Page 33 of Brimstone Bound
We tracked through the narrow staff corridor to a small office not far from the door marked ‘Lobby’. Kennard motioned me to a chair, sat behind the desk and started to tap at her computer keyboard.
A frown creased her forehead as she scanned the screen. ‘We have an Anthony Brown who checked in last night,’ she told me. ‘He walked in off the street and paid up front for two nights.’
I sucked in a breath. So Tonywashere. A wave of relief – followed immediately by a flash of anger – rippled through me. He was holed up in a swanky room ordering room service and enjoying himself.
Kennard tapped a few more keys, the furrow in her brow deepening. ‘He has aDo Not Disturbsign on his door, so his room wasn’t cleaned this morning.’
My stomach muscles tensed again. ‘No one has seen him since last night?’ I leaned forward. ‘Has he ordered any food? Been to the bar? Used the phone?’
Kennard raised her eyes to mine. ‘No, none of that.’
I swallowed. Tony didn’t strike me as the kind of bloke who would empty an expensive minibar; neither was he a man who would skip meals.
‘I have one thing here,’ she said. ‘I doubt it’s helpful. He phoned in a complaint not long after he checked in. He called housekeeping and said that his fridge wasn’t working properly. We offered to check it over and fix it in the morning. He said that he’d manage without it, and that he’d rather not be disturbed.’ She shrugged. ‘That’s all I’ve got.’
‘When did he make that call?’
She frowned at the computer. ‘Just before 1am.’
Tony was as much of a night owl as the vamps. I sucked on my bottom lip and tried to think of where to go next. ‘Do you have any camera footage from when he checked in?’ I asked finally. ‘Or from outside his room?’
‘I can’t show you any of that if you haven’t got a warrant. I’m not being obstructive, it’s merely procedure.’
I cursed inwardly and thought some more. A hotel like this would have a state-of-the-art keycard system that must have electronic records. ‘How about his door?’ I could feel a prickle of urgency between my shoulder blades. ‘Can you tell me when it was opened?’
Kennard shook her head. ‘Again, Miss Bellamy, without a warrant that’s not possible.’ She paused. ‘But if you’re genuinely concerned for his well-being—’
‘I am.’
‘Then I can take you up to his room and we can check on him.’
I immediately stood up. ‘Let’s go.’
If I’d had my way, I’d have sprinted to Tony’s room. At least the assistant manager had a brisk gait; no doubt she was keen to confirm Tony’s presence and get rid of me as quickly as possible.
We took the service lift then marched along the fourth-floor corridor to Tony’s room. There was indeed aDo Not Disturbsign hanging from the doorknob.
I glanced at Wilma and knocked. ‘Tony!’ I called. ‘It’s Emma. Are you in there?’
There was no answer. Kennard took over and rapped on the door. ‘DC Brown? This is Wilma Kennard. I apologise for disturbing you, but we need to confirm that you’re alright.’
Again, no answer. Kennard waited for a few seconds then reached into her suit pocket, took out a keycard and unlocked the door. She nudged it open slightly and called again, ‘Hello? DC Brown?’
I’d had enough. I pushed past her and walked inside, noting the sour smell in the air. The television in the corner was turned on but the sound was muted. The bed was rumpled, although it looked like it hadn’t been slept in. An open magazine lay on one of the small bedside tables next to several opened miniatures of vodka. I glanced at it and pursed my lips. Unpleasant-looking porn.
I scratched my head while Kennard checked the bathroom. My eyes drifted towards the wardrobe. The door was open, blocking my view. I sidled over and checked inside. A split second later, I desperately wished I hadn’t.
‘Anything?’ Kennard enquired.
I stared at Tony’s naked body hanging inside the wardrobe, a blue tie looped around his neck.
My crossbow fell to the floor.
Chapter Thirteen
‘It happens more often than you’d think,’ Kennard said kindly, pushing a cup of hot, sweetened tea into my hands. ‘It doesn’t get spoken about because I don’t think the authorities want to give people ideas, but we usually get a case of auto-erotic asphyxiation every couple of years. And we’re not alone. Lots of hotels have to deal with this.’
‘Uh-huh.’ I couldn’t get the image of Tony’s corpse out of my head. His glassy, bulging eyes were burned into my own retinas. I wasn’t sure I’d ever forget what I’d seen.
