Author: Sidney Sheldon
Category: Thriller
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“She did, the sheila. In cash.”
“But they left no forwarding address, no credit-card billing address, nothing?”
“Like I said, I don’t think so, but check with Stacey. She’s the eyes and ears of this place if you know what I mean.”
Stacey was a meek mouse of a woman in her sixties who corroborated everything her boss had already told the inspector. Mrs. Smith had paid in cash. No, she’d never mentioned anything about future plans, at least not at the front desk. Mr. Smith was “quiet” and “attractive.” Stacey declined to hazard a guess as to his age.
“I’d like to see their room.”
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The suite was palatial, even by the hotel’s grand standards. “Mrs. Smith” must have needed a wheelbarrow of cash to pay for a week’s stay here. Then again, Lisa Baring could afford it, what with her old man’s money burning a hole in her thieving, conniving pocket. He and his men scoured the rooms for fingerprints, hair, or other forensic evidence, but after two months and God knows how many subsequent occupants, not to mention twice-daily cleaning by the hotel staff, they weren’t hopeful.
Every chambermaid was interviewed, along with the concierge, bar and restaurant staff and someone named Liana at the spa where Mrs. Smith had availed herself of the hotel’s signature hot stone massage.
“She seemed a little emotional, to be honest,” Liana remembered, batting her heavy false eyelashes in Inspector Liu’s direction and almost asphyxiating him with a gust of CK One perfume. “She was tearful during her treatment, I remember that. But guests often are. So much gets released when you really hit those meridians, you know what I mean?”
“Did she say anything about what might have been upsetting her? Any information at all might help us.”
Liana thought about it. “She didn’t. But I’d say it was man trouble. I saw her with her hubby in the lobby a couple of times and he was always holding her hand or fussing over her, but she didn’t seem into it. She kept shrugging him off.”
By the end of the day, Inspector Liu was frustrated. He’d flown out to Sydney in person, because the Australia sighting was the first solid evidence he’d managed to get hold of, since Mrs. Baring’s second attempt at absconding, that she was (a) alive, and (b) a free agent, not locked up in some sex offender’s dungeon, as certain bleeding-heart factions seemed to believe. But the trip had been a bust. He’d discovered nothing that he couldn’t have learned from a ten-minute phone call from Hong Kong.
Leaving three men behind to finish collecting the physical evidence, he took his leave. “One of our chauffeurs can take you to the airport,” the fat manager offered magnanimously. “If you have to leave Sydney, you might as well do it in style.”
Sitting in the back of the plushly upholstered, air-conditioned limo, Liu brooded on the fact that Lisa Baring and her lover seemed always to manage to remain one step ahead of him. You could bet your bottom Hong Kong dollar that they had left Sydney in style. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. He rapped on the window that separated passenger from driver, which promptly rolled down.
“There’s a call button if you want it, mate. You see that console there on your left?”
But Inspector Liu wasn’t interested in call buttons and consoles.
“How many chauffeurs does the hotel employ?”
“There’s six of us.”
“And do you keep records of your journeys? Which guests go where?”
“There’s a logbook, yeah. It’s in the office.”
“Turn around.”
“But…your plane. I thought you said the last flight to Hong Kong—”
“Turn around!”
Stacey in the office was dismayed to see the grumpy Chinese policeman back so soon.
“Inspector. I thought you said you were—”
“I need the drivers’ logbook,” said Liu. He gave her the dates. “I need to know who chauffeured the Smith party to the airport.”
“Not all of our guests use the cars,” the woman warned him. “Most check out under their own steam.”
But Liu wasn’t listening. There it was. Smith, 10:20 A.M. Marco.
“I need to speak to Marco. Right now.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” Stacey said nervously. “Marco’s off on compassionate leave. His mother passed away a week ago.”
Inspector Liu could not have cared less about Marco’s mother. “Give me his address.”