The Rule of Nine

THIRTY-FIVE

Joselyn, Herman, and I checked into the Hotel Melia in downtown Ponce. The Melia is in the historic area, about ten blocks from the cathedral and the Hotel Belgica. Joselyn checked into her room while Herman and I took the car and headed toward the Belgica to see what we could find out.

It took a few minutes to make our way through town, Herman behind the wheel with me navigating. Ponce is a larger and more congested area than it looked like on the map pictured on Joselyn’s computer.

When we finally found the street that went in front of the Belgica, traffic was one-way, and by the time we got in front of the hotel we were almost past it before we realized. There were cars parked on both sides of the street, with nowhere for us to stop. Then we got lucky.

A car pulled out of a spot at the curb across the street about a half block down from the entrance to the hotel. Herman blocked traffic, with horns blaring behind us, to let the guy out, then pulled forward, backed in, and turned off the engine.

“You got those photographs of Thorn?” he says.

I reach over to the backseat and find the three photos in my briefcase. “I thought we agreed we weren’t going to use these?”

“Sit tight.” With that, Herman takes the photographs from my hand and is out of the car. He slams the door, leaving me in the passenger seat as he strolls down the sidewalk in the shade until he is just opposite the entrance to the hotel. I watch as he slips between traffic, crosses the street, and disappears through the entrance under the awning.

We had already decided that we would use the photographs of Thorn to question the clerk at the front desk only as a last resort. Innkeepers are generally protective of their guests. Any word that someone was asking questions about him and Thorn would vanish like a puff of smoke. And any hopes of finding a trail that might lead to Liquida would vanish with him. Of course, all of this assumes that Thorn is even here.

While I’m waiting in the car I feel the cell phone on my hip and I’m wishing I could call Sarah. I could, but I don’t. I haven’t spoken to her in several days, and by agreement we haven’t called each other. It’s a problem. I have had to delete all contact information on her from my phone in case either I or the phone falls into Liquida’s hands. There are simply too many records maintained on cell phones and computers to feel safe. Even without information in your contact lists, a call made or received showing an area code can leave an indelible record that can be traced. I am glad that Harry is with her.

Herman is inside the Belgica for a while. It’s starting to warm up in the car.

Just as I reach for the door handle I see Herman step out from the hotel’s entrance under the awning. He has some literature in his hand and a smile on his face. He crosses the street, sashaying between the cars, making his way back, and opens the driver’s-side door. Then he settles in behind the wheel.

“You look satisfied.”

“It’s hot in here.”

“I know.”

He puts in the key and turns on the engine and the air conditioner. Then he closes the door.

“What did you find out?”

“We got lucky,” says Herman. “Our man’s there.”

“Did you see him?”

“No, but Joselyn said Thorn had an Australian accent. The kid behind the registration desk was very helpful. I told him I was lookin’ for a man with an Australian accent who was supposed to be stayin’ at the hotel. I slipped him a couple of twenties, showed him my PI credentials, and told him I was serving process in a divorce case.”

“And?”

“He says, ‘You mean Señor Johnston?’” Herman looks at me and smiles. “So much for hotel privacy. I showed him the close-up photo of Thorn and the kid says, ‘Yeah, he checked in two days ago.’”

“How do you know he won’t tell Thorn?”

“Best reason in the world, economic stimulus,” says Herman. “I told him the two twenties I gave him had brothers. If he kept his mouth shut until after I served Johnston, I’d make it an even hundred. I stuffed another twenty in his pocket on the way out just to keep him happy. So you know what that means?”

“Yeah. I owe you sixty bucks,” I tell him. “And if you pay him the other forty it’s coming out of your own pocket.”

“Don’t worry. You don’t have to pay me right now,” he says. “I’ll put it on my next billing statement.”

“Is Thorn in the hotel now?” I ask.

“No. He leaves his key at the desk when he goes out and picks it up when he comes back. The clerk checked. The key was in one of the slots behind the counter, room 219,” says Herman. “Guess who’s in 221?” He opens his hand and flashes me the key. “Looks like you and I won’t be snorin’ in the same room tonight. And by the way, you can tell Joselyn that, for the record, you do snore.”

“Did the desk clerk have any idea when Thorn might be back?”

“No, but he said Señor Johnston seems to be on some kind of a schedule and appears to be working very hard.”

“How’s that?”

