Marvin made his exit once Coach Baba Dudut finished chewing him out about the newspaper article. He went home fuming. The Leapers were another contending team and Marvin couldn't understand why Coach, despite his anger, would send him home and put in a lower ranked substitute. Surely he knew they needed to put forth their best efforts against the Leapers?

He arrived home around 6 PM after fighting with rush hour traffic. He immediately opened up a beer and sat down in the theater room to watch a movie classic, Gone With The Wind, whose title about expressed his feelings about the Doublejumpers chances against Los Angeles. He was so upset he didn't even want to watch the Checker Television Network or read a checker newspaper or magazine.

An hour or so later his wife, Priscilla, returned home in her chauffeur driven Rolls Royce limousine. Priscilla, as the CEO of the giant international conglomerate, Rust Belt Holdings, nearly always worked late, and 7 PM was a relatively early time for her to return to her 5,000 square foot luxury condo.

She heard the movie playing in the theater room, and when she went to look, to her surprise Marvin was in one of the reclining leather chairs, sleeping, with an empty can of beer at his side.

Priscilla switched off the movie and gave Marvin a gentle shake of the shoulders. "Marvin," she said, "what are you doing here? Don't you have a match tonight?"

Marvin shuddered and woke. "Huh, wha ... ? Oh, hi honey," he said. "Yeah, well about that match ... "

Priscilla guided Marvin into the living room where they sat together on one of the Chesterfields. "Can I get another beer?" Marvin muttered.

"No, dear," Priscilla replied, "dinner will be served soon and you don't need more beer. Now, tell me what happened."

Marvin told Priscilla the whole story, about the phone call from the investigative reporter, Carol Catchem, the unfortunate news story in the New York Times-Herald, and Coach's subsequent anger. "It just don't seem right," Marvin concluded.

Priscilla looked pensive, and after a few moments she said, "No, it isn't quite right. But neither was it right for you to have given that pushy reporter so much ammunition for an attack piece."

"I 'spose," Marvin said, "but now I'm suspended for the whole series with the Leapers and it ain't gonna end well.

Marvin and Priscilla had their dinner, prepared as usual by Priscilla's private chef; the appetizer was Oysters Rockefeller, the main dish was Coq au Vin, and the dessert was Profiteroles au Chocolat. Each course was naturally accompanied by an appropriate wine.

"I think I'll go to bed early," Marvin said, but he couldn't resist checking on the results of the Doublejumper match that evening.

The first four boards had played well against the Leapers but the team had lost the match thanks to poor play by substitute Maxie Minima. She was on fifth board and managed to lose by playing 17-21 in the following position.

It had happened again. A substitute player on 5th board had cost the Doublejumpers the match. Marvin was beside himself. He wanted to call Coach on the phone but in the end thought better of it. Neither could he protest in person, as Coach had banned him from the Checkerdrome until the three match homestand with the Leapers was over.

The following morning after the usual early breakfast with Priscilla, who liked to get to work no later than 7 AM, Marvin poured himself a second cup of coffee and picked up the morning newspaper. He didn't have the heart to turn to the sports section and read further about the Doublejumpers' loss last night, so he browsed the news.

To his surprise and shock, on the fifth or sixth page he saw the following story.

INVESTIGATIVE REPORTER KILLED IN PEDESTRIAN ACCIDENT

"The famed New York Herald-Times investigative reporter, Carol Catchem, was killed in a pedestrian accident last night near Times Square. Witnesses said Ms. Catchem was waiting at a crosswalk for the light to change, when a large black sedan with heavily tinted windows swerved onto the sidewalk and hit Ms. Catchem. She was pronounced dead at the scene. No one else was injured. Police are investigating. Witnesses further reported that they didn't think the sedan bore any license plates."

"Hola mola," exclaimed Marvin, "I just talked to that gal and like, got into trouble and stuff. And now lookit what happened ..."

Marvin gave this further thought and didn't like what he was thinking. He didn't really believe in coincidences, and this was one colossal coincidence--- if that's what it was.

# # #

Marvin went out for a run to clear his head, then took a long hot shower. He supposed he had ought to be doing some checker study, but he wouldn't be playing for another couple of days and so decided to give himself a day off.

He hadn't had lunch, and it was now already two in the afternoon. Priscilla wouldn't be home for a while and dinner wouldn't be until eight. Rather than dig in the fridge (Priscilla's chef didn't serve lunch on workdays) Marvin decided that maybe a little bar food--- and a theraputic beer or two--- would be in order.

