“What’s going on?” Lori asked.
“Yeah, Red, tell her what’s going on,” Stumps said, blowing a plume of smoke from his lips.
“Nothing is going on,” Red said. “Why don’t you guys get the hell out of here?”
“Uncle Red? Do you know these guys?”
Red had no good answer. He could get caught in a lie, or tell the truth. Either way, Lori would never trust him again. “I don’t know these guys, and I had nothing to do with you being kept in here. I just found out about it myself.”
“But why?” Lori asked.
“I’ll tell you soon enough,” Red said.
Lori started to back away, not knowing who to trust. She suddenly turned towards Hank. “And you, you’re Craig’s boss, Hank. What are you doing here? How do you know my uncle?”
“All good questions, Lori,” Hank replied. “Ones that will eventually need to be answered.”
Lori covered her mouth, “You were the one who fixed the tournament! Uncle Red, Hank here tried to fix the Masters. Oh my God, the Masters! Who won?”
Red spoke first, “Chet won, my dear.”
“Oh thank God!” Lori said. “Is Craig okay?”
“Yes,” Red said, “he’s fine.”
“But Hank, why did you try and stop Chet from winning the tournament?” Lori asked.
Hank smiled and said, “Perhaps good old Uncle Red can answer that question.”
“Shut up, Hank,” Red said under his breath.
“Uncle Red? What’s going on? Did you have something to do with this?”
“Everyone out of here now,” Red said. “I’ll explain later, Lori.”
Stumps sat down next to Brewster, and neither man made a move. They continued to smoke their cigarettes and cross their legs.
Red went over to them and stood just a few feet from where they were sitting. “You hear me—out!”
“I don’t think we’re ready to leave just yet,” Stumps said.
“What’d you say?” Red said. “Get the fuck out of here now!”
Brewster stood up and walked around the chairs towards Red. “Listen, old man, we ain’t going anywhere till we get our money.”
“Money? That’s Hank’s problem.”
“Nah, I think it’s your problem now. Kidnapping wasn’t on our résumé when we signed up for this little weekend. We already did enough of what you said these past few days. Kidnapping your own niece is pretty low, and I think we need a little extra to look the other way, if you know what I mean.”
“Uncle Red?” Lori said, not expecting an answer.
“Listen, you piece of shit. You already got your money, now beat it. Hank will pay you the rest when you get back to Philly.”
“Nah, I think we’ll be settling up here,” Brewster said.
Red, still holding the green jacket over his arm, unfolded it and put it over his other arm. In the process, his right hand felt the warm barrel of a 9mm pistol that was sitting in his jacket just waiting to be used. He lifted his arm and shoved the gun under the nose of Brewster. “Wanna stay now?” Red asked.
“My God, Uncle Red!” Lori said. She put her hands to her face and made a run for the door. Hank was right there and grabbed her around the waist. Lori thrashed and flailed about like a fish out of water. Hank finally seized control of her by grabbing her around both wrists.
Red’s head swiveled towards Hank, and his momentary lapse in concentration was all Brewster needed. As Red turned his eyes to Lori by the door, Brewster grabbed hold of Red’s arm and threw it into the air. Without hesitation, Red kicked out his right leg and smashed it into Brewster’s right knee, sending him to the ground. Stumps made his move as well and grabbed Red from behind.
“Uncle Red!” Lori screamed. Tears of fright and terror were streaming down her face.
Stumps reached for the gun, and both men struggled to grab hold of it. Brewster was on the ground holding his knee and rose to get up and help Stumps. As both Red and Stumps held onto the gun, Brewster viciously punched the old man’s stomach. The blow from the punch made Red crouch low. As he came down, so did his arm, and so did Stumps. The fierce impact caused either Red or Stumps, neither was sure who, to pull the trigger.
The gun was so loud that both Lori and Hank grabbed their ears. Stumps backed away from Red and saw that Red was still holding the gun. They looked down and saw Brewster bleeding from his chest. Blood was oozing out of a small quarter-sized hole between his rib cages.
