Read Online Summer People by Aaron Stander - Free Book Online Page B

physical evidence. But if this turns out to be the work of a hired killer, the case may never be solved.”
    “Never solved?” Lisa looked incredulous.
    “Never. I don’t know what the exact figures are on contract killings, but it’s fewer than ten percent. You can’t connect the killer through any motive, and, if he’s a competent professional, when the job is done he’s gone without leaving any evidence to tie him to the crime. In the cities you never notice this because these murders make the news and then are crowded out by the next day’s gruesome happenings. Arrests for this type of crime are few and far between. Non-arrests don’t make the news.”
    “How do you go about arranging—contracting—for a murder?” asked Lisa.
    “I think it’s quite informal, but people with the right connections know how to get all sorts of things done. From what I’ve been told, the arrangements for a job like this are usually done at a great distance so the source of the contract can’t be traced. And the successful hit men are known for being dependable. In this case the killer most likely drove into the area and checked into the Hilton. The guy probably looks like a middle-aged businessman, not the kind of hoods you see in the movies. He plays eighteen holes at the Bear everyday, talks and dresses like everyone else at the Hilton. He would take time to study his victim and develop a plan to do the job and get away. One shot—the victim’s spine was blown away—the right professional, the right tools, the right outcome.”
    “The right outcome for whom?” asked Lisa.

15

    The remains of the large sailboat lay on the concrete parking lot in the marina. Mike Ogden, the arson investigator, was waiting for Ray by the side of the boat. The keel and bottom of the boat were a soft blue. A ribbon of white, smeared with oil and blackened in places, marked where the water line had once been. The deck area was a mass of charred and melted fiberglass.
“Did you find anything unusual?” Ray asked.
    “Unusual,” said Mike, a stocky redhead in his early thirties, with gray-green eyes and a freckle covered face.
    “For us, the whole damn thing is unusual. We spend most of our time investigating businesses that have been torched, usually by their owners. Occasionally we get something a bit more interesting like an arson-murder. I can only remember doing a couple of powerboats, but never a sailboat. This is terrific.”
    “So what did you find?”
    “Well, as you can see, the top of the boat is pretty well destroyed. Let me show you the mast first.” Mike led him over to the mast that lay in another part of the parking lot.
    “The bottom’s pretty well charred up, but from the top you can see it’s been melted by the lightning, must a been one hell of a charge. Looks like someone used a gigantic arc welder on parts of it. Now look at this,” he said pointing to a stainless steel collar that had cables attached to it. “I don’t know anything about sailboats, suspect these parts all have names. Look how the cables are welded to these rings. Some of the charge must have followed these cables to ground. There are other interesting things. Look at this.” He pointed to a small engine near the rear of the boat.
    “That must be the auxiliary engine,” said Ray. “What’s so interesting about that?”
    “Look closely. It’s a diesel. Cute little thing, isn’t it?”
    “So what’s your point?”
    “No point,” said Mike. “Not yet, anyway. I’m just trying to figure out what happened, the order of events. The other boat fires I’ve worked on were caused by a buildup of gasoline fumes in the bilge. They’re usually ignited by an electrical spark, like from a faulty plug wire, when the engine is started. So my original theory was that the mast took the hit. In the process of the charge going to ground, the fumes in the bilge exploded and gas from the boat’s tank fueled the fire. But diesel fuel isn’t very