AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Jerry signed in under his real name. No point in hiding his identity. As far as anyone was concerned, he worked for Millstone Enterprises and was there on business. But when he was scouting for information, he would use one of his aliases, John Tatum or Jacob Taylor. He even had business cards in each of those names, which included a cell number to a burner phone just in case someone had to get in touch with him, perhaps because they remembered something, saw something, or heard something.
He eyed the type of name tags the employees were wearing. He could have one made with his name and one for Colette Petrov. His scheme was to impersonate an employee of the hotel and claim he found her badge in one of the elevators. It was an idea in progress. It would depend on what working attire or uniforms were at his disposal. In most hotels, there is a closet of uniforms for staff to change into should one get dirty or ripped during working hours. For the most part, employees were responsible for the care and cleaning of their uniforms, but sometimes a backup was necessary. He figured it would take him a little over a day to get acquainted with the hotel and its inner workings. That would be relatively simple. If the assumption that this was the same Colette he was seeking was true, finding her at the hotel should not prove all that difficult.
He phoned Arthur. “Landed. Will be scoping out the place tomorrow. I have a guy working on some fake employee badges.”
“What do you mean?” Arthur wondered what that had to do with anything.
“I sneaked a photo of the bellman’s employee badge when I was checking in. My guy in Queens said he can have them to me by tomorrow afternoon. If all goes well, I should have something for you tomorrow. Provided she is the one you are looking for.”
Arthur listened intently. “Look, I don’t care how you get the job done. But it sounds like you have things under control.”
“Don’t I always, boss?” Jerry was testing out the comfort level of the bed.
“Right. Let me know as soon as you hear or find anything.” Arthur hung up in his usual manner—blunt.
Jerry grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. Then he ordered a club sandwich from room service. He was bushed and wanted to get a fresh start in the morning.
* * *
As promised, the fake name tags were delivered by noon via FedEx. One saidCOLETTE PETROVand the otherJOHN TATUM. He pulled out a black hairpiece that would fit perfectly over his well-waxed skull and a pair of lightly tinted aviator sunglasses. With two-inch lifts for his shoes, he doubted that anyone would recognize him from the day before. He stuffed his disguise and a duffel bag in an attaché case and left his room, making sure the cameras would spot him as himself. He walked to the end of the hallway and went into the stairwell, where he donned his hairpiece and glasses and inserted the lifts in his shoes. Then he turned his jacket inside out and put the attaché case in the duffel bag. He had already scoped out the security cameras. One per floor. Easy enough to avoid a straight-on look at him. He also planned to fake a slight limp.
After his transformation, he exited two floors down and proceeded to the lower level, where the supplies, the kitchen, and housekeeping were situated. There was so much hustle and bustle that no one took notice of him. He walked up to what appeared to be the youngest, most junior person around. “Hey, fella, can you tell me where I can pick up my uniform? First day on the job.”
The young, pimple-faced kid said, “Sure.” He pointed. “Down this side, through those doors, and on your left.”
“Thanks.”
“Sure. No problem.” The kid kept stacking dishes.
Thompson made sure no one got a good look at his face even though it was well hidden under the glasses. He found the room markedUNIFORMSand knocked. No answer. Good news. He tried the knob, and it opened. More good news. He scanned the space, looking for an associate’s blazer and found one in a size large.
He snickered.I guess they don’t have custom-made uniforms.He took a sniff. He hoped he wouldn’t break out in a rash.
Thompson quickly changed, checked that his head rug was in place and his shoes tied well enough that they wouldn’t slip off his feet. Depending on what type of socks he wore, they could slip when he was wearing the lifts. He stuffed his golf jacket along with the attaché case back into the duffel bag and stowed it behind the uniforms hanging on the rack. He clipped the ID tag on his breast pocket above the hotel logo and glanced in the mirror. He was confident he would blend in.
He strode through the bustling service area, back to the elevator, and took it to the lobby level. The hotel was booked solid with a convention of dog groomers. There were hundreds of people milling about. Fortunately, Millstone Enterprises had a special deal with the hotel and was able to get him a room. Heck, Millstone Enterprises had a deal with almost everyone.
Thompson strode over to a bank of house phones and lifted one from its cradle.
“Operator. How may I direct your call?”
“Good morning. I would like to speak with Colette Petrov. Do you know if she is available?”
“Good morning, sir. Let me check the schedule.” She put him on hold for a moment. “I’m sorry, sir, but she is doing her rounds right now. May I take a message for her?”
“Yes, please tell her I found her name tag in my room, and I am going to leave it at the front desk for her.”
“Thank you, Mr. . . . ?” the operator asked.
“Goodrich.” It was the first thing he could think of.
“Yes, Mr. Goodrich. I will let her know.”
Thompson walked over to the front desk and left the name tag on the counter. He went back to the house phone and waited. And waited. It was almost an hour before Colette appeared at the front desk. He pulled out his phone and snapped a photo. Millstone would be pleased to see it. From a distance, he watched the exchange between the desk clerk and Colette. Colette was shaking her head in confusion, tapping her real name tag with her fingers. Both women shrugged, and Colette took the extra, fake one and put it in her pocket. She had a very puzzled look on her face as she walked away.
Thompson meandered through the lobby and took the wide staircase to the ballroom level, enjoying his anonymity. In an hour, he would go back to the service area, return the jacket, and retrieve his belongings. The service area was in a state of pandemonium. Perfect for him. No one paid any attention as to who was coming or going. There were two other people in the uniform-storage area, but they were too busy having a very gossipy conversation to notice him. He hung up the jacket and put his golf jacket on inside out. Hairpiece and glasses were still on his head. He nodded to a few people he had to slide past on his way out, keeping his head down as much as possible. He took the elevator to the top floor, skirted the camera, and entered the stairwell. He took the wig off his head, removed the lifts and glasses, folded the duffel bag, and placed everything in the attaché case. He took the stairs down to his floor, this time making sure the camera saw the real Jerry Thompson enter his room.
He phoned Millstone right away. “It’s her, boss.”
