Jill Churchill: Bell, Book, and Scandal

"Mrs. Nowack," the manager said. "That was

fast."

"We're in my friend's new car. This is Mrs. Jeffry, my roommate when we come to the mystery conference."

The manager knew which side his bread was buttered on and studied Jane for a moment, clearly noting her and memorizing her name.

"I'll escort you ladies upstairs."

"No need," Shelley said. "I've been here often enough to find it myself. Just loan me a key."

She led Jane to the most magnificent elevator she'd ever seen. Almost the size of a large room, it was mirrored with dark green glass with a

touch of gold, with light green marble in narrow stripes between the mirrors. It had a lush carpet, and there was even a little plush bench you could sit on.

"I could park my car in this elevator," Jane said.

"Not today, please," Shelley said, pushing the button for the top floor. The elevator ascended in absolute silence.

They stepped out into a very wide hallway. This floor was inlaid with marble as well, this time an off-white with brown speckles. The same quality of runners ran down the middle as the ones in the lobby. It was well lit with lovely lily-like sconces in pinky-mauve glass that were set next to each door.

They headed left to the far end and Shelley inserted the plastic credit-card-like key. "Voilà!" she said, pushing Jane ahead of her.

Jane gasped. She thought the room was the most beautiful place she'd ever seen. Colorful without being gaudy. They'd come first into an enormous parlor with a big dining room table at one end with eight Windsor shield-back chairs. There was a matching server bureau with a fabulous floral arrangement of real flowers. The air in the room was lightly scented by the roses.

The other end of the parlor was furnished with comfy-looking chair-and-sofa combinations. Three groups, with big coffee tables so a lot of people could sit down and visit and eat ordrink without having to balance their plates on

their laps.

"Explore," Shelley said. The room was on a corner and light filtered through the windows clear around two sides through sheers. There were what looked like well-lined silk floor-to-ceiling curtains that could be drawn for privacy, even though no building near it was taller.

Off to the right was a small, exquisite kitchen separated by a serving bar. The stainless steel cabinet doors had a swirly pattern that echoed the lily look of the lighting fixtures in the hall. Jane opened one door and found a vast array of fine glassware. There was a little refrigerator under the counter and next to it a separate ice machine humming along quietly.

"Come on, Jane. See the rest of it," Shelley said, leading the way to the right to a master bedroom. It was as luxurious as the parlor. There was a king-sized bed and a mob of throw pillows; a desk near the window that looked like a genuine antique, but probably wasn't; gorgeous table and floor lamps with the swirly steel pattern and light pink shades.

"Wait till you see the bathrooms," Shelley said smugly. "Paul and I chose our own fittings at the Merchandise Mart."

Jane cringed slightly at the memory of Shelley having dragged her through the Merchandise Mart. Jane had been wearing unsuitable shoes, and carrying a big purse that kept banging into

things and becoming progressively heavier for no good reason.

The bathroom was, in fact, magnificent. Huge. Light green marble floors, lots of elegant bath rugs that didn't slip around. "The floor is heated," Shelly said smugly.

Jane leaned down to feel it and it was warm. There were also a pair of the fluffiest bathrobes Jane had ever seen. There were both a bath and a shower.

"That's the one we saw at the Merchandise Mart, remember?" Shelley said. "The shower that's computerized to be instantly the temperature you want. Six showerheads, programmed to hit as hard or softly as you want."

"What are the two little rooms that open off at the far end?" Jane asked.

"The toilet in one and a bidet in the other."

· There were plush towels hung on pewter racks and extras folded on glass shelves set high enough not to bang your head on them. There was also a standing heated towel-andbathrobe rack.

"Shelley, I have to say this is the most beautiful bathroom I've ever been in. You really did a great job."

"Your bathroom off the other bedroom is exactly like it, except the color scheme is different." "Let's go look."

Shelley's bath was all in shades of green andblue. Jane's was apricot and muted lemony colors. Jane liked hers better. It seemed warmer and more inviting.

They came back into the parlor and sat down on one of the sofas. "There's only one problem with this," Shelley admitted.

"I sure don't see what it is," Jane said, glancing around.

"Pull any of the sheer curtains away," Shelley said.

"Good Lord. It overlooks the top of the mall. All those ugly refrigeration devices and air vents all over the roof," Jane said.

"The view from all the windows is awful all the way around," Shelley admitted. "But then, you never really need to look outside."

"I do. I can see my car from here. I'll have to park it in the same place when we come back."

"Admit it, Jane. You'd forgotten about your car for a few minutes."

"Not entirely."

Shelley sat back comfortably on the sofa and said, "You'll be meeting a lot of people at the conference. Feel free to bring anyone you like up here."

"Should I? I don't think so."

"Why not?" Shelley asked.

"Because they'd think I'm a rich dilettante just trying to write as a silly hobby."

"Just tell them your roommate is the rich dilet-

tante who doesn't aspire to write anything but shopping lists. I'll even pretend it's true if it's necessary. The writing part, in fact, is true."

"Okay," Jane agreed. "As fabulous as this suite is, I need to go home. I want to take a copy of my manuscript to the conference, just in case somebody is willing to look at it."

"You've really finished it?"

"I think I have. Having a real deadline to meet helped. There are a few little dinky things I've marked to fix. And I was educated so long ago that I'm not certain about commas in series."

"The rules don't change," Shelley said.

"But they do, Shelley. Grammar isn't static. And most of what I learned in the many schools I attended as a kid in Europe involved British grammar and spelling. They do things differently."

"Like how?"

"For one thing, they use a single quote for dialogue, and a double one inside it for a word that's emphasized. Americans do it the opposite way."

"You know the weirdest things," Shelley mused. She rose and gathered up her purse. "Have you got everything you brought along? You don't really need to keep those car keys in your hand so tightly that your knuckles are white."

"I've got to hang on to them until I can put the duplicates away somewhere safe," Jane said,going once more to look out the window to enjoy a bird's-eye view of the new car.

As they descended in the elegant elevator, Jane said, "I think I'm going to need to tie something gaudy to the luggage rack on top. I don't think I'd have recognized it in a parking lot if it hadn't been sitting way off by itself."

Four

The conference registration was to begin at one-thirty Thursday afternoon. It had been Shelley's advice that Jane call the hotel at ten in the morning and ask if the suite was ready.

"You need to be the first one there. Meeting and greeting, you know," Shelley said. "There are always people who come early. People who have family in town to visit, or business to conduct privately, maybe shopping and such."

Having been assured that the suite was available, Jane gathered up her manuscript and took one long last look at it for errors. She found only two and ran out new pages. She packed it in a box and put it in a canvas bag. She also had a copy of the first three chapters and the outline of the rest of the book in case she came across an agent or editor who was interested. She'd read somewhere that this was a necessity at a writers' conference.