So he dressed casually and headed out for his favorite local dive bar. He would never drink and drive so he called for a taxi; dive bars didn't exist in Priscilla's very posh neighborhood, and so there was some little distance to travel.

He made limited small talk with the cab driver, who of course instantly recognized him and wanted to talk checkers, but Marvin was pretty laconic. The cab driver seemed a bit miffed but Marvin gave him a good tip and that seemed to satisfy him.

Marvin was well known at the bar, too, being something of a frequent customer when the Doublejumpers were at home, but the bar patrons and bartenders generally left him to himself unless he invited conversation. Today, he didn't. He just ordered a plate of sliders and a beer and sat quietly on his bar stool.

Time went by faster than Marvin realized, and before he knew it he had had several beers, several plates of sliders, and now it was fully dark outside. "Oops," he said, "Priscilla ain't gonna like this." Turning to the bartender, he said, "Put the tab on my card and call me a taxi, Dan, 'kay?"

"Sure Marv," Dan replied. "Good to see you here. You have a nice evening and say hi for me to that pretty wife of yours."

We'll at least say this much for Marvin; he had drunk his beers slowly and was still mostly sober and reasonably steady on his feet.

"See ya, everybody!" he said, waving in no particular direction. He made his way out the door and stood on the sidewalk in front of the bar, waiting for his cab. It was a cool night and Marvin hadn't brought a jacket.

"C'mon, taxi," he said, wrapping his arms around himself, "I'm kinda chilly out here."

Just at that moment a long black limousine pulled up to the curb. Three large men in leather jackets poured out of the vehicle and ran straight at Marvin. Two of them grabbed him by an arm each while the third one gave Marvin a hard punch to the solar plexus. All the air rushed out of Marvin's lungs and he went limp. The thugs piled Marvin into the limo, with one on each side of him and one on the opposite bench seat.

"Ve take you for leetle ride," one of them said. "Ve teach you someting about talking vit reporters."

The limo sped away from the curb and hurried off into the night.

# # #

It wasn't until maybe one in the morning when a patrol car spotted an inert form under a bridge some miles from the bar Marvin had visited. The car stopped and the two patrolmen manning it got out to have a look.

They rolled the body over. "He's breathing, one of them said, and then the other remarked, "Why ... that's Marvin J. Mavin! Someone's beaten him pretty badly!"

# # #

Priscilla was by now quite worried. Marvin wasn't at home when she arrived and wasn't responding to his cell phone. She was about to call the police when her own phone rang.

"Ms. Snelson?" the voice on the other end said. "This is Dr. Walters at City Hospital. We have your husband here. He's suffered quite a beating but there's a good chance that he'll make it."

Priscilla, in shock, could barely reply. "What ... what do you mean ... "

"I'd suggest you come down here right away," Dr. Walters said. "For one thing, there's a police detective that wants to talk to you."

Priscilla quickly called for her limo and the driver sped as rapidly as possible to City Hospital.

"I want to see him," Priscilla said upon arrival. 'My husband. Marvin J. Mavin. I want to see him. Now."

The reception desk called for Dr. Walters, who arrived in a minute or so. "This way, Ms. Snelson," he said, "but perhaps it would be best to wait ... "

"I want to see him now," Priscilla repeated in a tone that brooked no contradiction.

"As you wish, ma'am," the doctor said.

But when Priscilla entered Marvin's room and saw him, she burst into uncontrollable tears.

To be continued.

---

It looks like this time our hero has run into real trouble and perhaps his life may be in danger. We'll learn more in next month's episode. Meanwhile, though, there's still that checker problem to solve, and it presents no physical danger that we can think of. Risk solving it and then click on Read More to see the solution.

Solution

*20-16 12-19---A *17-14 10-17---B *3-7, 25-18 *7-21 White Wins.

A---If 11-20, *2-7 25-18 7-30 13-22 *5-9 20-24 *9-14 24-27 *14-18. White Wins.

B---If 25-9, *5-30. White Wins. Or if 26-17, *14-23 White Wins.

The losing move 21-17?? probably hoped for the losing 26-17?? in reply, something highly unlikely to happen in top-level play.

Today's problem comes from Bill Salot's 4th problem contest and was composed by late grandmaster problemist Ed Atkinson.