“Oh my God,” Lori said.
“What the hell did you do?” Stumps said. “I’m getting out of here.”
Stumps was the first one out the door but didn’t get very far. He was broadsided by a punch to the face.
<><><><><>
As the sun slowly drifted behind the tall pine trees around Augusta National, Craig crept down the narrow path to the storage sheds that Hank and Red had just entered. He tilted his head to the door and heard many voices inside, most importantly, Lori’s. Craig was around the side looking for another way in when he heard the gunshot. He ran to the front and threw a punch at the first person that came out of the door. Stumps went down like a pile of bricks.
Craig walked inside the door and saw everyone turn in his direction. There was Lori, Hank, Red, and a man on the floor, writhing in pain. Lori was closest to the entranceway and immediately threw her arms around Craig.
“Oh, Craig, thank God you’re here!” Lori said between sobs.
“It’s okay,” he said, comforting her.
“Well, well, the hero to the rescue,” Hank said.
Craig ignored the comment and kept hugging Lori.
“You sure were the man today, Craig. Caddying for Chet Walker, winner of the Masters. What a lucky man.”
Red had lowered the gun by now and bent down to check on Brewster’s status. His hand was over his chest and blood was forming a large, dark, ugly stain on his shirt. Red didn’t know what to do and looked around for something to stop the pressure. He found a few rags nearby and dropped them onto his chest. “Here, this will help.”
Brewster was shaking and tried talking, but all that came out of his lips were bubbles of blood.
“Uncle Red, you have to call 911,” Lori said.
“I will, sweetheart,” he replied.
Hank walked closer to Red and said loud enough for Craig and Lori to hear, “So, Red, what are we going to do with these folks?”
Red simply said, “Nothing.”
“What?” Hank asked incredulously.
“You heard me. Get out of here, and let them go. It’s over, Hank.” He waved the gun towards the door.
Hank felt his face flush and his knees tremble. His life was over. He lost the money he wagered against Chet Walker to lose the Masters, he lost his company to his best friend, and his company now owed five million dollars to Walker. Added to which, the charges he may now face for kidnapping and murder. He turned towards Red with a look of fury.
“Don’t even think it,” Red said, waving the gun at him.
Hank walked towards the door and thought about his course of action. He looked back at Brewster and saw that his breathing had slowed and his head was rolling back and forth on the floor.
“I want some answers,” Lori demanded. “Uncle Red, why did you try and stop Chet from winning?”
Red put his head down and grabbed his knees. “I never meant this to happen.”
“You can answer her, can’t you, Tucker?” Craig said.
Red lifted his head in shock and amazement at the sound of his given name and smiled.
“Tucker?” Lori said.
“That’s right, Lori. You didn’t know his real name?”
Lori’s eyes drifted to the roof, and she tilted her head. “For as long as I can remember, we just called him Uncle Red.”
“Tucker Maitland played in the 1956 Masters and was paired with William Walker, Chet’s grandfather. In short, Tucker, or Red, as he’s now known, decided to cheat a little and Walker caught him and
turned him in. He lost the Masters and basically lost his mind. So, what better way to enact revenge than to prevent Walker’s grandson from winning.”
“Is this true, Uncle?” Lori asked.
“Of course it is,” Hank said.
“I’m sorry, pumpkin,” Red said, tears now filling his eyes. “It was so foolish of me to keep this hatred towards what happened bottled up, but I did. I felt such resentment towards Walker, and I’ve waited years to seek my revenge. Chet had nothing to do with what happened years ago. I should have never interfered with the sanctity of this tournament.” He walked slowly towards her. “I’m sorry to have let you down.”
Lori backed up just slightly, and Red sensed her reluctance. He walked past her to the door. “Get this man some help,” he said, looking at Brewster.
“Where are you going?” Lori asked.
“To do what’s necessary,” Red said and walked out the door. He turned to Lori and said, “I love you, angel.”
