Reptile Smile
March, 1998
Lyle Brockington was the kind of guy who wore a smoking jacket and laughed with clenched teeth. There weren’t many of those types of guys left, the Hugh Hefners of the world, but here was one sitting in front of Detective Bill Martin. Relaxed and cocky, the guy wore the jacket and slippers at work. Sure, he was the head of a major New Jersey banking company, but Martin still felt that was the height of affectation.
Martin and his partner Jackson Donne sat across from Brockington’s huge desk, studying the man over the backs of framed pictures. The office, in the only tall building in New Brunswick, Easton Bank, looked over the Raritan River. Early March, and Martin could still see a few chunks of ice floating south.