“According to the clerk, he leaves every morning between six thirty and seven and doesn’t get back until after dark. Kid says he doesn’t know where he goes or what he does. Johnston keeps to himself. But he’s gone all day. Tell you what, I’ll drop you back at the Melia, then I’ll have to bring the car over here. I’ll need it in case Thorn shows up and leaves again, so I can follow him. My room’s right next door to his, so I should hear him when he comes in.”

“Do you want me to call Thorpe again, tell him we think we found Thorn?” I ask.

“We got this far, why don’t we wait and see what’s goin’ on? Besides, he didn’t seem that enthusiastic the last time.”

“He was busy,” I tell him.

“He’s always busy,” says Herman.

“I’d feel a whole lot better if we hadn’t had to leave the pistols in my car at the airport in Tucson,” I tell him.

“Makes two of us,” says Herman. “I’ll just have to be extra careful and keep my distance till we find out what Thorn’s up to. In the meantime, I need to park the car in the back. You were right. The clerk says there’s a lot back there. He gave me a parking pass. He says it’s where Johnston parks his car. He asked me if it was possible to serve him with the process back there in the parking lot, can you beat it? He says his boss wouldn’t want anything unpleasant to happen in the hotel.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Told him I would. Why not? This way the clerk won’t be asking any questions when he sees me follow Thorn out of the hotel. I told him it could take a day or two to find the right moment, so I could lay the papers on him without causing any embarrassment.”

“And the kid bought it?”

“Oh, yeah. I got him believing process servers are all jet-setting chichi types. Personally, I always fly in early, check into a swank hotel, taste the wine, and lay around the pool for a few days so’s I can practice to see which hand I’m gonna use to lay on the paper.” Herman glances at me and laughs. He starts the car and looks over his shoulder to check for traffic. “Young clerk’s gonna be mighty disappointed when we have to call 911 and SWAT shows up with Thor’s hammer to take Mr. Johnston’s door off the hinges, burn holes in the carpets, and smoke the place up with flash bangs. That kinda stuff tends to knock a few diamonds off your rating with three A,” he says.

“I’d like to keep it to ourselves until we know what Thorn’s up to and hopefully get a lead on Liquida,” I tell him.

Herman ignores me. “You need to get some rest. I’ll get you back to your hotel. Listen. You go upstairs, knock on her door wearing your jammies and dragging a blanket behind you with a pillow under your arm, and tell her you want to take a nap. Wipe a little sleep from your eyes when she opens the door.” He looks at me, and for a moment I think he’s serious. Then I realize that he is.

“Trust me, it’ll work,” he says. “Women love that shit. They can’t resist it.”

“You don’t know Joselyn. I think she can resist anything. And if not, she’ll just analyze the hell out of it until it dies.”

“No. Trust me. She won’t be able to say no. It’s something about the maternal instinct.”

“What, and tell her I’m having a nightmare, so I can crawl into her pants? If I tried to manipulate her like that, she’d shrink-wrap my brain, tell me I’m suffering from an anal-retentive disorder, and spin me around like a compass until my dick was pointing back to my own room.” I shake my head. “Listen, I’m not sure there’s anything real happening between us. I mean, sure I’m attracted to her. I’m a red-blooded male. What’s not to like? She’s beautiful, sexy, cute, smart…”

“Listen to yourself,” says Herman. “You’re not sure there’s anything happening between the two of you, but you’re about to have an orgasm all over Avis’s front seat.”

“It takes two before you have a relationship. I’m not sure she has any deep interest in me.”

“She’s got the hots for you.”

“Says who?”

“Says who? Says me.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“She doesn’t have to. I got eyes. I can see and I can hear. And everything I see and hear tells me she’s got a lock on you like a radar beam. Why do you think she’s trailing along with us?”

“Because of her past dealings with Thorn. She wants to see him get nailed,” I tell him.

“Sure, she hates the guy. She’s scared to death of him. But that’s not the reason she’s here. She’s worried about you.”

“You think so?”

“When it comes to women, you’re pretty damn dense,” he says. “No wonder you haven’t gotten married since your wife died.”

“That’s a tender subject,” I tell him.

“And it’s an old one, ancient history. You gotta move on. From what I can see, you got one hell of an opportunity dangling in front of you right now. If I were you, I wouldn’t let it die on the vine, not without tasting the wine, sampling the vintage, to see if you like it.”

“I’m not sure I…”

“Don’t tell me you’re not interested. I’ve seen the way you look at her. And if I die in my sleep tonight, I wouldn’t want the last words I hear from your lips to be a lie. So bite your tongue,” he says.