Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

‘Who are you, Mr. Balls and why are you in here?’  The girl was calm.  She did not reach for any piece of clothing to hide her nakedness.  She had a beautiful body and she felt comfortable in it.  She continued looking through the telescope.

‘Why do you do this?  Why does he?’

‘You and I have not been formally introduced, Mr. Balls.  I am Bridget Moynahan, Tom Brady’s first wife.’  She stood up and shook his hand.  There was not a trace of hair on her body except her head.  Balls shook her hand. ‘Well that explains your involvement, but why does he take the risk?’

‘I know.  I simply can’t understand him myself.  It’s a sort of mania with him, making money.  He can’t leave it alone.  He doesn’t like to give it to his employees and he is always looking for an opportunity to make more.  I’ve asked him why and all he says is that one’s a fool not to make money when the odds are right.  Always talking about getting the odds right.  When he talked me into doing this,’ she motioned with her hand towards the telescope, ‘ and I asked him why he bothered, took these stupid risks, all he said was, “That’s the second lesson. When the odds aren’t right, make them right.”‘

‘Well it’s lucky for him I’m not the police.’

‘He wouldn’t care about that.  He can buy anyone off. No one can resist Super Bowl tickets.’

Balls had been glancing down at the game from time to time.  It seemed to be proceeding normally. ‘Won’t he get suspicious if you don’t check in?’  She laughed. ‘He’s so cheap that he got this at Radio Shack.  It stops and starts all the time.  It always picks up again, though.’  Balls thought it was time for the charade to end. Waving Bridget to the side, he put his mouth to the microphone.

‘Now listen, Goodell.  This is Balls of Steel.  I have a photograph of the whole setup here.  If you don’t want it to get to TMZ, nod your head.’  Balls looked through the eyepiece.  Goodell gave a slight nod. ‘Good.  Now, get out your checkbook and write two checks to cash.  One for the amount you have taken from Mr. Brady and the other for twenty five thousand dollars for my fee.  Put down your cards and tell Mr. Brady you are sorry you have cheated him.  Give him the checks and be on your way.  I will take Ms. Moynahan here for lunch.  She will not return to your suite and is no longer in your employ.’

To Balls’ surprise, Goodell calmly did as he was told.  He even gave a slight chuckle.

‘Now, Bridget, let’s eat.  Work makes me hungry.’

…

Bond got off Bridget’s sweaty body and looked to fill his glass with the champagne bottle on the stand at the side of the bed.

It was empty.  ‘I think you said there was another bottle in the fridge.  Come back soon.’  It had been a wonderful afternoon.  Lunch was delicious and they had retired to Balls’ suite and shortly thereafter removed their clothes.  It had been as if the girl was starved of physical love.  She had demanded multiple rounds and was now demanding another.  Balls was slightly dehydrated.  Instead of opening the fridge, he went to fill a glass with water from the tap.  In his state, he did not notice, until it was too late, the nugget lying on the floor. As he turned around, a flash of brown filled his eyes as he was hit with a bottle and instantly knocked out.

When Balls came to, he looked around.  The nugget was gone.  Bridget was lying face down on the bed.  He rushed to her.  She was dead.  Covered in paint.  Red paint.

to be continued…

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