The Vampire Files 11 by Song in the Dark

Author:Song in the Dark
Language: eng
Format: mobi, pdf
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

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Alan Caine’s rooms were at a good hotel, which meant Kroun and I had to get around the night man out front. It wasn’t hard. From a drugstore phone booth I called the desk, said that I was Caine, gave the room number, and instructed him to let up two of my friends as soon as they came in.

“And show them respect,” I imperiously added. “They’re important.” I was taking a chance the guy on the line knew Caine’s voice. On the other hand, if I was bossy enough, he might fall for it. Must have worked; I got a weary

“yes, Mr. Caine” in reply.

Kroun drove half a block and parked across the street. We walked into the lobby. “I’ll handle it,” he said, and veered away. He murmured to the clerk there, who eventually nodded and handed over a key.

“When the cops start investigating, he’ll remember your face,” I said.

“Yeah, but by then I’ll probably be back in New York, won’t I? Besides, I got one of those hard-to-remember mugs.”

He had to be kidding. The clerk noticed us, noticed Kroun, the moment we came in. There was no dampening of his magnetism at all. On the other hand I was wallpaper by comparison and content to stay that way.

He continued, “Most people only see the white streak in my hair, and I kept my hat on. Let’s go.”

The elevator was one of those fancy push-button ones that didn’t need an operator Everything these days was going automatic, from gearshifts in cars to toasters. Looked like another job was being shut down in the name of progress.

We stopped on the fourth floor, doors magically heaving open on their own. I noticed the fire exit was close to Caine’s room. That would be convenient for Strome when the time came.

Kroun unlocked, let the door swing open, and paused, listening. No radio going. In a place like this a loud radio would be investigated. So would gunshots. He went in, flipping on the light.

Yeah, Caine had done himself swell. His shades were up, the curtains wide. He had a wide slice of view of the street below. Nothing spectacular, but better than Jewel’s or Evie’s lot.

Evie didn’t jump out at us. Neither did anyone else. We went through each room more thoroughly than they deserved.

Maid service had been in that day. The bed was in order, fresh towels in the bath, wastebaskets emptied. His clothes were hung up or in a hamper. In the living room was a studio piano parked against the outside wall, a stack of sheet music, and a well-stocked bar. He’d taken generous samples from all the bottles and had a preference for scotch to judge by the many brands.

The hotel’s furnishings were in place but no pictures were on display except his own. Handsome portraits abounded. Caine had been a man thoroughly in love with himself.

“Ain’t that cute?” Kroun pointed to a large, beautifully executed nude photo of Caine that had a place of honor hanging above the sofa.

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