Elevator Pitch by Linwood Barclay

Author:Linwood Barclay [Linwood Barclay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2019-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

Thirty-Two

My feet are dead,” Estelle Clement said to her husband, Eugene, as she sat on the edge of the bed in their hotel room. She had kicked off her shoes and was massaging her right foot with both hands. “What an idiot I was, wearing heels to the show tonight.”

“I told you,” Eugene said.

“I thought we’d be able to get a cab after. I never dreamed we’d have to walk all the way back. We should have gotten one of those Ubers.”

“I never take those,” he said. “There’s a record. Where you were, where you went, when you took the trip.”

“You don’t want the world to know we went to a show and came back to the hotel?” she asked.

“I just … don’t like being tracked,” he said.

“You’ve been on edge ever since that TV thing,” she said.

The mention of TV prompted Clement to pick up the remote. He pointed it at the television and turned it on. He flipped through channels until he found news.

“Did we come all the way from Denver so you could watch TV?” she asked.

He ignored her.

Estelle said, “Fine.” Having massaged her feet enough that she felt she could walk, she strolled over to the window. “There’s not much of a view. You should have booked us on a higher floor.”

“This was all they had,” Clement snapped. On the screen was a reporter, standing out front of a high-rise building. The chyron across the bottom read: Second Elevator Disaster in Two Days. He had the volume set too low to make out what she was saying.

His wife reached across the bed for her purse and dug out her cell phone. “I’m gonna text the kids.”

“Do that.”

“We’ve got two more days,” she said, with what sounded like a hint of resignation in her voice. “What about tomorrow?”

“Why don’t we talk about it at breakfast?” he said. “I’m trying to watch this.”

She hadn’t started texting yet. She was glaring at her husband.

“Eugene,” she said.

“Hmm?”

“Look at me.”

He sighed, turned and said, “What?”

She asked, “Who was that man?”

“What man?”

“The man sitting in the car, after the interview, when you were getting the cab. The one you talked to with your back to him.”

Clement’s face grew concerned. “I’m not sure I’m following you.”

“He put down his window and he said something to you. You had a conversation.”

“He was probably telling me to stop leaning on his car,” Clement said.

“Do you know him?” she asked.

“Of course not,” he said.

“Because I think I’ve seen him before.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I only had a quick look at him. But at home, I thought I saw you talking to him once. On the street. And I even thought I saw him in the lobby.”

“I’d never seen him before in my life.”

“So you did see him? Today you had your back to him when you talked to him.”

Clement was briefly flustered. “I didn’t see him. I didn’t see anybody. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Estelle was quiet for a moment before she asked, “Why did we do this trip?”

“What? It’s our anniversary, for Christ’s sake.

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