Chapter 26 - Bugs
Being an attentive hostess was exhausting. Annette had dipped into her snuff-box on more than once that evening to maintain the pep required. By three in the morning, the party-goers had thinned out enough for her to graciously retire herself. She took the service stairs to her and Robert's luxurious private rooms, ordered a pot of coffee and pastries from the kitchen, and took a shiny new key out from it's hiding place under the desk.
The room she unlocked was not much larger than a bathroom. It looked very much like a ship's radio communication room, with rows and rows of toggles and switches and a headset and notepad on a small wooden desk. Annette sat down behind the desk and consulted the list given to her by reception. Room 231.
She flipped the toggle for room 231 and switched on the tape recorder under the desk. Each room in the Luckier Duck had microphones embedded in the ventilation ducts. This had been Annette's brainwave and pet project. She had considered peepholes, but that was too risky. Getting caught spying on guests would be mighty bad for business. Audio would have to do for now. Annette had ambitions to get film cameras positioned behind mirrors, but the technology to control it remotely wasn't there yet. Perhaps it would be ready in time for the Luckiest Duck.
Annette put the headset on, taking care to not muss her hair up too much. The placement of the microphones inside the ventilation ducts gave everything a tinny echo, but conversation was perfectly audible. Her prey had gone to their room around the same time she did, so hopefully she wouldn't be missing anything too juicy.
"…know damn well why, Dorothy." Annette found Richard to have a somewhat soft voice for a man, although it was now sharpened by fatigue and irritation.
"I don't care what you do with your whore in our house, but when you do it public then I have a problem!" Dorothy was clearly as tired as her husband judging by her voice, but unlike Richard she sounded tipsy as well.
"You know what? I don't care what you have a problem with. I'm sick to death of pretending, of putting on this act for your stupid friends, and for what? What do I get out of it? Nothing but complaints and –"
"You get to screw your big-titted slut, that's what!" Dorothy retorted, keeping her voice down lest anyone hear it through the wall. Oh, she won't like that I'm recording this at all.
"Don't call her that, you conniving, soulless witch," Richard snapped back. He found those insults so quickly, they must fight like this often.
"What? Has she not got big tits?" Dorothy jeered at him. There was the sound of something heavy being put down. "Or is it her dazzling wit and intelligence you like about her? Because it sure as hell can't be how well she cooks because she cooks like, well, like how I imagine the whores in a cathouse cook like."
"Just shut up, shut your hateful face," Richard leveled at her. "Or don't, you can sit here and run your mouth to an empty room all night if that pleases you."
"You cannot go, I won't allow it," Dorothy stressed again. "Not in public, that is the arrangement."
"I am sick of your rules and I'm sick of you. I hope you sleep well and feel better in the morning." Richard's tone was final.
"Get back here!" Dorothy's voice was raised and near a shout.
"I'm opening the door now. If you wish to draw more attention to the situation, by all means, keep it up."
Dorothy said nothing as the door was opened and then shut almost immediately, but once the door was closed she began to mumble angerly to herself. As entertaining as that was Annette was hungry for the main course. Room 318.
It would take Richard a minute or so to reach the next floor, so she double-checked that there was enough tape on the reel. Richard hadn't been drinking so it's unlikely he was suffering from a sleepy sloe-gin schlong. She wanted it all on tape, primarily for blackmail purposes but she also got a real kick out of it all. Her collection was really growing.
Annette flipped the feed to room 318. She had lost tabs on Lupe several hours ago and presumed she had gone to sleep. There was no sound at first, but soon enough there was a rap on the door, followed by the rustling of blankets and a sleepy sigh.
The door creaked open. "Hey," Lupe softly greeted Richard. "It's so late, I was expecting you earlier."
The door closed. "I'm sorry. Where you asleep?"
"For hours now." Lupe sounded sleep drunk.
"Get back into bed then, I'll be there as soon as I get undressed."
Lupe mumbled an affirmation. The bedsprings squeaked slightly. The bathroom faucet was turned on briefly.