The three of them looked over at Brewster, who now lay motionless. The only sound was the small amount of air still left in his lungs, forcing its way through the open wound and the puddles of blood. His arms were to his side, and his chest slowly rose and fell.
“Well, Craig, I must be going, too,” Hank said. “Take care of this man, like Red said.”
“Wait, just answer me this. Why were you involved?” Craig asked.
“Money,” Hank said and opened the door. “You’ll find out soon enough why Coldridge had such a rooting interest in Chet losing. But unfortunately, I won’t be around to read about it.”
Hank was gone. Craig looked out the door and saw him sprinting up the path towards the clubhouse. He also noticed that the man he knocked out was no longer lying on the ground. He turned back towards Lori, and she threw her arms around him again. He pulled her away just enough to say, “Lori, we have to get him some help.” Craig nodded in Brewster’s direction. But it was going to be too late. Brewster’s breathing had stopped, and his eyes rolled back into his head. The blood on the floor was turning a dark crimson red.
Craig grabbed her by the hand and walked out of the storage shed back towards the clubhouse at Augusta.
<><><><><>
His choice of location was not that difficult. In 1977, Augusta National founder Clifford Roberts chose this location himself. It was just beyond the southern edge of the par-three course, down a steep incline to an area along the edge of Ike’s pond, named after the former President. There would be plenty of foot traffic the following day as workers walked this path to their jobs at Augusta.
Clifford Roberts had written:
Dear Betty,
I am sorry.
I love you.
Cliff
Tucker “Red” Maitland wrote:
Dear all, Please excuse my actions, especially this last one. Congratulations to Mr. Walker. I am sorry. I will apologize to your grandfather when I see him. To Augusta, please carry on the traditions and excellence of the Masters. It was a thrill to be a member of the greatest golf club in these states. To Lori and my family, I am sorry I let you down. Please do not fret over me. I was wrong, and I accept my punishment.
Red
And just like Clifford Roberts did in 1977, Red Maitland put the 9mm handgun to his temple and pulled the trigger.
MONDAY
Chet Walker – 11
Pat Hitchens -10
Chapter 35
If you were one of the lucky few, mostly sportswriters, large corporate sponsors, television executives, and sometimes volunteers, you had the chance to play Augusta National the day after the Masters ended. There was a drawing for who got the right to play, and if you won, you were eliminated from the drawing for the next ten years. Some writers were only allowed to play the par-three course.
Craig Waltrip was one of the lucky few. Not because he was a sportswriter or volunteer or worked for Coldridge. Actually, if not for some careful persuasion, Craig would have been escorted off the course as soon as the members heard he had worked for Coldridge.
He stood on the first tee with his caddy. For the first time in twenty-four hours, someone was caddying for him. His name was Ryan, and he had caddied at Augusta for the past twelve years. Craig joked that he could teach Ryan a few things based on his experiences the day before, but Ryan was not the joking kind.
Monday morning’s newspaper was littered with stories about the Masters tournament. Chet Walker’s victory was overshadowed by the tragedy that took place. It was not long after Red fired the fateful shot that groundskeepers found his body and called the authorities. By the time they arrived, Craig and Lori were already in the clubhouse explaining their story to the President of Augusta National, Blaine Dugan.
Craig explained how he heard about the meeting between his boss, Hank, and one of their own, Red. How they conspired to try and help Chet lose the golf tournament. Lori described her kidnapping and the fact that one of the two men was now dead. It was later revealed that Stumps was caught at the airport when he tried to get on a plane using a fake ID. He was apprehended and charged with numerous crimes, eventually confessing to the murder of Missy Banner.
They made clear Red’s intentions and how he sought out revenge in the form of Chet for an incident that happened sixty years ago. Craig gave up his boss. The authorities tried to find him, but they would never succeed. Archie arrived and told them about Hank, his problems, and his nature for avoiding them at all costs. He told them that if Hank did not want to be found, he never would be. The authorities tended to disagree, but Archie stood his ground.
