McGee would actually have been charged in the burglaries sooner had the county attorney not been considering him as a possible witness in the upcoming trial of Sun Devil linebacker Raythan Smith, in whose car McGee was riding when Smith allegedly pulled out a gun and shot a 19-year-old man after a dance on campus last March.
Faulkner's arrest followed by only four days his release from jail; he had been imprisoned for violating the probation he received after an earlier conviction for credit-card fraud. He would have been one of seven veteran players returning to coach Bill Frieder's basketball team after having been arrested if Frieder had not already dismissed him from the team. "I don't know," Frieder said wanly, "maybe I have a little too much faith in people."
It was the coach, of course, who set the tone three years ago, when he began systematically stocking his team with outlaws-in-waiting. Maybe the problem at Arizona State is that the school has had too much faith in coaches like Frieder.
Have You Seen This Man?
"Do not ask where the money comes from. No pictures of me. No going to training sessions. I warn you, there is a guard with a gun at the pool. Do not go near it. Do you understand?" These were the orders I received when I visited Hungary last January to write a story on the Hungarian swim team, pound for pound the most potent swimming team in the world. They were issued by a short, round, bespectacled 40-year-old man who often paused to open his office door and whisper directives to gofers and bodyguards in the anteroom.
The reason for all the mystery became clear last week. Gy�rgy Zempl�nyi, the president of the Hungarian Swimming Federation, became the target of an international manhunt after he vanished following the Barcelona Games under suspicion of embezzling $7 million.
Police sealed his apartment and his office at the Idea Tours travel agency in Budapest, from which Mr. Z ran an empire that included nightclubs, bars, furniture stores, a health-food store, a lamp store, a candy kiosk and a dance troupe. Creditors who had helped finance the swim team's training camps in Australia, Austria, Barcelona, Mauritius and even Hungary itself flooded the swimming federation with calls, demanding payments ranging from $4,800 to half a million dollars. The Hungarian consul in South Africa reported a sighting of Zempl�nyi there last week. No extradition treaty exists between Hungary and South Africa.
New accounts of Zempl�nyi's behavior also surfaced last week. A Budapest newspaper, Magyar Hirlap, quoted a bodyguard as saying that Zempl�nyi had increased his protective squad of former boxers, wrestlers and martial-arts experts to 12 before the Olympics and often insisted that one of them eat from Zempl�nyi's plate first, in case his food was poisoned.
Hungarian sports officials, basking in the glow of the five gold medals Hungarian swimmers won in Barcelona, seemed to be scurrying for cover. Swimming coach T�mas Sz�chy told newspapers that he had lost contact with Zempl�nyi after July 15, but at the end of July, Mr. Z was acting as interpreter for Hungarian medal winners at press conferences in Barcelona.
Norbert Rozsa, world-record holder and Barcelona silver medalist in the 100-meter breaststroke, was the swimmer closest to Zempl�nyi. After he was informed that the "stepfather" who had bought him a car and an apartment had vanished, Rozsa burst into tears.