"Do you want some water?" Richard called from the bathroom. "I think you should drink some water otherwise you'll get a headache tomorrow."
Annette rolled her eyes. Water? Get to the good part!
"Yes please," came Lupe's drowsy voice.
A glass clinked on the nightstand, and then the rustling of sheets and blankets. "Oh, this is a soft mattress, isn't it?"
"Mmm," Lupe murmured in agreement, clearly almost asleep again.
Richard muttered something inaudible that prompted Lupe to giggle a little. And then silence.
After five minutes of quiet Annette took off her headset, disappointed that nothing interesting had transpired. He's in love with her, oh that's just rich, isn't it? There was no blackmail potential – the general public would be sympathetic to Richard having an affair of the heart as well as the body and Richard clearly did not care what Dorothy thought. It was the stuff of cheap romance novels and lazily-written radio serials.
As amusing as it would be to play the tape for Dorothy that was off the table completely as it raised too many questions with no incentive for Dorothy to keep quiet about how the recording was acquired. Back to the drawing board. Maybe she had hit a brick wall here. Her new friend Iris was most certainly having multiple flings with men, perhaps that was a better use of her time. Richard's dull as dirt anyway, the only notable thing about it is that miracle surgery he got.
The door to their suite opened and Robert strode in, carrying the tray that room service had left in front of the door. Annette gave strict instructions to never be bothered in her suite and have everything left at the door. "Hey doll, anything hot yet?"
Annette poked her head out of the listening room. "No, you aren't going to believe this. Richard made a big stink to Dorothy about going to Lupe's room for the night, but once he got there all he did was get her a glass of water."
"What a softie," Robert poured himself a cup of coffee. He was going to need the shot in the arm. Robert didn't care for snuff, said it made his heart race too much. "So boring star student Richard's in bed with her?"
Annette stood up and selected a delectable-looking cherry pastry from the tray. "Asleep. Probably snuggled up like two little kittens. Oh, he said the beds were really soft, good choice on getting Ben to supply them."
"Well hot dog. It'll be a real kick to have him there while I pick her peaches." Robert took another swig of coffee, and then made a face. "Too hot!" He coughed and cleared his throat. "Did you turn on the gas yet?"
"I was waiting for you to see if you were still interested. No point in wasting it if you aren't." Their 'sweet dreams' gas was a secret homemade blend refined after many years and an accident or two. The components, while legal in Rapture, were usually hard to find and expensive.
"Heck yeah, that Lupe's one ripe tomato." Robert took another sip of coffee.
"I'll get on it right away," Annette gave Robert a peck on the cheek.
"Make sure to record it as well."
Annette rolled her eyes. "Well of course. When have I not?" Robert's natural inclination towards micro-managing made him a bit of a pill sometimes. "Finish your coffee."
Only two rooms had the gas hookup- 318 and 320. There was a maintenance crawlspace between both those rooms with access hatches hidden under a rug so Robert could come and go unseen. The control valves were in the basement disguised as regular values but needed the capsules to have any effect.
Annette passed through the casino floor on her way to the 'basement'. Only a few gamblers were at the table. Craps table doing good, no surprises there. The doorman she passed stifled a yawn and gave her a polite nod. She unlocked the door to the basement and descended the stairs. 318 is…the red one. She loaded the capsule, spun the valve, and headed back upstairs.
It took only ten minutes for the 'sweet dreams' gas to work its magic. By the time Annette got back up to their suite Robert had finished his coffee and snack and was rearing to go. She gave him a kiss and he was on his way.
Annette made herself comfortable in her listening booth. She tuned the feed to room 318. Dead silence, and then the muffled sound of the hatching being opened from underneath and Robert climbing out. Oh that scamp, Annette thought and smiled to herself.
Someone coughed and if Annette had to guess it was Richard.
"Lovely lady," Robert muttered. "Are you wearing a nightgown or do you sleep in the nude? Let's have a look, huh?"
"Who in the hell are you?" Richard's voice suddenly cut through Robert's narration.
Annette gasped. The gas hadn't worked on him. Get out of there Robert!