Ooh. He memorized a law book.
Ceepak flips through the documents tucked into little slots inside the file holder. He skims and scans them. Lets Bob sweat some.
“Good work, Bob,” Ceepak finally announces. “Everything seems to be in order.”
“Thank you. Now, if you fellows are on the same page …”
“How did you score on section five-fourteen-A dash four point eight?” says Ceepak.
“Come again?”
“The section pertaining to training and certification of ride operators.” Ceepak nudges his head toward the control booth where Ben Sinclair sits, thumbing a text message into his phone.
“I believe the State Inspector was fine with our setup. Should be a paper in there …”
“Is Benjamin your proposed ride operator?”
“Yes. And you guys can thank me later for finding a way to keep him off the streets this summer. I hear he had another run-in with the law this morning? Some kind of misunderstanding in the Olde Mill?”
“No, Bob,” says Ceepak. “There was no misunderstanding. Benjamin Sinclair attempted to snatch a purse. He then resisted arrest. He should be sitting in a jail cell right now, contemplating the consequences of his actions, not operating a potentially dangerous ride.”
“Whoa, ease up, detective. There’s nothing ‘dangerous’ about this ride.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Ryan would disagree.”
“What? Who are they?”
“The parents of the fourteen-year-old girl who died on this Free Fall ride when it was called the ‘Terminal Velocity’ up in Michigan.”
Ceepak lets that sink in as he pulls a laminated card out of another sport-coat pocket.
“Was Benjamin Sinclair trained by Sandusky Amusements, the manufacturer of this ride?”
“Huh?”
“Does he have a certification from the manufacturer, Sandusky Amusements, in a format prescribed by the New Jersey Department of Community Affairs?”
“They didn’t really ask for anything like that …”
Ceepak turns to face the control booth.
“Mr. Sinclair?” he calls out.