Which meant Hedy died between two and two thirty.
The Ear continued. “After the thud came a long silence. Until I heard someone at the door of the room below me. It was odd, they knocked a little tune, then entered with a key,” he said, rapping the table to the rhythm of “Shave and a Haircut.”
The detectives eyed Sterling.
“It wasn’t me. Staff does a triple double-knock.” She mimed it against the table, pausing after each pair of taps.
Andreas nodded skeptically, returning to the suspect. “Did you hear the people downstairs talking?”
“No, I got up because the woman in Room 11 raised her voice. I hoped she was getting excited, but instead she got angry. Said she couldn’t take it anymore, then stomped out around two forty-five. I checked the clock.”
Sterling pinched her chin. “He’s… right, Room 11’s escort wasn’t with him when he checked out,” she said, realizing she’d missed that. Evidently, the World’s Best Concierge had let a guest slip out unnoticed. She wondered what else she’d missed.
“After his companion left, the man in Room 11 engaged in onanism.”
“Hä?”said Andreas, confused.
“Masturbation,” said Sterling.
He didn’t react. “So. Why’d you leave your room? We heard you took a little walk.”
“I got lost on the way to the toilet, chose the wrong door, and accidentally frightened that couple and their sweet little dog.”
A weak excuse. He’d been here enough times to know the layout. Priests like him gave decent perverts a bad name.
The detectives questioned him about any connection to Hedy or a man named David Goldfinch.
“That’s Mr. Lime’s name?” interrupted Sterling. The detectives gave curt nods, focusing on the Ear. This was first she’d heard of it, and Sterling realized that if she wanted information, she’d have to pry it out of them.
The Ear had no connection to either victim, and soon after the police concluded the interrogation.
Sterling led the Ear and the detectives downstairs and bade them farewell. After which she called Fernando and told him to come to the Hotel, meet her in the library, and bring his crafting supplies.
— 21 —Einundzwanzig
She perched on the desk in Room 13, staring tensely at the door, awaiting Fernando’s triple double-knock. When it it arrived, she exhaled at the blissful sound, which confirmed whoever the Ear had heard enter Room 5 hadn’t been him. Soft light filled the keyhole as the book covering it was pulled back. A moment later, Fernando entered.
She wrapped him in a deadly hug, so tight he almost dropped his crafting kit.
“Good to… see… you,” he said, straining. She released him.
“Why the enthusiasm?” he asked, smoothing the lapels of his eggplant-purple sport coat.
“I’m happy to see you, that’s all. Plus, every moment of freedom feels precious right now. If I want to save my own skin, we need to stay ahead of the cops and Madame Weiss. We’re taking matters into our own hands. Luckily, I have information. First thing: Mr. Lime’s name was David Goldfinch. Can you ask Jeeves about him?”
“That website’s defunct. But I cangooglehim, if that’s what you mean.”
“Well, it was all the rage last time I used a computer. Second thing: Hedy died between two and two thirty, pretty soon after entering her suite at one forty-five. Her flask was open by the sink. My guess is something was in it. So, my little pharmacologist, what poison kills that fast?”
He chewed his cheek, thinking. “There are a few. My money, if I had any, would be on cyanide. Depending on the dosage, it can be quick or slow, and it explains why her blood was candy-apple red and smelled like almonds.”
“Right,” she muttered, grimacing as she recalled it.
“Of course, it’s not instant like in movies. If the detectives shared the toxicology reports, we’d know for certain.”
“They barely gave me David Goldfinch’s name, what makes you think they’ll give us lab reports? Besides, since she was poisoned, perhaps it’s better you play none the wiser.”
“Indubitably. I am but a humble bellhop.”
