Free In Between by Kate Wilhelm Page B

“Find that fucking rifle! Tell him what they’re looking for,” he added to the manager. Finally, he responded to Colonel. “Take me to the office he was working in.”
    â€œYou want to sit in on the interviews?” Sam asked Lori. “I’ll stick with the captain.”
    â€œGood enough,” she said. “But first a quick look at the office. I told you he was a colonel, didn’t I? He wants to take over.”
    Colonel was already half way through the lobby with the captain at his side. They went down a corridor and entered a room furnished with a desk, a sofa and several chairs, a television, and a conference table. The captain went to the desk and opened a laptop, scowled at it for a second and closed it again. He opened a file folder and glanced through a sheaf of papers, then held it out to Greg Sharon.
    â€œI’ll catch up with you later,” Lori said, and she vanished. Sam continued to watch and listen to Captain Conkling.
    â€œWe’ll look through the computer, see if there are threatening letters, anything like that. After that you can have it. What happened at dinner last night?”
    Greg Sharon blinked at the change of direction, cleared his throat, then said, “It was to celebrate Malcolm’s birthday. We were all there, toasts, the usual sort of thing. Mal was in a bad mood, though. He turned on Alex, his son, and said it was a surprise to see him, that he had not expected him to join in the festivities, since he was planning on destroying his own father, his family, the company if he could. Just like that, out of the blue. The young man rose and said he wished him a happy birthday and that he would leave first thing in the morning, this morning. Malcolm said he also had plans for the morning. He said he planned to call his attorney first thing and tell him to prepare a new will, one that would leave his only begotten son exactly one dollar.” Sharon cleared his throat again. “The young man left the group without another word, and Malcolm said, ‘Party’s over. I have some work to do.’ He left us all at the table. Awkward, damned awkward with his wife and daughter there, his son-in-law, the rest of us. Then someone said there were movies, and the bar would be open all night, we should help ourselves, and we dispersed. Some of us looked in on Malcolm before going to bed. About twelve thirty. He said he still had work to do.”
    The captain nodded, then went to one of the easy chairs and picked up a black suit coat draped over it. “Is that his, Vicente’s?”
    Sharon looked it over and nodded. “It looks like it. He was wearing it when we looked in last night. It was warm in the hotel. He might have become uncomfortable working.”
    â€œGo back to the others in the restaurant. We’ll take statements from everyone about last night. I’ll let you know when you can pick up the computer.”
    Sam stayed with the captain when he left the office, crossed the vast lobby, and entered the corridor to Vicente’s suite. When he knocked on the door, Royce opened it and stared at him blankly, and Alex, standing outside the sliding door to the walkway gazing out at the surround of mountains, didn’t even look back.
    â€œMr. Stossel?” Conkling asked, entering. At Royce’s nod, he motioned him toward a chair and introduced himself. He pulled a chair around to face Royce as he slumped into an easy chair. “I’d like to ask a few questions. First, is Mrs. Vicente around? Is your wife?”
    â€œLouise, my wife, is sitting with my mother-in-law. She had to have a tranquilizer. So upsetting, in shock. Marilyn’s trying to get some rest, pull herself together. Maybe you can delay talking to her for a couple of hours?”
    â€œNo problem, Mr. Stossel. What was the argument about at dinner last night?’
    Royce glanced at Alex, quickly averted his gaze and looked down at the carpet.