they?”
“Cops are like heroes. They make TV shows about cops. When was there ever a series about a private security guard?”
And that of course proves, a posteriori, that security guards are without merit. “I suppose you have a point.”
“I mean, here I am, right on the premises, with a badge and a gun and everything, but those guys outside would never dream of asking for my help. Wouldn’t even cross their minds.” He released a slow sigh. “Here.” He tossed the paper back. “All that little print makes my head hurt.”
There were smudges on the main story, big black remnants of Harv’s Frankensteinian thumbs. He hated that. He didn’t want to read a paper that had been pawed over by illiterates. And this one was important; he needed this story for his History. He would have to pick up another copy on his drive home.
His eyes returned to the main story under the banner headline:
MURDER VICTIM “BURIED”
IN CASINO GRAVEYARD
BY JONATHAN WOOLEY
An unidentified nude female corpse completely shaved of body hair was discovered early Tuesday morning in a mock graveyard located at the multimillion-dollar Transylvania resort hotel, authorities revealed yesterday afternoon. The body was placed in a wooden coffin and buried under a thin layer of dirt. The graveyard is part of the hotel’s Edgar Allan Poe gallery, one of several horror-themed tableaus on the ballroom floor.
“We’re just glad the body was discovered before the doors were opened,” said Transylvania owner Katherine Wentworth. “We wouldn’t want any of our guests to be disturbed.”
Police officials remained tight-lipped about the investigation, but LVPD Chief of Police Robert O’Bannon indicated that they were pursuing several leads.
“Obviously, the irony of depositing a body in a fake graveyard was more than someone could resist. We’ve taken evidence, which should allow us to identify the victim in time. The large number of tourists coming in and out of Vegas makes a quick ID difficult. Nonetheless, we have all our top officers working on it and have every reason to believe we will identify the victim-and her assailant-in short order.”
At a press conference later in the day, a representative of the LVPD Homicide Department, Lieutenant Barry Granger, stated that preliminary tests indicated that the victim had died of suffocation. Several unanswered questions still remained about…
In other words, they knew nothing. He allowed himself a tiny smile. They didn’t know who Helen was, they didn’t know who he was, and they had no glimmer of the magnitude of what they had stumbled across. At least not most of them…
His eyes scanned the page and then the continuation on page three, searching for the information he wanted. Yes, yes, he knew O’Bannon, that blowhard was on television all the time. There were repeated references to Lieutenant Granger, who during his initial crime scene appearance seemed almost deliberately slow-witted. But what of the raven-haired beauty? Who was she? What was she doing there? Given the way she was treated by most of the other police officers, it was tempting to conclude that she was an unauthorized visitor, that she had no connection to them. But he knew that was wrong. He had seen the way she moved, the way she carried herself. She was on familiar ground. She had done this before. Had she been brought in from another jurisdiction? He had to find out.
“So I’m thinking maybe I’ll just march right up and introduce myself to ’em. What’d’ya think about that?”
“What?” He looked up. Had Harv been babbling the entire time he was reading? “Who?”
“The cops, Ernie. I’m thinking maybe I’ll tell them I’m available. Who knows? They might like the chance to work with someone who knows the lay of the land.”
“They won’t give you the time of day,” he replied. “If you had something to tell them, then maybe-”
He stopped short. That was it. If he had something to
“Cops are like heroes. They make TV shows about cops. When was there ever a series about a private security guard?”
And that of course proves, a posteriori, that security guards are without merit. “I suppose you have a point.”
“I mean, here I am, right on the premises, with a badge and a gun and everything, but those guys outside would never dream of asking for my help. Wouldn’t even cross their minds.” He released a slow sigh. “Here.” He tossed the paper back. “All that little print makes my head hurt.”
There were smudges on the main story, big black remnants of Harv’s Frankensteinian thumbs. He hated that. He didn’t want to read a paper that had been pawed over by illiterates. And this one was important; he needed this story for his History. He would have to pick up another copy on his drive home.
His eyes returned to the main story under the banner headline:
MURDER VICTIM “BURIED”
IN CASINO GRAVEYARD
BY JONATHAN WOOLEY
An unidentified nude female corpse completely shaved of body hair was discovered early Tuesday morning in a mock graveyard located at the multimillion-dollar Transylvania resort hotel, authorities revealed yesterday afternoon. The body was placed in a wooden coffin and buried under a thin layer of dirt. The graveyard is part of the hotel’s Edgar Allan Poe gallery, one of several horror-themed tableaus on the ballroom floor.
“We’re just glad the body was discovered before the doors were opened,” said Transylvania owner Katherine Wentworth. “We wouldn’t want any of our guests to be disturbed.”
Police officials remained tight-lipped about the investigation, but LVPD Chief of Police Robert O’Bannon indicated that they were pursuing several leads.
“Obviously, the irony of depositing a body in a fake graveyard was more than someone could resist. We’ve taken evidence, which should allow us to identify the victim in time. The large number of tourists coming in and out of Vegas makes a quick ID difficult. Nonetheless, we have all our top officers working on it and have every reason to believe we will identify the victim-and her assailant-in short order.”
At a press conference later in the day, a representative of the LVPD Homicide Department, Lieutenant Barry Granger, stated that preliminary tests indicated that the victim had died of suffocation. Several unanswered questions still remained about…
In other words, they knew nothing. He allowed himself a tiny smile. They didn’t know who Helen was, they didn’t know who he was, and they had no glimmer of the magnitude of what they had stumbled across. At least not most of them…
His eyes scanned the page and then the continuation on page three, searching for the information he wanted. Yes, yes, he knew O’Bannon, that blowhard was on television all the time. There were repeated references to Lieutenant Granger, who during his initial crime scene appearance seemed almost deliberately slow-witted. But what of the raven-haired beauty? Who was she? What was she doing there? Given the way she was treated by most of the other police officers, it was tempting to conclude that she was an unauthorized visitor, that she had no connection to them. But he knew that was wrong. He had seen the way she moved, the way she carried herself. She was on familiar ground. She had done this before. Had she been brought in from another jurisdiction? He had to find out.
“So I’m thinking maybe I’ll just march right up and introduce myself to ’em. What’d’ya think about that?”
“What?” He looked up. Had Harv been babbling the entire time he was reading? “Who?”
“The cops, Ernie. I’m thinking maybe I’ll tell them I’m available. Who knows? They might like the chance to work with someone who knows the lay of the land.”
“They won’t give you the time of day,” he replied. “If you had something to tell them, then maybe-”
He stopped short. That was it. If he had something to
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