Characters in A Face in the Crowd

“Totally pumped,” Evers said hollowly. “Great night for a ball game.” Now Adrian Gonzalez was stepping in.

It was then, just as King Felix caught Ben Zobrist looking, that Evers saw, three rows deep, in the same pinstripe suit he was buried in, his old business partner Leonard Wheeler.

Can’t even watch the game in peace. “Yello,” he said. “Who’m I talkin’ to?” The voice of Chuckie Kazmierski was high and truculent, his I’m-ready-tofight voice.

And then there she was, right behind David Ortiz, holding up her phone. He pressed TALK. “Hello?” he said. “Finally,” she said. “Why didn’t you pick up?” “I don’t know.

As David Price breezed through the lineup, Evers noted with dismay several fans in the padded captain’s chairs behind the plate talking on their cell …

“Totally pumped,” Evers said hollowly. “Great night for a ball game.” Now Adrian Gonzalez was stepping in. And there, sitting in the first row right behind the screen, doing a fair impersonation of a craggy old snowbird playing out his golden years in the Sunshine State, was Dean Patrick Evers.

“I told that cop he was full of shit! Detective Kelly, my ass.” “What in hell are you talking about?” “Some ass-knot pretending to be a cop’s what I’m talkin’ about.

“What the heck is Wells up to, Dewayne?” “Li’l crunk move, I ’spec,” Dewayne Staats vamped, and they both chuckled. Enough with the sparkling repartee, Evers thought.

He recognized Don Blanton, who’d been questioned during a child pornography investigation in the midnineties and had hung himself in his Malden garage.

… pomaded hair slicked back, solid and stoic as a tiki god, was Evers’s old dentist from Shrewsbury, Dr. Young. Young Dr. Young, his mother had called him, because even when Evers was a child, he’d been old. He’d been a Marine in the Pacific, had …

He punched 29 and ESPN came on. Shields was dealing to Dustin Pedroia, second in the Sox lineup. The game had just started. I’m doomed to baseball, Evers thought. “Dino? Earth to Dino Martino! You still there?

… Lennie Wheeler in his pinstripe funeral suit and Grandfather Lincoln with his cane and Martha and Ellie and his mother and father and all the people he’d ever wronged in his life. As they filed into his row from both sides, he stuck his phone …

… briskly up the ramp and handed the ticket to a crusty usher who was standing there and watching as Elliot Johnson dug in against Josh Beckett. At the very least, the geezer was a good half century older than his employers. Like so many of his kind, he …

You’re on TV, bitch, good fucking job.” He got up and poured himself a scotch. In the ninth Ellsbury snuck a seeing-eye single through the right side, and the crowd rose and applauded Moore for his effort.

He looked around, phone in hand, and saw the spotted usher creakily leading Uncle Elmer and Aunt June down the stairs, and several girls he’d dated in high school, including the one who’d been sort of semiconscious—or maybe …

“You’re going shack whacky,” Evers said. “That’s all.” The Mariners’ ace, Felix Hernandez, was going for them, and King Felix was on. The game was fast.

The game came back on while he was waiting for the Resolve to set. Hellickson was still dealing for the Rays, and he was sharp.

… blue fur not found anywhere in the natural world, flopped across the seats, shaking his fist behind Ichiro’s back. “You’re going shack whacky,” Evers said. “That’s all.” The Mariners’ ace, Felix Hernandez, was going for them, and King Felix was …

… there would be another great match-up tomorrow night at the Trop—Josh Beckett squaring off against James Shields—he didn’t have to watch. His last thought was that from now on, he’d have more time to read. Lee Child, maybe. He’d been meaning to get to …

“Jesus, I was a kid.” The TV returned to live action—very lively, in fact. Joe Maddon and the home plate ump stood toe to toe and nose to nose.

… the ticket to a crusty usher who was standing there and watching as Elliot Johnson dug in against Josh Beckett. At the very least, the geezer was a good half century older than his employers. Like so many of his kind, he was in no hurry. It was one …

He had no right to it! “Oh-oh, that’s a loo-oong drive!” Dewayne Staats was bellowing. “Justin Smoak smoked aaa-alll of that one!”

Kyle Seager stood in. Behind him, in the third row, the seat where Wheeler had been was empty.

… Evers saw, three rows deep, in the same pinstripe suit he was buried in, his old business partner Leonard Wheeler. Leonard Wheeler—always Leonard, never Lennie—was eating a hot dog and washing it down with what ESPN’s Sports Center smartasses were …

He’d earned his spot as top dog the hard way, with knuckles and blood, and he took Lester Embree’s helplessness as a personal insult. No one had ever given him a break, and now this whingeing hillbilly was asking for a free pass?

… haggard after a double shift, and Lennie Wheeler in his pinstripe funeral suit and Grandfather Lincoln with his cane and Martha and Ellie and his mother and father and all the people he’d ever wronged in his life. As they filed into his row …

Longoria doubled to the gap in left center, and Upton tried to score from first. The throw beat him but was wide, up the first baseline.

Luke Scott hit a bullet to the Mariners’ second baseman, and in the wink of an eye, the Trop was gone and Evers was left with the Aflac duck, who was …

… shift, and Lennie Wheeler in his pinstripe funeral suit and Grandfather Lincoln with his cane and Martha and Ellie and his mother and father and all the people he’d ever wronged in his life. As they filed into his row from both sides, he stuck …

… up to Coben’s patented terror-in-the-burbs, not even when it was Jon Lester matched up against Matt Moore. How had he ever become interested in such a slow, boring sport to begin with? He put away his groceries and settled onto the sofa. The …

Behind them came Miss Pritchett with her hair down for once, and Mrs. Carlisle from the drugstore, and the Jansens, the elderly neighbors whose deposit bottles he’d stolen …

Behind them came Miss Pritchett with her hair down for once, and Mrs. Carlisle from the drugstore, and the Jansens, the elderly neighbors whose deposit bottles he’d stolen off their back porch.

… to tell her how much he missed her, and what his days were like, and how he wished he was closer to Pat and Sue and the grandkids, because, really, there was no one else he could talk to. He dug the phone from his pocket. Though he’d …

As if to answer his question with a cosmic Bronx cheer, Raymond, the team’s mascot, a creature with blue fur not found anywhere in the natural world, flopped across the seats, shaking his fist behind …

… doofy bowl cut were visible above the FOX 13 ad recessed into the wall’s blue padding, and then, as Upton clearly evaded the tag with a nifty hook slide, the quiet boy Evers and his friends had witnessed being pulled wrinkled and fingerless from …

“Never seen that one before,” one of the Rays’ announcers said. “What the heck is Wells up to, Dewayne?” “Li’l crunk move, I ’spec,” Dewayne Staats vamped, and they both chuckled.