Now forty-two years of age, he was unmarried, alone, and extremely unhappy. Gone were the excitement of making brilliant financial maneuvers, making a seven-figure income, and one-night stands with nameless girls. A large part of him wanted to be free of it all, unencumbered by responsibility, to start again at something entirely new. A larger part, however, would not let go. A series of less than spectacular investments had conspired to make him feel as if he had painted himself into a corner. He felt hopelessly trapped, not only by his inertia, but by his stupidity.

Almost a year had passed since he dared to falsify his annual report to Mike King. Facing no alternative but to repeat the procedure, he vowed that 1989 would be the year he made his move. It would be bold and decisive. Never again would he find himself in such an untenable position.

The 1988 playoff hopes of the New York Jets ended substantially sooner than the management, coaching staff and players had expected. With near perfect hindsight, sports writers offered a bewildering list of reasons. None of them however, criticized the performance of Brian Pyper. Instead, they gave him glowing reviews. One writer summarized, "Pyper has clearly established himself as the number one quarterback in the league. It was a shame to waste his talents on the Jets."