Designed to Kill by CHESTER D CAMPBELL

Author:CHESTER D CAMPBELL [CAMPBELL, CHESTER D]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: MYSTERY
Publisher: Durban House Publishing
Published: 2004-03-14T08:00:00+00:00

27

Jill swiveled in her chair as the machine noisily counted off a win of eighty coins. The look on her face, though, had shifted from pleasure to pure dismay.

“His neck was broken?”

“Right,” I said. “They found his car in another part of the island. They’re waiting for the autopsy to decide exactly what happened.”

“Do they suspect foul play?”

“They consider it a definite possibility. I asked the sergeant if they found any plans in his car. They didn’t.”

We had no time to discuss young O’Keefe’s death any further. As I looked off toward the section of the casino that housed the high-ticket slots, I saw a big man lumbering along dressed in a bright red shirt and blue jeans. I recognized Detrich immediately, though he appeared to be cultivating a new feature I hadn’t heard mentioned before—a mustache that ended at a thin line of beard, making a hairy full circle from his upper lip around his chin.

“There’s our man,” I said. “Do you want to keep on playing while I go approach him?”

She pressed the button to cash out, and coins began clattering into the tray. “Let me collect my payoff and I’ll go with you. You may need a witness if things get out of hand.”

I grinned. “I’m the cowardly lion. If things get out of hand, I’ll run.”

“Yeah. I know how you run. In Israel it almost cost you your life. I’m going with you.”

Jill toted her plastic can full of half dollars as we walked toward the row of machines where Detrich sat in front of a slot labeled $10. I noticed he had eighty tokens showing in the credit window. Unlike us peons, who rarely patronized even the dollar machines, he obviously was a high roller.

I sat down at the machine next to him and looked around. “I hope this is your lucky night, Mr. Detrich.”

He glanced over at me, frowning. “Do I know you?”

“Not until now,” I said, smiling. “My name is Greg McKenzie. I’m an investigator. I’ve been asked to look into that accident at The Sand Castle. Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Here at the casino?”

I shrugged. “That’s where we are.”

He grunted, then asked, “Got some identification?”

I pulled out my billfold and showed him my military ID. Behind the window across from it was a bronze coin with the OSI insignia and SPECIAL AGENT at the top. “I’m a retired special agent in charge with the Air Force Office of Special Investigations. This isn’t an official inquiry, Mr. Detrich. I’m making it on behalf of a close friend.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s his interest? He own one of the condo units?”

“I’d rather not say just yet.”

“You wouldn’t, huh? What sort of questions you got?”

“I understand the accident was caused by the use of rebars too small to carry the load and concrete of insufficient strength.”

“You been talking to the county building inspector?” he asked.

“I’ve talked to a number of people. They seem to agree on the basic cause.”

“They’re probably right.”

“I wondered why you used the particular rebars and concrete you did?”

“Jesus.

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