Jamie Freveletti - Running Dark

Banner smiled. She had delivered the compliment with an aplomb he admired.

“I imagine that the men who patronize your establishment don’t come here because they are unable to obtain female companionship on the outside. I’ll wager that they have other impulses that drive them to engage in such a transaction.”

Ms. Kartiner looked amused. “That’s true. And you? Do you have any impulses that you’d like to explore?”

Banner shook his head. “Just the impulse to locate my friend.” He pointed to the entrance. “Do they all leave through this door?”

She smiled. “Yes. Do you wish to wait and see if he appears?”

“I do.”

“Please, make yourself comfortable. This isn’t our main sitting room—we have a bar and lounge area upstairs, but only paying guests are allowed to proceed to that level. Nevertheless, I’ll have a drink brought to you. There is the magazine rack”—she pointed to a Lucite rack that held magazines behind transparent sleeves—“and newspapers in every language are on that wall”—she pointed to a wooden ladder that held folded newspapers. “What would you like to drink?”

“A double espresso would be greatly appreciated.”

“Of course.” She glided away, her heels making a clicking sound on the marble floor.

Banner watched her as she left. As professional as she was, it was clear to him that she wouldn’t give him the information he needed. Despite what he’d told her, he didn’t have the time to sit in the lobby waiting for the off chance that Rickell would emerge from the upstairs rooms. He was going to have to work on the manager some more.

Ten minutes later a stunning cocktail waitress appeared carrying a black tray. This one was young; Banner estimated that she was no more than twenty-five, with long, shiny brown hair and brown uptilted eyes set in an exotic face. She wore a short black dress that revealed miles of leg and high stiletto heels. She placed before him a narrow silver tray containing a black-and-white demitasse cup filled with thick, sweet-smelling coffee, a tiny silver spoon, and a glass of water. She bestowed a practiced, seductive smile on him.

“Can I get you anything else?” She also spoke in English, but with a slight Eastern European accent. Banner handed her a five-euro bill.

She refused the offer. “Frau Kartiner said that you were not to be charged.”

Banner placed the money on the tray. “Tell her thank you.”

“Shall I escort you inside? Frau Kartiner suggested that I ask you.”

Banner was beginning to understand why Frau Kartiner was the owner of the establishment. She had excellent marketing skills.

“I’ll just stay here, thank you,” Banner said.

The young woman looked surprised. “You’re not going in?”

Banner shook his head. “Not my habit.”

A look of yearning came over the woman’s face. All the practiced seduction was gone. “Then why are you here?”

“I’m looking for my friend. An American man about fifty years old.”

The woman looked puzzled. “There aren’t any Americans here right now. Only locals and a group of Asian men in town for a convention.”

Banner frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, yes. You see, it’s early yet. While we have walk-ins, they don’t typically occur until much later in the evening. The early hours are usually filled with the regulars and preregistered conventioneers.”

Banner considered the girl worth her weight in gold, because he was now free to move on. He followed up his four euro bills with twenty more.

“Thanks for saving me a lot of time sitting here. Do you have any ideas where my friend might be? Are there any other establishments nearby?”

She seemed to consider his question. “Does he have a specific requirement? If he does, that would narrow down the choices.” Banner knew nothing about Rickell’s predilections, if he had any at all. If Rickell had been drugged, it meant his judgment was impaired. He could be acting in a manner foreign even to himself.

“None that I know of.”

“Try the Speakeasy. Two streets down and left. It’s not as nice as here, but the American GIs like it.”

He could only hope that Rickell was not so impaired as to walk into a cathouse loaded with American army men. Banner would go there last.

“Anyplace else? He likes poker. Are there any places where he could play a game?”

The waitress turned toward the manager and fired off a long question in German.

The manager shook his head. He directed his attention to Banner. “None of the houses have girls and a casino together.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean that call girls don’t work off the books in casinos, but that’s the same everywhere.”

Banner downed his espresso in one gulp. “How about an off-the-books game in a regulated house?”

The manager gave Banner a knowing look. “Try the VIP Lounge. It’s a block north on the diagonal. There’s no sign, just a small plaque that says ‘Private Club.’ They often get a game going there.”

“Thanks.” Banner stood. The whole time he’d been there, not one man had entered. “Is business always this slow?”

The manager smiled. “Not at all, but there’s a championship soccer game on television tonight. Business is always slow when that happens.”

Banner didn’t bother to hide his surprise. “Soccer trumps women?”

The manager nodded. “In Germany soccer trumps everything.”

48

EMMA FINISHED HIDING THE VIALS. JANKLOW HAD LEFT TO GOto the bridge. She stripped off the mechanic’s jumpsuit and shoved it into a drawer just as the electricity went off, plunging her into darkness. She fumbled along a wall to the exit.

The halls were slightly more lit than the cargo area. She made her way toward the bridge, running a hand along the wall to keep her bearings. She heard the fizz of electricity as it surged in fits and starts into the lightbulbs. The area in front of her flickered.

She turned a corner and stopped. People filled the small area, stretching in a long line thirty feet back from a door marked NURSE. Cindy and Marina were squeezing past the waiting patients. Cindy spotted Emma and gave her a nod.

“What’s this line about?” Emma asked.

Cindy looked uncomfortable. “Come over here.” She led Emma away from the entrance, stopping after they turned the corner. “That’s the line of people asking for drugs.”

“Drugs? What do you mean?”

“I mean drugs. Tranquilizers, sleeping pills, you name it. The nurse is pretty near the end of her rope.”

“Can I talk to her? I just need to ask her a question. Of course I’m happy to help in any way I can, but I’m not licensed to dispense medications, so there’s no way I can assist her with that line.”

Cindy started back toward the office door. “Follow me.”

They made it to the nurse’s office door. The people in the front of the line frowned at their intrusion. One man said, “Get back in line. We were here first.”

Cindy put her hands on her hips. “She’s not here for medication, Captain Wainwright sent her. She needs to speak to Nurse Miller.”

The man subsided a bit. “Are the pirates gone? What’s the captain doing? We’re going to die out here! I tell you, when I get back to Phoenix, I’m demanding a refund. This trip has been a disaster.”

“I understand completely,” Emma sympathized. “Captain Wainwright is keeping a close watch on the radar. He’s an excellent captain.” Emma kept her voice soothing. The man seemed a bit mollified by her manner.

“He’s a good man, I know. I don’t mean to imply that he’s not, but I’m so anxiety-ridden over this situation that I can barely control myself. Why, just an hour ago I thought I would explode. I’m really here for my wife. She threatened to jump off the railing into the sea during the last attack.” The man’s eyes filled with tears. “She’s never done anything close to that before. I calmed her down, but I can’t watch her day and night. I came to see if the nurse can give her some anti-anxiety medication.” The man sighed a jagged sigh and then patted Emma’s arm. “You go ahead on in. I’m not usually like this, all teary-eyed and such.” He rapped once on the closed door before opening it for her. “I’ll wait till you’re done.”