Free Detective by Arthur Hailey Page A

corridor's end, he noticed
that the door of room 805 was
slightly ajar. From inside he could
hear the loud sound of a radio or
TV. He knocked, and when there was
no response, he inched open the
door. leaned inside, then gagged in
disgust at an overwhelming odor.
Holding a hand over his mouth, Cobo
moved forward into the room, and at
the sight of what faced him, his
legs weakened. Directly ahead, in a
pool of blood, were the bodies of a
man and a woman with dismembered
parts of their bodies around them.
    Cobo hastily closed the door,
composed himself with an effort,
then reached for a phone clipped to
his belt. He tapped out 911.
    A woman's voice answered,
"Nine-one-one emergency. Can I help
you?" A beep indicated the call was
being recorded.
    At Miami Police Communication
Center, a complaint clerk listened
while Orlando Cobo reported an
apparent double murder at the Royal
Colonial Hotel.
    "You say you're a security guard?"
    "Yes, ma'am."
    "Where are you?"
    "Right outside the room. It's
805.'' As the complaint clerk spoke,
she was typing the information on a
computer, to be read moments later
by a dispatcher in another section.
    "Stay there," the complaint clerk
told the caller. "Se
    DETECTIVE 73
    cure the room. Let no one in until
our officers arrive."
    A mile and a half away, a young
uniformed policeman, Tomas Ceballos,
in patrol unit l 64, was cruising
the South Dixie Highway when he
received a dispatcher's urgent call.
Immediately he swung his car hard
right, tires screaming, and, with
flashing lights and siren, headed
for the Royal Colonial.
    Minutes later, Officer Ceballos
joined the security guard outside
room 805.
    "I just checked with reception,"
Cobo told him, consulting a note.
"The room's registered to Mr. and
Mrs. Homer Frost from Indiana; the
lady's name is Blanche." He handed
over the note and a room key-card.
    Inserting the card, Ceballos
cautiously entered 805. Instantly he
recoiled, then forced himself to
take in the scene, knowing he would
need to describe it later.
    What he saw were the bodies of an
elderly man and woman, gagged and
bound and seated facing each other,
as if each had been witness to the
other's death. The victims' faces
had been beaten; the man's eyes and
face were burned. Both bodies were a
maze of knife cuts. In the
background a radio was playing hard
rock.
    Tomas Ceballos had seen enough.
Returning to the corridor, he used a
portable radio to call Dispatch; his
unit number would appear
automatically on the dispatcher's
screen. His voice wavered. "I need a
Homicide unit on Tac One."
    Tactical One was a radio channel
reserved for Homicide use.
Detective-Sergeant Malcolm Ainslie,
unit number 1310, was on his way to
work in an unmarked police car and
had already checked in with
Dispatch. Today Ainslie and his team
were the on-duty hot unit.
    The dispatcher alerted Ainslie, who
switched to Tac One. "Thirteen-ten
to one-sixty-four. QSK?"
    74 Arthur Halley
    "Two bodies at the Royal Colonial
Hotel," Ceballos responded. "Room
805. Possible thirty-one." He swal-
lowed, steadying his voice. "Make
that a definite thirtyone. It's a
bad one, real bad."
    A 31 was a homicide, and Ainslie
answered, "Okay, on my way. Secure
the scene. Don't allow anyone in
that room including yourself."
    Ainslie spun his car around on a
two-way street and pushed hard on
the accelerator. At the same time he
radioed Detective Bernard Quinn, a
member of Ainslie's team,
instructing Quinn to join him at the
Royal Colonial.
    His remaining detectives were
handling other murders and for the
time being unavailable. The past few
months had been rife with homicides;
investigations were piling up.
Today. it seemed, the grim reaping
was continuing.
    Ainslie and Quinn arrived at the
hotel within moments of each other,
and together headed for a bank of
elevators. Quinn, with graying hair
and a seamed, weathered face, was
impeccably dressed in a navy sports
jacket, immaculate gray slacks, and
a striped tie. A Britisher by birth
and an