Barry Eisler - Killing Rain aka One Last Kill

It was a simple room, not a suite. The lights were on in the main room, straight ahead; the bathroom, to the right, was dark. If anyone was in here, it was unlikely he’d be sitting in a dark bathroom, and I checked the main room first. It was empty. The fact that the door opened at all-that the interior dead bolt wasn’t engaged-was encouraging, of course. If someone security conscious had been in the room, he would have engaged the dead bolt. And the fact that there had been no sounds of someone being startled, no reactive movement anywhere, that was good, too. Still, I had to be sure. I checked the bathroom. Empty. I even checked the closet and under the bed, something that, but for his recent chagrin, would doubtless have elicited some comment from Dox. Nothing. We were in.

We pulled on the gloves and started looking around. Unfortunately, the room was as clean as the van. There was a change of clothes in one of the dresser drawers, an empty suitcase against a wall. Some toiletries in the bathroom. Other than that, nothing.

Dox was checking the closet. “Safe’s locked,” I heard him say.

I walked over. Yeah, there it was, a typical hotel unit. I tried it and it was indeed locked.

“Told you,” he said. “Well, you had a damn good idea about getting into the room, I’ll give you that. But I’m no safecracker, and I doubt you are, either. I think we’ve reached a dead end.”

“Maybe,” I said, looking at the safe. “Maybe not.”

I walked over to the desk, picked up the phone, and hit the button for room service. Dox looked at me quizzically, but didn’t say anything.

The phone rang once, then someone picked up. “Yes, Mr. Winters, how may I help you?” the voice on the other end said.

“Huh?” I said, looking at Dox. “You’ve got me down as Mr. Winters?”

“Uh, yes, sir, ‘Mr. Mitchell William Winters’ is what we have on the list. Are you not Mr. Winters?”

“Winters! I thought you said Vintners. I must be losing my hearing. Sorry about that.”

“No trouble at all, Mr. Winters. How may I help you?”

“Well, I was hoping you could tell me what sort of exercise equipment you have down there.”

“Exercise equipment, sir?”

“Yes, you know, stationary bicycles, weights, a sauna, that sort of thing.”

“Ah, you must want the fitness center, sir. This is room service.”

“Room service? Good God, I’m losing my mind along with my hearing. I’m so sorry to have disturbed you.”

“Not at all, sir. But the fitness center is closed now. It will reopen at six o’clock in the morning, and someone will be able to assist you then. In the meantime, if you like, you can access it with your room key.”

“I see. Well, that’s very helpful. Thank you very much.”

I hung up and turned to Dox. “Mitchell William Winters,” I said. “Or at least that’s the name he’s checked in under.”

He nodded. “Okay, but now what? ‘Open sesame’ to the safe?”

“No, I thought it would be better if you call down to the front desk and tell them you’ve forgotten the PIN you used to lock it.”

“Me? You want me to do that?”

I looked at him. “Do I look like ‘Mitchell William Winters’ to you?”

He shrugged. “Well no, now that you mention it, you don’t. But you don’t look like a John Rain, either.”

“That’s not the point. My real name could be Winters, it still wouldn’t matter. We just don’t want to provoke any questions, or make anything look out of order.”

“I know, I know, just keeping you on your toes is all. You sure no one on the staff would recognize this guy?”

I shook my head. “I wouldn’t worry about that. I don’t think he was the kind of guy who wanted to be noticed, or who would have done anything that would get him noticed.” I might have added, unlike someone we know , but that would have been counterproductive.

I glanced at my watch. It was past midnight. I wanted to get this over with and be out of here.

“Look, they won’t ask for ID,” I said. “The fact that you’re calling from the room is all the security they’ll think they need.”

“Sounds like you’ve done this before, partner.”

“And even if they ask for ID, you tell them everything is in the safe.”

“Yeah, and after that?”

I struggled not to get exasperated. Working alone definitely had a few advantages.

“You improvise,” I said. “Weren’t you a Marine?”

He looked at me. “Hell, yes, son.” He started to pick up the phone.

“Wait, wait. Get out of your clothes first. Put on one of the hotel robes. Turn on the shower as though you’re about to get in it, or better yet as though you’ve got a guest in there-it’ll make them want to leave faster.”

He grinned. “Ordinarily, partner, seeing me half-naked makes people want to stick around.”

“You can call Tiara when we’re done.”

His grin turned into a frown.

“You want to make it look like you own the room,” I told him. “This is your room, they’re here to help you, but at your invitation, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. What, have they got a master PIN or something?”

I nodded. “It’s what they use if a guest forgets his personal PIN, or dies in the room, or whatever. Theoretically, only the manager knows it.”

“Okay, then.”

“And whoever they send up, don’t let him look inside the safe. He probably won’t, he’ll probably be discreet, but be ready and don’t give him a chance. Winters might have a gun in there, who knows, and we don’t want that kind of attention.”

“Yeah, good point.”

“One more thing. Ask him if he can tell you what PIN you used. Usually the safes are configured so that the person using the master can view the last twelve PINs that have been input.”

“But if we’ve already got the safe open…”

“We’ll still want to close it up using the same PIN. If someone checks later, we don’t want it to look like someone else was in here and got in the safe.”

“You’re a thorough man, Mr. Rain. I like that about you.” He started to undress. I walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and got him a robe.

Once he was changed, I handed him the phone and pressed the button for the front desk. He explained the problem, said yes twice, thanked them, and hung up.

“Okay,” he said, “they’re on their way up to open Mr. Winters’s safe.”

“ Your safe.”

He frowned. “Look, man, I ain’t stupid, all right? I understand.”

“Listen, Dox, I don’t tell you how to snipe because you’re the best at it and I’ve got nothing to teach you there. But on these things, I’m telling you, you have to get in the right mindset or little signs will come to the surface and give you away.”

He flushed slightly. “All right, all right. I don’t mean to be sensitive. Just get off that Tiara stuff, all right?”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”

For a second, his frown started to deepen. Then he laughed.

“Yeah, I guess I’m just asking too much there,” he said.

“Give me your gloves,” I said. “And try to touch as little as possible while they’re off.”

He removed the gloves and handed them to me.

I held out my hand. “You’re a good man, Mr. Winters.”

He smiled and we shook.

“Oh, and the knives. I’ll clean them up in the bathroom while you take care of the safe.”

He pulled the knives out of his pants and handed them to me. I went into the bathroom and locked the door behind me.

It took only a few minutes to take care of the knives. I disassembled them and used the alcohol first. Quick scrub with the toothbrush. Soapy water. Rinse. Repeat with bleach. I did my hands when I was done, then turned off the sink, put on a fresh pair of gloves, wiped everything down, and reassembled the knives.