Bettmeir waved his arms in frustration at the questions raining down on him from the doctor, Mrs. Dowley and Elora Gates. Jerry had sneaked off to the cafeteria and was enjoying a dry ham sandwich and a Coke from the dispensing machines.
"Listen, lady," Bettmeir turned his scowl on Mrs. Dowley. "Hargrave was just answering some questions when he fell over on his desk. Neither my partner or I touched him and if you so much as breathe your allegation about police brutality you'll find out what it really is!"
"You can't talk to her that way, detective!" The young doctor placed a calming hand on Mrs. Dowley's shoulder and stuck out his chin at Bettmeir. "That's a- that's criminal!"
"Youk now what's criminal here? You, standing around like Horatio playing bridge instead of working to help the patient. Now buzz off!"
Elora waited until the doctor had led Mrs. Dowley away before stepping forward and with an uncontrolled smile said, "That's Horatius at the Bridge, detective"
He glowered in her direction. "Whatever. What's your interest in this anyway?"
"I'm Mister Hargrave's companion."
"Really." He leaned back and ran his eyes over her entire body.
"Did that confirm anything for you?"
"Yes, but not what you think. What do you know about Hargrave and Bootheel?"
Elora wet her lips and forced a smile. "Whatever Chester does with his male friends is his business, we have a separate arrangement."
"So you know what goes on there?"
"I have a vague idea." She looked down at her shoe and traced a tiny circle on the tile.
"A vague idea... would you like a firm idea?"
Her eyes flashed angrily and she stood a little taller. "I don't have to answer any of your questions, detective and I certainly don't have to stand here and listen to your opinions."
"On the contrary, Miss Gates. Your declaration of being Hargrave's... companion makes answering my questions a must. Like for example, where were you when Roger Cullen was killed?"
She gaped at the detective and her face mottled with rage. "You can shove your questions, detective. My lawyer will be happy to point out my rights should you care to proceed."
Bettmeir watched her strut away down the hall, his thoughts mixed with business and the way her skirt played about her hips.
"That'll give you acne, partner." Jerry came up behind Bettmeir and nudged him with his shoulder.
"Some things are worth the trouble."
"Ohoo... what did I miss?"
"That was Hargrave's 'companion'." He drew quotes in the air. "She has a vague idea of what goes on at Bootheel but claims it's Chester's business and she told me to shove my questions about Cullen."
"Sounds like a woman I could get to like."
"Sure, Jer."
"You think she might be involved?"
"Who knows."
"Chester?"
"Doctor Uppity tells me that he had a massive heart attack brought on by your questioning and that—"
"What! Wait a minute! My ques—"
"Just kidding, partner. Stress did it. He's expected to be okay but won't be active or even out of here for a few weeks."
"Your jokes aren't always that funny, Ward."
"Suppose not." He turned and headed for the exit. "But I have mentioned your sensitivity before."
Jerry swore and reached for his arm but Bettmeir skipped out of the way and hurried down the corridor, laughing.
**********
Jared considered his approach before confronting Rita. He had accessed the club's telephone records and found the call Cresta had taken from Hatti Ambrose, traced it back and found her location at the hotel. Easy when he thought about it. People just didn't know how to plan properly in the new technology age, especially amateurs. He walked into the lobby and went straight to the front desk.
"Good afternoon sir, how may I help you?" The glistening, fake Hollywood smile made Jared hate the man instantly.
"Miss Cornell's room please."
Hollywood punched some keys on his computer, frowned, modified the smile and announced that there was no one by that name registered.
"Try Ambrose."
"Uh, we have a policy—"
"So do I." Jared leaned close to the young man. "It involves getting very, very angry when I don't get my way."
Hollywood blanched and hit a few more keys. "Sorry. No one by that name either." He saw Jared's face close and he spun the screen around. "Honestly! See for yourself."
Jared did. The man was telling the truth. He nodded and left the hotel and went back to his car. Using his laptop, he traced the time of the call to Cresta and then hacked into the hotel phone system. Four calls had been placed from the hotel at exactly that time and Jared patiently called each number until he hit Cresta's phone then he checked the room number indicated on the registry and smiled satisfactorily. Duck soup.
Rita looked through the peephole but couldn't see anyone. She hesitated and then called out for a name.
"Mister Weiss to see Miss Cornell."
She bit her lip and stepped back from the door. Weiss? She didn't know any Weiss but how did he know Rita Cornell... here... in this room? Everybody did know who and where she was. She'd checked out with each disguise change and checked back in; how would he know?
She peered through the hole again. "Sorry, there's no Corn—"
Before there was time for a complete answer, the lock clicked and the door pushed open, knocking her back across the room and Jared moved quickly inside, pocketing his lock pick and snugging his grey kid gloves over his fingers.
"Hello, Hatti."
"J- Jared?" She felt sick at automatically using his name and she saw the light flash in his eyes.
"Mister Weiss in this circumstance." He walked toward her casually, his eyes sparkling brightly.
"What do you want?" Rita backed up and fell onto the bed.
Jared wandered around the bed and over to the window. He picked up a hotel menu, studied it for a moment and then put it down.
"You have been a naughty lady, Hatti, or is it Rita? No it's another name by now isn't it? No matter, all of you will have to atone." He strolled back to the foot of the bed, straddling her feet. "You made a video that has upset some very important people and I'm here to represent their concerns."
Rita cursed Cresta under her breath, never thinking she would carry through with her threat. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Please, Hatti... don't take me for a fool. I used to admire you at the club; of course you looked a lot different then. New hair and eyes I see. This change of appearance has something to do with my reason for being here, right?"
"Jared, I don't—"
"Mister Weiss, Hatti. Mister Weiss."
"Sorry, Mister Weiss. Tell me what you want..." His mouth turned down and the fists clenched at his side.
"I have told you and you seem to think I'm joking."
"No! No, honestly. Look Ja- Mister Weiss, can't we come to some kind of arrangement?"
"Yes. Certainly." He punched her in the side of the head and Rita flew off the bed and onto the floor, her eyes bouncing to the jumble of stars she was seeing. "I can arrange to leave you a drooling idiot if you prefer."
Rita held up a shaking hand and begged for time. "Okay. Okay..." She struggled to her feet and nearly lost her balance, falling into the side table for support. He waited, smiling, as she made her way to the cupboard, brought out the disc and handed it to him.
"That's all I have." She held the side of her head and felt the swelling beginning.
"Hmmm." He went to the player and slipped the disc in, turning on the TV and hitting play. When it was over, Jared pocketed the disc and walked over to her. "Why would you think that anyone at Bootheel would pay money for a video about the Cropmaster and Chester Hargrave?" She began to tremble and Jared looked down with a sad sigh. "I know about the drug threat, Hatti."
The next punch caught her full on the mouth and she crashed backwards into the bathroom doorway, falling and hitting her head on the floor. Jared was over her in a flash, his face inches from hers, his face an obvious question.
"Elora Gates." She blubbered. "She has the full disc." Blood swelled out of her mouth and down her chin and she began to sob in pain and humiliation.
"And Elora Gates is...?"
"Chester's girlfriend... she lives with him."
Jared stood and pulled her to her feet. He shoved her over to the bathroom sink and took a cloth from the rack, soaking it in icy water and pushing it onto her mouth.
"Hold that there, it'll help." He took a final look and shook his head as if she had spoiled something for him. "I trust this visit has brought home a message."
Rita sat down on the toilet and looked up at him through swelling, teary eyes and nodded.