Deadly Intentions [antikvár]

Gene Zarr was ready for a break, ready to get off his feet a while. He glanced at his watch: he had been standing for two hours, and it would be another thirty-five minutes before he could leave the American Airlines counter in the Tucson airport. There were at least a dozen people in the line in front of his counter, and more were coming. The next American Airlines departure was scheduled for 11:55 a.m. After its passengers were checked in and the plane had left for Dallas, Zarr would get his break. As the next passenger stepped forward, Zarr noticed his massive arms and chest, even though they were covered by a baggy, long-sleeve sweater. A weight lifter, thought Zarr. Then he saw the man's pants. They also were baggy, several sizes too large, but the man wore no belt; the pants seemed to be held up by safety pins. In his years with the airline, Zarr had seen his share of odd ducks, but this one was a lulu. "I want to change my flight," the man said, handing Zarr a ticket. "I want to leave on the next available flight to Dallas." The ticket he handed over identified him as Mr. A. Donald Vester, scheduled to leave Tucson for Dallas the following night. Zarr began preparing a new ticket. As he punched information into the console, the computer recorded the time on the ticket—11:24 a.m., 6 December 1977. "Mr. Vester," Zarr said, "changing from a night flight to a day flight is going to increase the cost of your ticket." As he spoke, Zarr noticed that the man was wearing a wig. It didn't quite fit, and the style was also peculiar: black stringy hair that almost reached his shoulders. Zarr did not allow himself more than a glance. How a passenger dressed wasn't any of his business. But there was II