Page 74 of Brimstone Bound
‘How about an Anna?’
She frowned. ‘No Anna, either.’
Damn it. I’d been so sure. Then I thought of something else. Anna was on the run so she wouldn’t be using her own name. ‘She might have checked in under a false name.’
Kennard looked up from the screen. ‘Then I can’t help you.’
‘Dark hair? Early twenties? Pretty? She’ll be keeping her head down.’
‘I’m very sorry, Ms Bellamy…’
‘She’s in danger! If you want another fucking death on your hands, this is the ideal way to go about it! Show me the guest list and I might be able to spot her.’
‘All you have to do is obtain a warrant.’
‘I don’t have time for a warrant. I’m not qualified yet.’ Frustration was getting the better of me. ‘I don’t have judges waiting to take my call.’
Kennard rose to her feet. ‘There are 246 guests in this hotel tonight. If your wolf is here under a false ID, I don’t see how anything I do at this point will help you.’
I tried to think of some way round the bureaucracy. ‘There might be something in the name she’s using. Or you could show me CCTV footage of the lobby and I can identify her that way. I’m not sure when she checked in, but it would have been after Sunday morning.’
‘I can’t help you, Ms Bellamy. I’m sorry.’ Kennard offered me another of her professional smiles. ‘Why don’t I fetch us some coffee? A hot drink might calm you down. You’ve obviously been drinking and—’
‘I don’t want any coffee.’
Her gaze hardened. ‘Have a fucking coffee, Emma.’ I blinked at her language. Then she smiled politely again. ‘I’ll go and fetch it.’ She swept past me, patting the top of the computer as she passed. A moment later, I was alone.
For a few seconds I didn’t move, then I leapt round Kennard’s desk so that I could see her computer screen. All the guest names were there on an alphabetised spreadsheet. Thank you, Wilma Kennard.
I began at the top. I wasn’t sure what I was searching for – I could only hope that I’d know it when I saw it. I scanned down the list, checking each name. There had to be a clue somewhere. If only there’d been photos attached, I could have found Anna easily. Instead, I’d have to rely on my intuition. It couldn’t let me down now.
I ploughed past the Ds, Es and Fs. Nothing. There were very few surnames beginning with G, but lots starting with H. None with I. The words began to blur in front of my eyes; I was getting nowhere.
The further down the list I went, the more desperate I became. And it was because of this desperation that I almost missed it – or rather missedher. When I saw the name, however, it shone out at me like a beacon: Wilhelmina Murray.
She’d checked in on Sunday morning, walking in off the street just as Tony had done. She was staying on the same floor as him. It was her; I was sure of it.
The diminutive of Wilhemina is, of course, Mina. Anna Sullivan might be a werewolf, but she’d been reading the most famous vampire book of all time before she’d disappeared – and one of its main characters was Mina.
I stood up and made for the door. Kennard, whose hands were empty of any coffee cups, was standing in the corridor. ‘I’m going to make a visit upstairs,’ I announced. ‘I want to see DC Brown’s room again.’
‘His body has been removed,’ she told me. ‘And the room has been emptied.’
I shrugged. ‘All the same, I want to take another look. Do you have a keycard I can use?’
She hesitated before delving into her pocket and passing one over. ‘Here. Use it wisely. It’s a master keycard, which gives you access to every guest room. I’d hate to think you’d abuse that power. I expect to have it returned. However,’ she added, ‘if you do happen to run into any werewolves along the way, be sure to remind them that the full moon is approaching and we certainly don’t want any of their kind rampaging around the hallways.’
Bless her DeVane-embossed cotton socks. ‘I’ll be sure to mention it if I see anyone furry. Thank you.’ I marched off in the direction of the lifts, then I stopped and glanced back. ‘Have you ever readDracula?’
‘I studied it at university.’
I tapped my fingernails along the edge of the keycard. ‘I don’t suppose you remember what Mina Harker’s maiden name was?’
‘Murray,’ Kennard told me. ‘It was Murray.’
Triumph spasmed through me. I had her.
Chapter Twenty-Five
