The Dead Sea Deception

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When despatch called to tell Sheriff Webster Gayle about the plane crash, he was at the bowling alley, just about to sink a spoon into an enormous bowl of ice cream. One of the thoughts that went through his mind as he listened, along with the first gripes of pity for the dead and bereaved, and dismay at the shit-storm this would bring him, was that this seven-dollar sundae was now surely going to waste.

‘Emergency landing?’ he asked, making sure he understood. He cupped his hand around the phone to shut out the reverberating sounds of pins falling and being reset in the adjacent lane.

‘Nope.’ Connie was definitive. ‘No kind of landing at all. That bird just fell out of the sky, hit the ground and blew the hell up. Don’t know how big it was or where it was coming from. I’ve put calls out to ATC at Phoenix and Los Angeles. I’ll let you know when they get back to me.’

‘And it’s definitely inside the county limits?’ Gayle asked, clutching at a feeble straw. ‘I thought the flight path was more to the west, out by Arcona.’

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