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I found the stairwell and climbed to the eighth floor. I sat in my room for an hour and a half. At midnight, I left my book behind, slid my key card into my jeans pocket, and ventured into the hall again. I took the stairs from eight up to fourteen, where I opened the stairwell door and peered into the corridor. That portion of the hallway was empty, but I heard two women chatting from a point around the corner and I withdrew.
I climbed from the fourteenth floor to the eighteenth, where I found the corridor empty. All seemed to be quiet. I walked as far as the corner and ventured a peek. Teddy’s room was somewhere along the right-hand side past the transverse corridor where the elevators were located. Beyond that point was the utility hall where I’d seen the freight elevators. To reach her room, I was going to have to brave the journey with no detours, no cover, and no way to disguise my purpose.
I made my mind a blank and began to walk. The wall-to-wall carpeting muffled my footsteps. When I reached Teddy’s room, I paused. On the knob, along with the Privacy Please sign, was a breakfast order card. I tilted my head against the door, listening. No sound. Then again, the hotel was sturdily constructed and the walls well-insulated. I looked at the bottom of the door, but there was no way to determine if the lights were on in her room. I lifted the breakfast menu from the knob and read her order. She’d circled French press coffee, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and the fresh fruit plate. Included was her last name, her room number, and the time she wanted breakfast delivered, which was between 8:00 and 8:15. I looped the order form back onto the doorknob.
I went to the fourteenth floor, where I stuck my head into the corridor and listened again. When I determined I was alone, I proceeded to 1418, where I was happy to see Kim Bass had placed her breakfast order on her doorknob, ready to be picked up. Like Teddy, she’d requested room service between 8:00 and 8:15. Diet Pepsi and pancakes.
I still had no idea if she and Christian were sharing a room. If so, she didn’t intend to feed him. The Pepsi and pancakes could have been his, but he seemed more like a bacon-and-eggs kind of guy. I took a step back and let my gaze travel the entire corridor, eyeballing the doorknobs. I walked as far as the corner and peered at the rooms on the short arm of the hall. No other breakfast orders.
As I reversed my steps and headed for the stairwell, a desk clerk emerged from the elevator with a sheaf of papers in hand. He turned into the corridor and proceeded down the hall just ahead of me. At certain designated rooms, he stooped and slid a paper under the door; 1418 was one. Had to be the final bill, which suggested Kim would be checking out. I followed him around the corner and watched him slip a copy under two other doors as well. He turned and walked back along the corridor, this time facing me. I smiled politely and murmured “Good evening” as I continued to the stairwell.
As I passed room 1402, I spotted a plastic shoe bag that had been hung on the knob in anticipation of the complimentary shoe shine. The name handwritten across the bottom in marker was Satterfield. I opened the bag and verified the presence of the battered pair of deck shoes he’d been wearing earlier. I was tempted to steal them just for the mischief of it, but decided to behave myself.
I trotted down the stairs to the eighth floor. Safely ensconced in my room, I called the front desk and said I’d be checking out in the morning and I’d appreciate having my bill sent up. Within twenty minutes, it came shooting under the door to me.
•   •   •
In anticipation of the trio’s departure, I got up at 7:00, threw my few belongings into my overnight bag, and called downstairs asking to have the Honda brought around. Bag in hand, I took the stairs down and paid my bill. Then I waited just outside in the glass-covered motor plaza until the parking valet pulled up in my car. I tucked my overnight bag in the trunk and handed him a ten-dollar bill to keep it parked close by until I needed it.
As is true of most surveillance work, I spent more time avoiding discovery than I did acquiring information. In point of fact, none of my skulking about was productive until close to 10:00 A.M. I was, by then, sitting in the darkened hotel bar. A discreet signpost near the entranceway indicated that the hours were noon to midnight. I had slipped in, attracting no notice whatever, and settled in a booth with the lobby elevators in full view.
Teddy Xanakis appeared first, decked out in a two-piece red wool suit and a pair of red heels. She was trailed by a small rolling bag that accompanied her like an obedient dog while she approached the front desk and took care of her bill. When Kim and Christian joined her, I could see that Kim wore her black skirt for the second day in a row, this time with a matching black sleeveless top and a wide frothy silver scarf. She was clearly one of those women who knows how to travel with two or three separates she could mix and match, creating countless outfits. Even from a distance, I could see that each coordinating piece could be folded to hankie size and shoved in an overnight case without wrinkling. Christian’s ensemble, on the other hand, must be smelling ripe by now.