Lori was very upset as soon as she learned about her Uncle Red, but surprisingly got over his death rather quickly. She never knew this man, she explained. Her Uncle Red, the one she grew up with, the one who took her golfing, would always remain in her heart.
They spoke to Mr. Dugan and the local police until late in the evening. Chet Walker even stopped in after his congratulatory speech and green jacket presentation to check on his new friends. He verified the accuracy of their statements and vouched for their stories.
Craig and Lori went home together Sunday evening to Lori’s hotel room and slept in the same bed for the first time. Both were too tired to force any sexual interaction, but they knew it was inevitable the next morning. And it was. They were almost late for their nine o’clock tee time.
Craig and Lori were joined by Chet as a threesome that sunny Monday morning as invited guests of Masters Champion, Mr. Walker. He gave Lori the honor on the tee box since she was going to play the white tees as well that day. She stepped up and smashed a high drive right down the center of the fairway.
“See,” she said, smiling, “I told you I played before.”
“She’s gonna kick your ass, Craig,” Chet said.
“We’ll see about that.” He stuck his tee in the ground and proceeded to slice one into the woods. They all laughed and watched Chet’s tee shot get lost in the sky.
“Any wagers today?” Lori asked.
“What do you want to bet?” Craig asked.
“Not sure, but just me and you. Chet, you’re out. Sorry,” Lori responded.
“Craig, maybe you’d like to bet your share from yesterday,” Chet responded.
“Huh?” Craig said.
“Yeah. I don’t have it with me, of course, but you’ll be getting the standard caddy fee.”
“Are you serious?” Craig said. “I can’t take that.”
“You can and you will,” Chet said. He tilted his head to the sky and said, “Let’s see, I won one point two million. Ten percent for winning goes to the caddy; that’s one hundred twenty thousand. You only caddied one day, so one fourth of that is thirty thousand. That’s what I owe you, minus the government, of course.”
“Holy shit!” Craig said.
“I can’t thank you enough for yesterday,” Chet said.
“No problem, anytime. I mean anytime!”
“Now that you mention it,” Chet said. “I spoke to Sta
n early this morning, and he’s going to be rehabbing his leg the rest of the season. I have the Buick in two weeks. Wanna give it a shot?”
“Yes!” Lori screamed.
“What? Are you serious?” Craig asked.
“Dead serious,” Chet replied.
“I’ll come on tour with you guys,” Lori said, very excited. “I can be a caddy’s girlfriend and hang out with all the other girls on tour.”
“Five percent each week unless I win, then it’s ten. Remember, this is only temporary until Stan comes back. Or until you annoy me enough.”
They all laughed as they approached their balls.
“So, we have a deal?” Chet asked, sticking out his hand.
Craig thought about it for less than a second. “Deal!”
Lori jumped up and down and wrapped her arms around Craig and gave him a kiss on the lips. “I’m serious about coming, Craig, if that’s alright with you.”
“It’s perfectly fine with me.”
Craig was first to hit out of the rough on the right and sent a nice high six iron to the center of the green. Although he would three-putt the hole, he ended up shooting 94 and never felt better. Even though he lost to Lori by one stroke.
Acknowledgments
There is a book that inspired this novel and I recommend it to everyone. Some of the facts about Augusta National and its history were brought about by reading:
The Making of the Masters – David Owen (Simon & Schuster)
Although it’s been a while, I’d like to thank the Brandywine Writers Group and moderator/author, Lara Zeises. All of you in some shape or form contributed to making sure my writing got better each and every session. Thank you to fellow authors Cindy Callaghan, Bryan Gilmer and Bryan Gruley. Thanks for your advice and tips on how to make it in the writing world. Author, and cousin, Steve McKee, I came to you fifteen years ago looking for advice and you never once led me astray. Now that Deep Rough is a reality, I hope I won’t be bothering you anymore.
Deep Rough - A Thriller in Augusta Page 21