End Game

CHAPTER 46

The Lancaster was a ten-story hotel with a granite hide and a long green awning out front, guarded by a liveried doorman in a top hat. Robie and Reel parked in the underground garage and took an elevator to the main lobby.

It was large, and meticulously designed and decorated. The men and women traversing the lobby looked far more affluent than the average citizen.

“I wonder what rooms cost here?” asked Reel.

“More than we can afford on a government per diem, that’s for damn sure,” replied Robie.

They approached the front desk, where Robie showed his credentials.

The young woman looked like she’d been jolted by electricity. “How can I help you?” she said nervously.

“We understand there was a birthday party here about a week ago, complete with a casino theme?”

“I don’t have personal knowledge of that.”

Robie pointed at her computer. “Well, maybe that thing does.”

“Should I get a manager?”

“Not if you can hit the right keys on the computer. It’s a national security interest case,” he added.

The woman gulped. “Do you mean terrorists?”

“I can’t get into that, but it’s really important that we know about this party.”

She clicked some keys and said, “Okay, that’s right. Eight days ago there was a casino-themed birthday party in the main ballroom.”

“Can you tell us who threw the party?” asked Reel.

The woman clicked some more keys. “It appears that a Roark Lambert paid for it.”

“But his birthday was five months ago,” said Robie.

“I don’t know about that. But he clearly paid for the party.”

“Do you know the name of the person who the party was for?” asked Reel.

“That’s not on this information sheet.”

“Is there another way to look it up?” persisted Reel.

“I’m not sure what a birthday party has to do with national security,” the woman said suspiciously.

“Do you at least have someone here who worked the party that we can talk to?”

The woman scanned the screen. “I think Jerry, one of the waiters, is in today. He was working the party.” She picked up a phone, dialed a number, and spoke into it.

After a few moments she put down the phone and said, “He’ll be here in a minute or so.”

“Thank you very much,” said Robie.

They moved off to a corner of the lobby.

Reel said, “Something is bugging me.”

“Like what?”

“Something someone said to us.”

“Who?”

“That’s what I’m trying to think of.”

As a young man dressed in a hotel uniform came out from a back hall and looked around curiously, Reel said, “Got it.”

“What?”

She hurried over to the young man. “Are you Jerry?” she asked, as Robie joined her.

He nodded. “This is about some party I worked here?”

Reel said, “Was it a birthday party for someone named Randall?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Scott Randall. Some really rich guy. Got a supermodel wife. It was a really wild party.”

“Did you see any of the casino folks that were hired to work the party?”

“Yeah. I met a couple of them. A guy named Barry and a woman. I don’t really remember her name.”

“Beverly Drango?” suggested Reel.

He snapped his fingers. “That’s right. She had a name clip with Beverly on it. She worked the craps table.”

“Did you see her interact much with Randall? Or the guy who threw the party, Roark Lambert?”

“Not really. It was pretty crazy. Lots of people and I was hustling drinks all night. It was free booze courtesy of the host. And there were a lot of really good-looking women. I think they might have been like, you know, escorts or something that were hired to attend. Some of the guys were getting really looped and copping feels all over the place. But the ladies didn’t seem to mind, which is why I think they were paid to be here. And some of the guys left with some of those women and went upstairs. For dessert, I guess,” he added with a grin.

“Anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?” asked Robie.

“Not really. Just lots of money, lots of booze, and people having a good time. I remember thinking that there’d be a lot of guys who’d want to be Scott Randall. He’s not that much older than me. Money, gorgeous wife. I heard somebody say he played college football. He’s a big, strong guy. Good-looking. And somebody said he’s got his own jet.”

“Makes you feel any better, he inherited it all from his dad.”

“Damn, some people have all the luck.”

“Yeah, well if I were you, I’d aim higher than Scott Randall,” said Reel before walking away.

Barry looked at Robie. “What’d she mean by that? I don’t see any private jets or supermodels in my future.”

“Are you an asshole?” asked Robie.

“What? No, I mean, no, I’m not. I may not be rich but I’m a nice guy. Ask anybody.”

“Then that’s what she means by aiming higher.”

Robie caught up to Reel at the elevator banks. “How’d you figure Randall in this?” he asked.

“I remembered what Lambert said to us. He told us that Randall had recently turned thirty-eight.”

“That’s right. But why would Lambert foot the bill for the birthday party?”

“Because Randall had just dropped four million on an apartment in the bunker. I guess the profit margin allowed Lambert to throw the guy a party.”

“Never would have occurred to me. Guess that’s why I’m not a businessman.”

“Guess so.”

They rode the elevator down to their truck and drove out of the garage.

Robie said, “So Drango worked a party thrown for Scott Randall and paid for by Roark Lambert. Which rich a-hole was she referring to?”

“Maybe both.”

“But how does that help us?”

“It could be a coincidence that Drango worked that party. But if Lambert or Randall was involved with the people in the van, Drango might have overheard something at the party.”

“But she said that Lamarre had already told her about the van.”

“Right. So if she did hear something suspicious at the party she would have been able to tie it to the van because she knew about it.”

“That makes sense.” He smiled. “You have the makings of a good detective.”

She didn’t return the smile. “And my detective skills are telling me something is off with you and Malloy. And I’d like to know what it is.”

Robie’s grin faded and he focused on his driving.