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46
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Mort, tieless and unshaven, the vertical lines of blood on his forehead, now somewhat smudged though, descended the stairs to the lobby carrying his bag. The assistant desk clerk was dozing on a chair behind the reception desk.
Mort approached the desk and knocked on the wood surface. The man still slept. He tapped the bell loudly and the sleeping clerk sprung to his feet. Mort nudged his head in the direction of the open door that stood behind the desk. "Do you have a photocopier machine back there?" He asked.
"Er, yes, Monsieur," The clerk replied.
"May I use it?" Mort asked.
"Are you a guest, Monsieur?" He asked.
"You mean I don't look like one?" Mort asked.
"Of course, Monsieur. This way, Monsieur," The clerk said, ushering him behind the desk and into the room.
"Get them to send up breakfast for two. Room 35," Mort told the clerk.
The clerk nodded and left Mort alone. Mort placed his book bag beside the photocopier and took out Balkan's 'Nine Gates'. He opened it at the first engraving - The knight with a finger to his lips - and inverted it. Positioning it on the photocopier, he shut the flap and pressed the start button. The photocopy glided out into the tray.
After making photocopies of all the engravings, he returned to his room. He entered quietly closing the door behind him. He looked to the bed to see the girl lying sprawled across the bed, fast asleep.
He grabbed a towel from off a nearby side table.
Mort crouched down in front of a floor cabinet. He put his book bag down on the floor next to him and the towel on top of it. Then he opened the door of the cabinet. He saw a tray holding two fancy glasses lying on top of the minibar.
Mort carefully lifted the tray with the glasses off of the minibar and placed it on the ground next to his bag. He turned around and saw the girl still asleep on the bed.
He turned back to the minibar and pulled it out a bit. Then he took Balkan's 'Nine Gates' from his bag and neatly wrapped it in the towel. He hid it behind the minibar and glanced around once more to make sure the girl was still asleep. He then pushed the minibar back into place and put the tray with the glasses back on top of it.
He closed the cabinet, picked up his bag and stood up. He made his way to the bathroom. Mort, with his hair damp from the shower and a towel around his waist, was halfway through shaving when there was a knock on the bathroom door.
One cheek covered with shaving cream, he opened it to find himself confronted by a floor waiter, check pad and pen in hand.
"Bonjour, Monsieur. Votre petit dejeuner," The man said.
"Oh. Sure," Mort said, taking the check pad. He emerged into the bedroom and scribbled his signature, then stopped suddenly. There was a breakfast cart in the middle of the room, holding two platters, but the bed was empty.
Mort furrowed his brow. "Where is she?" He asked.
"Pardon?" The waiter asked.
"Monsieur, ou est elle?" He asked.
"Je ne sais pas, Monsieur," The waiter replied. He walked to the door and left.
Mort caught hold of the door just as it was closing. He put his head out into the corridor, and looked right and left. But there was no one in sight except the floor waiter, who cast a puzzled glance over his shoulder as he walked off.
Mort stepped back into the bedroom and shut the door. He stood there for a moment, frowning at the empty bed. Then, suddenly he dashed over to the minibar and looked behind it. He was thrilled to see that 'The Nine Gates' was still there.
Just then the phone rang. He picked up the receiver and put it to his ear on the shaven side of his face. "Yes?" Mort asked.
"Hello, Mr. Corso," Balkan replied.