Detective by Arthur Hailey Page B

military order. Facing him was
a conference table with eight
chairs. As in most police offices,
the effect was austere, relieved
slightly by a few photographs of
Yanes's grandchildren on a side
table.
    "You know the situation, Major,''
Newbold responded. "We're swamped.
Every detective is working
sixteen-hour
    DETECTIVE 97
    days or more, following every lead
we've got. These guys are near
exhaustion."
    Yanes waved an arm irritably. "Oh,
for Christ's sake! Sit down."
    When Newbold was seated, Yanes
declared, "Long hours and exhaustion
are part of this job and you know
it. So however much work you're
getting from everyone, drive 'em
harder. And remember this when
people are exhausted they're apt to
miss things, and it's our job to
make damn sure they don't. So I'm
telling you, Newbold, take a good,
hard look at every case, right now!
Make sure there's nothing undone
that should have been done. Go over
every detail and look especially
hard for connections between cases.
If I learn later that something
important has been overlooked, I
promise you'll regret ever having
told me your men are tired. Tired!
For Christ's sake!"
    Newbold sighed inwardly but said
nothing.
    Yanes concluded, "That's all,
Lieutenant."
    "Yes, sir." Newbold rose from his
chair, turned smartly and went out,
deciding that he would do exactly
what Manolo Yanes urged.
    It was less than a month after this
confrontation that as Leo Newbold
would describe it later "the whole
goddam roof fell in."
    The series of events began on August
14 at 11:12 A.M., when the temperature
in Miami was ninety-eight degrees
Fahrenheit and the humidity
eighty-five percent. Detective-
Sergeant Pablo Greene was heading
that day's Hot Team when a radio
call to Homicide headquarters, from
a uniform patrol officer named
Frankel, reported an apparent
    98 Arthur Halley
    murder at Pine Terrace Condominiums
on Biscayne Boulevard at 69th
Street.
    The victims were a Hispanic couple
in their sixties named Urbina,
Lazaro and Luisa. A male neighbor,
after knocking on their door and
getting no response, peered in
through a window. Seeing two bound
figures, he forced the door open,
then moments later used the Urbinas'
phone to call 911.
    The dead husband and wife were in
the living room of their four-room
condominium. Both victims had been
beaten, their bodies slashed by a
knife, and cruelly mutilated. Blood
had pooled on the floor around them.
    Sergeant Greene, a twenty-year
Miami Police veteran, tall, lean,
and with a bristling mustache, told
Frankel to secure the scene, then
urgently looked around the office
for someone to send.
    Standing up and surveying all of
Homicide, he could see that every
other detective's desk was empty.
The room was large, with a
half-dozen rows of small,
bureaucratic metal desks, set side
by side and separated by shoulder-
high dividers. Each desk contained
a multiple-line phone, several file
trays, overflowing, and in some
cases a computer terminal. Every
detective had his or her own desk,
and most had tried to personalize
their drab conformity with family
photos, drawings, or cartoons.
    In the entire room the only other
people were two harried secretaries,
busily answering phones. Today, as
every day, the calls were from
citizens, news media, members of
victims' families asking for
information about relatives' deaths,
politicians looking for answers to
the sudden rise in shootings, and
countless other sources, rational
and otherwise.
    Greene knew that all available
detectives were out working and, for
most of the summer, Homicide
headquarters
    DETECTIVE 99
    had looked the way it did today. His
own team of four was investigating
eight murders, and other teams were
under similar pressure.
    He would have to go to Pine Terrace
himself, Greene decided. Alone and
quickly.
    He looked down at the paperwork
piled on his desk two weeks'
arrears of crime records and other
reports that Lieutenant Newbold was
urging him to complete and knew he
must put the work aside yet again.
He