The Final Contagion by Timeri Murari

Author:Timeri Murari [Murari, Timeri]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lume Books
Published: 2020-04-11T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

The Amerigo Hotel was in darkness. Piers lifted the camera and slowly scanned the building and the driveway. Nothing was moving. The camera shook, and the scene blurred. He forced himself to steady his hands. He was shaking from head to foot and sweating from the exertion and the punch of fear he’d experienced at Lopez’s death.

He would have to risk it. He took a deep breath and sprinted for the rear door. He hit it with his shoulder. It didn’t give; it was locked. He tried again; he was positive he’d wedged it open. He looked back and ran along the wall to the front entrance. The large, elegant foyer was only dimly lit and looked deserted. The light didn’t even reach the front door. He slipped in and edged along the wall to the stairs. There was a clerk on duty, but he seemed asleep. It was pitch black in the stairwell, and Piers studied every corner through the night lens as he slowly climbed. He had no doubt that whoever had shot Lopez would be gunning for him as well. He’d been missed once. It wasn’t the army; he knew that. They would have been open and been waiting for him in the hotel.

There was one light on in the corridor. It was near the stairs. He quickly knocked it out and scanned the corridor through the camera. Nothing except… He stopped. There was a wafer thin edge of light showing under a door. Piers moved cautiously to it. He could hear movement and the murmur of voices. He knocked and stepped back.

Harris half-opened the door. He looked slightly dishevelled and there was a sheen of sweat across his forehead.

‘What do you want, Shatner?’ he asked irritatedly. ‘I’m sending a report to London.’ He studied Piers more carefully. ‘You look as if you’ve been out again and run the mile on top of that. You going to tell me what you’re up to? Or else – ’

‘Have you been out just now?’ Piers asked. He had no time for Harris’ games. He pushed past him and examined the room.

Harris’s camera was standing facing the curtained window. A table and a chair had been set up in front of it. The camera was off. Harris patted his face with his handkerchief.

‘I’ve been in.’

‘You’re sweating.’

‘Is there a law against that?’

Piers checked the bathroom to be sure. It was empty. He couldn’t prove Harris was out on the street too, possibly the one who Lopez thought followed them the previous night.

‘You going to tell me?’ Harris asked insistently. He suddenly smiled ingratiatingly, and picking up a bottle of cognac, poured Piers a drink. ‘You look as though you need one. I always have a couple of shots before taping; steadies the nerves, you know.’ He stopped. ‘I know you’ve got a story. Just give me a sniff of it, that’s all I’m asking for.’

Piers swallowed the drink. He knew Harris wouldn’t tell Geddes anything; all he wanted was something to keep his editors in London happy.

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