Murder on West 50th street.

Chapter 6: Welcome to the Waldorf Astoria.

I raced down East 50th street. I estimated that I could arrive at the Waldorf Hotel before him as he was bound to have trouble with the one way system and parking. I, on the other hand, having the luxury of my Harley, could navigate my way down the side alleys. I parked my bike in the alley way, in front of the back entrance. I flashed my badge at 2 guys emptying the bins, ran through the kitchen and up the back stairs to the lobby. At the reception, I called over the duty manager discreetly showed him my ID.

"A tall, strawberry blond man is going to make a delivery here in the next five to ten minutes."I said hurriedly, in a tone just above a whisper. "I want you to put it aside and remember precisely his instructions." I fished out a 50$ note from my purse and slid it across the counter. He smiled at me and surreptitiously put the money in his back pocket. Leaving the reception desk, I picked up a newspaper and went to sit in one of the comfortable chairs located in the far corner of the room, facing the reception.

A lifetime passed and a few minutes later, in walked James' killer, a silver briefcase in hand. The duty manager stopped what he was doing, shooed another receptionist away as he greeted Eric, grinning like a Cheshire cat. The two spoke conspiratorially over the desk with only a few inches separating their heads. Eric handed over the case and placed a bill on the counter that was quickly deposited with its friend, my $50 bill. I dropped the paper on the seat beside me and hurried over to the front desk as Eric exited the building. The duty manager told me that the case was to be handed to a detective who would arrive soon. I demanded that he hand over the case but he said "No can do. The other guy said the detective coming would be a dude, and that you are not."

"Fine."I snarled. "Do you have an attaché case that I could use?" I asked.

He said he only had the one his wife had bought him last Christmas in the back office.

"Right, I want you to fill it with papers and lock it. When the guy comes," I said sarcastically, "give him your case."

He looked at me blankly.

"Okay, okay."I said and slid another 50 across the countertop. With the speed of a striking cobra, the bill joined its friends in the back pocket. He smiled and asked about the silver case. I told him to put it in the hotel safe immediately and only hand it over to the FBI agents who would arrive with a warrant.

"This whole reception area is under CCTV surveillance?"I inquired. He nodded.

"Yesmadam."He said haughtily, as if I'd insulted the hotel personally. I returnedto my seat in the corner and waited for the guy.    

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Marie