“Well, considering what goes on over there, I was concerned after not hearing from you. In fact, I wassoworried I sent two of my associates to look in on you.”
“Yeah, your buddies in the black car. We waved hello. Verythoughtfulof you,” said Sterling.
“Of course.”
“Anything else I can assist you with?”
“No, dear, but don’t forget our upcoming meeting on Valentine’s Day. We have so much to discuss,” said Madame.
“How could I forget?”
“Lovely. In the meantime, don’t be a stranger, dear. The girls and I are here for you.Anytime, anywhere,” said Madame. “Ciao.”
Madame hung up. Sterling froze, lost in the hypnotic hum of the dial tone.
Fernando hung up for her. “Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Well, you’re safe here,” he said, hugging her.
“Am I? Madame’s watching. Beate’s breathing down my neck about finding Frau Thursday. Police are under pressure to make an arrest. The Hotel’s been closedelevendays. If Mr. K loses Valentine’s Day business, someone’s getting fired. We need an answer.”
Thoughts whirred through her head, scattered about the rooms of her mind hotel. Every interrogation left more questions. Everyone had a motive, even Hedy. Mrs. Boring was charity-board rivals with David’s mother. Mr. Boring, who used Madame’s escort service, was hiding out abroad, not exactly a sign of innocence. The Professor had an old grudge against David. All would have hated David’s plans to build a surveillance state. His date that evening, Luisa, worked for Nightingale and had disconnected her phone after leaving their calling card.
The thought of Luisa reminded her of something. “Check this out,” she said, holding out her wrist. “Smell.”
He hesitantly sniffed. “New perfume?” he asked.
“Not mine, Beate’s.”
“It’s rather masculine for her,” he said.
“I recognize it from somewhere, but I wanted a second opinion.”
He inhaled, concentrating. “The Professor’s hired girl, Luisa?”
“Bingo. The one who left us those sugar cubes. I think she and Beate have been meeting the same person, and this cologne belongs to him. To Nightingale.”
— 33 —Dreiunddreißig
Back in Sterling’s room, she and Fernando settled on the couch. Madame’s call had rattled her, and made talking all the more difficult. She loosened the knot in her tongue with a swig of schnapps.
“This stays between us and the Hotel walls,” she said.
He drew a cone of silence in the air.
She began. “Serafina loved working for Madame. I mean, you saw how we lived.”
Sterling pictured their glamorous waterside apartment and the spring day, nearly a decade ago, when she lost Serafina. She was nineteen. An age when the law considered her an adult, her chosen family saw her as a child, and she believed herself immortal. Therefore, she’d taken up smoking.
Serafina had left town for a few days to entertain a client, so Sterling and Fernando had the run of the place. They hovered by the living-room window, cigarettes in hand, gazing down at the lovers sitting beside the canal. Their smoky exhales fluffs of poplar cotton floating in the air. Then the bell rang. It was a pair of police officers.
Fernando gripped her hand as they sat across from the officers.As they said they’d found a body and handed Sterling her aunt’s resident permit. They believed Serafina had been drunk, wandering by the canal, and fallen in. Her body was spotted by a tourist boat and identified by the ID in her purse. Sterling never saw the bloated remains. Madame spared her the agony of viewing the body. She only saw the face on the plastic card.
Fernando was by her side then and stayed during the hideous days that followed. He scrubbed away the mess after the first time she finished a bottle on her own, before her stomach had toughened against drink. He stayed through the cremation, the funeral, all arranged by Madame. But life moved on, even in the face of death, and the grieving had to pick up their feet to keep pace. At some point, he had to let her go.
Later that summer, after the bereavement flowers dried and the first weeds sprouted on Serafina’s grave, he’d gone away for six months to chase some fleeting dream. Leaving Sterling behind. When he returned, the apartment was gone, and she was living here, at the Hotel Orient.
