“I have some ideas.”
“Good. Wrap this up quickly. Andquietly.”
“Of course, sir. Have you spoken to our resources in the department? I spotted some familiar faces today, like the officer downstairs,” she said.
“Uniformed officers aren’t much help. I made a few calls; no one I know is working the case. I’m owed a favor by the police chief, but I’m saving it for a rainy day. I suggest you get close to the detectives. We need to learn Mr. Lime’s identity and what the autopsy shows. What do you think?” he asked, turning to Fernando.
“It looks like poison or a drug overdose, but Hedy had a headwound. She might have been attacked or fallen, it’s hard to say,” said Fernando.
“An overdose? From anything you recognize? Perhaps something you’ve tried?” said Mr. K, his tone accusatory.
Fernando tensed. “I admit I partake in a bit of Freud’s favorite powdered sugar once in a blue moon, doesn’t make me an expert.”
“Your humility is wasting my time,” said Mr. K.
Fernando’s illicit chemistry experiments were tolerated as long as they benefited the Hotel.
“Sorry, sir. I’m not as in the loop on club gossip these days. I can ask around. I’ll leave you out of it, of course. Plausible deniability becomes you.”
Mr. K nodded, unspiraled the key to Room 13 from his set, and handed it to Fernando. Sterling already had one. “We need to solve this before the police. You two need to be a step ahead. Use this room as a meeting place. Keep anything you find here. And keep me out of it until you’ve got an answer.”
Sterling nodded.
“I’ll leave you two alone while I chat with our friendly officer downstairs,” he said, standing.
They also rose to their feet. Mr. K clapped Fernando’s shoulder and told him to stay tough. He hesitated in front of Sterling, stretching his arms and flexing his fingers as if he might embrace her. Instead, he shook her hand firmly, then disappeared without the formality of a goodbye.
She stilled, panting.
“You feeling it too?” asked Fernando.
“The draft? Or the strange mixture of horny and afraid I always feel around him?”
“The latter, but it is freezing in here.” Fernando rubbed his chest, his eyes meeting hers, then darting away.
“I don’t know what you were doing on your little rehearsal break, but whatever it was, I hope you got it on camera. We need alibis. I have some leads on the guests but no idea where to start with the phone calls or blackout,” she said.
“Leave that to me. I’ll check with the consulate. The security guy’s been making eyes at me for weeks.”
“Perfect,” she said, walking to warm her hands by the fire. She spaced out, entranced by the flames.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
“What’s there to say? I don’t trust police to care about Hedy. To them, she’s ‘just another dead prostitute,’?” she said, drawing air quotes around the last bit.
“Butyoucare.”
“I want this done so I can go back to forgetting she existed.”
Sterling pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth to stop herself from crying, the ache of held-back tears clawing at her throat. Fernando didn’t push her.
“So. What’s next?” he asked.
“Tonight I’ll pay the kinky bartender a visit. But first, I have to deal with Madame.”
— 14 —Vierzehn
Blanc de Noir Vinothek kept peculiar hours and catered to peculiar clients, mostly male. It opened hours after the streetlamps on the winding alley were lit, when the security grates on surrounding shops had long since been shuttered.
