The Retro Look Read Online Free

check for them. Situation like this, cameras should have ruled me out.”
    “No such luck.”
    Novotny made a disgusted noise.
    “Typical casino. They spend millions spying on their own employees, but they cheap out everywhere else. So we have to do things the hard way.”
    “We can go downtown,” Diana said, “but I don’t think you want to do that.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because if we go up to his room, I’ll tell you who did it.”
    “You’re going to confess?”
    “That’s not what I said.”
    Novotny studied her. “Okay, we can go downtown anytime.”
    They took the elevator. Evidence technicians were probably at work in the stairwell. More technicians crawled through Harold Lax’s room and photographed, scraped, prodded, or tweezed everything they found. Novotny spoke to a Tyvek-suited woman, who shut her vacuum off.
    The notebook still lay on the bed. A young man took one last photograph and stepped away. Novotny put a pair of latex gloves on. Diana tried not to wince. She had touched the notebook, and she was going to have to admit it. She could see no way of getting out of this mess without giving up her fingerprints, which until now no police department had ever taken.
    Novotny paged through the book. Her expression didn’t change.
    “You’ve seen this?”
    “He paid me to do those poses. So yes, I saw it.” Diana wasn’t about to admit coming back a second time. “Look at that name.”
    “Rose-with-a.”
    “Rose-vee-ta, they say in German.”
    “You speak German?”
    “Not exactly. I’m a true crime fanatic.”
    Novotny closed the notebook. “Let’s go.”
    “I’m telling you, you want to hear this.”
    “Make it quick.”
    “ American Justice, Cold Case Files, City Confidential —I watch them all.”
    “Your point?”
    “Roswitha Loschky. She was German, and she was a prostitute, which is why it made a special impression on me. It always does when somebody in my line of work meets the wrong guy.”
    “When was this?”
    “Twenty-some years ago, in Fort Lauderdale.”
    “Get real. This has got nothing to do with anything.”
    “The woman in those drawings is European. You can tell. And she’s from the seventies. You can see that too.”
    “Our victim was, what, twelve years old?”
    “Exactly.”
    Diana told Novotny about her hour with Lax.
    “Sexually, he was a case of arrested development. Trust me. It’s not the first time I’ve seen it. In that department he was still a twelve-year-old boy.”
    “Or he was like you. He saw the case on TV and got obsessed.”
    “Maybe, or maybe he was there. You can call Fort Lauderdale and check.”
    “Let’s go.”
    Diana hadn’t really expected to avoid a trip to the police station.
    They drove through the real Atlantic City, the one behind the casinos. Diana didn’t want to look too closely. Novotny put her in an evil-smelling interview room. The detective didn’t bother telling her to wait. What else could Diana do?
    Over an hour later Novotny came back. She wore a thoughtful expression.
    “Our victim is Harold Lax Jr. Fort Lauderdale tells me that his father was a suspect. They just had no evidence.”
    “He’s your suspect, too.”
    “That’s a stretch.”
    “At least see if he’s in town.”
    That led to more waiting. An hour became two, and then three. Jeffrey was never going to speak to her again. Or worse, he would, and she would owe him for ruining the weekend.
    Novotny came back.
    “Get up.”
    “What?”
    “You’re under arrest for the murder of Harold Lax Jr.”
    “Are you out of your mind?”
    Novotny wasn’t kidding, or talking. She walked Diana through the booking, the mug shot, the fingerprinting, all of which were firsts for Diana. She decided she hadn’t missed anything.
    Finally they were back where they had started, in the interview room.
    “All right,” Diana said, “what’s this really about?”
    “We have a case. I told you, a witness places you in the room around the time of death.