Trick or Treat (A Dead Cold Mystery Book 14) by Blake Banner

Author:Blake Banner [Banner, Blake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-01-02T23:00:00+00:00

Eleven

The East 2nd Casino Hotel was a sprawling, four story building in red brick and beige that stood directly opposite the Greater Nevada baseball field. I pulled into the underground parking lot, found a space and we took the elevator up to the foyer. There was a lot of brown leather and red carpeting, and just past the reception desk on the right, a huge arch led to three broad steps that took you down into the ninth circle of hell, where all the fruit machines are.

Behind the reception desk there were a pretty young woman and a pretty young man, both in blue suits. He had a burgundy tie and she had a burgundy scarf. They both had very white teeth which they displayed like badges of office.

“Good afternoon, my name is Sally. How can I help you today?” She said that.

I said, “We are police officers from New York. The Sheriff’s Department tells me I can find Joseph White here. I believe he is head of security.”

She picked up the internal phone, dialed three digits and smiled at me with her head on one side while it rang.

“Mr. White? There are two detectives from New York here to see you…” She held my eye while she listened and smiled, then said, “OK, thank you,” and hung up. “He’ll be right down if you’d like to sit down, or have a few games in the casino, or have a refreshing cocktail in the Cavendish Cocktail Lounge.”

We strolled over to a couple of brown leather armchairs and sat. I said, “It’s amazing what they can do with artificial intelligence these days.”

“She was definitely artificial, Stone, but intelligence…?”

I snorted a laugh but didn’t have time to answer, because a tall, athletic man in his sixties had entered the foyer from a broad staircase. He had hair graying at the temples, a dark blue, double-breasted blazer with brass buttons, and gray slacks. His black patent shoes were military clean and he had a chest like a sherry cask. He glanced at reception and AI Sally showed him her gleaming teeth and pointed at us. We stood as he approached. Dehan stuck out her hand as he made to reach for mine.

“Mr. White, I am Detective Carmen Dehan of the 43rd Precinct in New York. This is my partner Detective John Stone. I wonder if you could spare us five minutes of your time to talk about Cyril Browne?”

He watched her carefully as she spoke, with a small frown on his brow. When she’d finished, he said, “Cyril who now?”

“Cyril Browne. The man who is part of the foundations of this building.”

His eyebrows went up and his mouth made an ‘O’. He nodded. “Sure, sure. Let’s go up to my office.”

His office was a cubby hole up a short flight of steps. There was no window, but he had a wooden desk, a black imitation leather chair and two chairs for visitors. As he sat, he said, “Can I see some ID?”

We showed

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