“And the other guests? Where are they?” asked Andreas.
“Gone. Things slow down around five, and we turn over rooms before the morning rush.”
“We need to talk to everyone who was here last night.”
“That won’t be possible.”
“We’ll get a warrant if we have to.”
“It won’t do you any good when we don’t have their names,” said Sterling, watching her boss’s shadow loom outside.
He reached for the cuffs at his hip. “Miss Lockwood. This is a murder case. I don’t have time for your games.”
Sterling winked. “Handcuffs before lunchtime?Nowwe’re talking. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
“This isn’t a joke, Miss Lockwood. Not only will we cuff you, we’ll march you to the station on foot. Right through the Golden Quarter.”
Sweat traced under her bangs. She swiped it away, pretending to adjust her hair. Arrest meant they’d take her fingerprints and realize she didn’t have any. Worse, if they paraded her past Zum Schwarzen Kameel in cuffs, her photo might turn up online. She eyed Mr. K’s silhouette. If she talked, she’d risk losing her job and her home.
Mr. K’s shadow pinched its chin. He was making similar calculations. Waiting for her to prove her loyalty.
“As much as I’d love a chance to chat with a handsome man like you, Detective, I’m unable to answer any of your questions.”
The detectives rose, ordering her to stand and turn around. She swallowed her panic and smoothed her dark green skirt as she stood, watching her boss through the gap between their shoulders. Mr. K’s shadow nodded.
“Fine, I’ll cooperate. Can I sit?”
The cops faced each other, negotiating some sort of silent agreement.
“Sit. Talk. Stop wasting our time,” said Andreas.
She slipped back into her chair and crossed her legs.
“Officers, anticipating needs is my expertise, so it pains me to say I don’t have what you want. Guests check in under an alias and pay cash, and most stay only a few hours. There’s no information for us to give you about them.”
“I doubt that. Listen, if you’re trying to keep this investigation quiet like your boss wants, you need to cooperate,” said Beate.
“What makes you think he wants it kept quiet?” said Sterling.
Beate cocked her head back. “His footsteps in the hallway.”
Mr. K’s pacing shadow froze, only half in view.
Andreas spoke up, loudly. “We could call in more officers, a few squad cars, get lights and sirens going—”
Beate joined in. “Oh, yeah, we could put on a real show.”
Andreas leaned towards her. “If you refuse to cooperate, we’ll arrest youandyour boss for obstruction.”
Mr. K wrung his hands. He turned towards an approximation of where Sterling sat, nodded, then walked away. Sterling closed the soundproofed inner door.
“Fine, Officers, I’m happy to cooperate,” she lied.
“Tell us about the guests. Starting with the victims. Who were they?” asked Beate.
“They checked in as Mr. and Mrs. Lime. I didn’t know him, but I knew her. A lot of people knew her.”
His tone was impatient as he asked, “Andhername was?”
