“I have a present for you,” Ned said. He handed the man a thousand dollars Hong Kong.
The man’s toothless jaw dropped.
Ned smiled again.
“I need you to help me for a moment,” he said.
“I want you to open my sister’s door. 604. It’s her birthday.”
Slipping the bills into his pocket, the hall porter led Ned down the corridor to 604 with a shuffling gait. He was about to knock, but Ned grabbed his arm before his fist hit the door.
“No,” Ned said.
“It’s a surprise.”
The porter nodded, then fished in his pocket for his keys.
Selecting the proper one, he slipped it into the lock.
As the porter pushed in the key, Ned glanced up and down the corridor. Then he reached behind his back and extracted the long barreled gun.
The door opened a crack. The porter started to step aside, but Ned put his hands on the man’s back and shoved him forward with as much force as he could muster. The porter’s body collided with the partially open door, pushing it open with a bang. The porter sprawled head first on the carpet inside the room.
Instantly, Ned leaped into the room. He dropped the flowers and held the Heckler and Koch in both hands, elbows locked. His quarry was sitting on the bed with light from the window back lighting his sandy blond hair.
From Ned’s position, looking down the sights of his automatic pistol, Tristan Williams looked confused as he sprang to his feet.
Ned shot him twice in the forehead, just above the eyes. The gun made only a spitting noise. Tristan went backward over the bed.
It was easy as pie.
Wheeling around, Ned looked for the Blumenthal woman. She wasn’t in the room. Then he noticed the open connecting door.
From within, he could hear the sound of water running.
Ned turned and silently closed the door to the hall. Then he pointed the gun at the hall porter, who was frozen with fear on the middle of the carpet. Ned motioned with the gun for the man to move toward the closet.
Ned opened the closet door, then roughly shoved the porter inside. He softly closed the door behind him, then locked it.
Moving back to the connecting door, Ned listened. The water was still running. Slowly, he leaned into the room. It was empty, and the bed was stripped of its linens. But the bathroom door was ajar about four inches. Now he could hear the running water more clearly. The Blumenthal woman was filling the tub.
Without a sound, Ned moved across the room to the bathroom door. Sucking in a deep breath, he raised a foot and kicked it open. In an instant, he was inside.
The Blumenthal woman was kneeling by the tub. Her back was to the door. He had surprised her completely. She was beginning to rise to her feet when Ned pumped two bullets into the back of her head. She pitched forward into the tub, overturning a bucketful of soapy water in the process.
Ned looked at the bucket with confusion. Stepping over the soapy water, he grasped the woman by the hair and yanked her head back.
“Damn!” he muttered. It wasn’t the Blumenthal woman at all.
It was a Chinese cleaning lady.
Ned let go of the woman’s hair. She slumped lifelessly back into the tub. He went back to the first room. Going around the bed, he bent down for a closer look at Williams’ body. It was tough to get a good look at him, since the body was jammed between the bed and the wall. With some difficulty Ned managed to straighten Williams out. Then he sifted through his pockets and pulled out the man’s wallet. Flipping it open, Ned swore aloud. It wasn’t Williams! It was a Robert Buchanan! Who the hell was Robert Buchanan?
Ned straightened up. What had happened? Had the bellboy given him the wrong room? he wondered. He gave the room a quick search. In a suitcase at the foot of the bed he found a packet of American Express travelers checks. The name on them was Marissa Blumenthal.