Neither of the de
Moches seemed to be downstairs.
Kennedy sauntered over to the desk and looked over the register.
We already knew that Whitney and the Senora had suites on the
eighth floor, on opposite sides and at opposite ends of the hall.
The de Moche suite was under the number 810. That of Whitney was
825.
"Is either 823 or 827 vacant?" asked Kennedy as the clerk came
over to us.
He turned to look over his list. "Yes, 827 is vacant," he found.
"I'd like to have it," said Kennedy, making some excuse about our
luggage being delayed, as he paid for it for the night.
"Front!" called the clerk, and a moment later we found ourselves
in the elevator riding up.
The halls were deserted at that time in the evening except for a
belated theatre-goer, and in a few minutes there would ensue a
period in which there was likely to be no one about.
We entered the room next to Whitney's without being observed by
any one of whom we cared. The boy left us, and it was a simple
matter after that to open a rather heavy door that communicated
between the two suites and was not protected by a Yale lock.
Instead of switching on the lights, Kennedy first looked about
carefully until he was assured that there was no one there.
Pages:
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230