He turned back to Phule.
“Will there be anything else, sir?”
“As a matter of fact, there is … if you’ll just wait a moment. Armstrong! Rembrandt!”
The lieutenants elbowed their way through the crowd of Legionnaires to his side.
“Pair them off and oversee the room assignments. I want you and the cadre in the rooms nearest the penthouse … I’ll be using that as a headquarters and operations while we’re here. Make a list for our use as to who’s where, but tell everyone not to unpack completely. We’ll be changing the room assignments as partners are assigned.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Beeker!”
“Sir?”
The butler had already been standing by, being more familiar with Phule’s operational habits.
“Deal with the valet before he faints. He is to show our people to their rooms, but he is not-I repeat, not-to help them with their gear other than to make any baggage carts available for their use. And Beek … be sure he’s tipped adequately. Got it?”
“Very good, sir.”
“Now then, Bombest, we’re going to need another hundred registration cards to fill out once our room assignments are finalized. “
“Ah … perhaps it would be easiest if we simply held off filling the original cards until you’ve had a chance to sort things out, Mr. Phule. “
“I appreciate the thought, Bombest, but that might take a week. No sense botching up your system just because we’re still getting organized, is there?”
“No … I mean, yes … I mean, thank you, sir.”
“While I’ve got you here, though, there is one more thing. The park across the street … that belongs to the hotel, doesn’t it?”