back of his team.
“I’ll tell him, Tommy,” George replied with a half salute toward the driver.
Matt followed the bellboy into the hotel lobby.
“Right over there, sir,” the bellboy, who was a black man, said.
“Thank you,” Matt replied. He walked over to the desk and began signing the register.
“Well, Mr. Jensen, is it?” the clerk said, looking at the register. “My, I see you are from Colorado.”
“Yes.”
“Welcome to St. Louis. I’ll put you on the sixth floor. That way you will have an excellent view of the city.”
“Thank you. Tell me, what would be the best way to find someone in this city?” Matt asked as he took the key.
“Most of the cabbies know the city pretty well,” the clerk answered. “Just give them the address, they’ll take you there.”
“That’s just it. I don’t know the address,” Matt said.
“Oh, my, well, that does make it a bit more difficult, doesn’t it?” the clerk replied. “Do you know the person’s name?”
“Yes.”
“Well, if he has a telephone, you can call him. As a guest of the hotel, you are authorized to use the public phone in the lobby.”
“Telephone?”
“Have you not used a telephone before, sir?”
“No, I haven’t. I’ve read about them, though.”
“It’s really quite simple. You turn the crank to signal the operator. She will then ask you what number you wish to call, and once you give it to her, she will connect you.”
The clerk showed Matt how to look up the number. Matt thanked him, looked through the directory, and found an Andrew Marcus. The number beside his name was 109J.
Matt turned the crank, then held the receiver to his ear.
“Number, please.”
The voice was tinny, but quite audible.
“Ha! I’ll be damned!” Matt said.
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Matt said. “Excuse me, it just surprised me to hear how this thing works.”
The woman chuckled. “You’ve never used the telephone before?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Well, do you know the number you are calling?”
“Yes, ma’am, it’s one zero nine J.”
“One moment, please, and I will connect you,” the operator said.
Matt heard a ringing sound in his ear and he jerked the receiver away. “What’s that?”
“It’s all right, sir,” the operator explained. “What you are hearing is the telephone of the party you just called. The party answering the phone will say ‘Hello.’ Then you can talk.”
Almost as if waiting for a cue, the phone was answered.
“Hello?” It was a woman’s voice.
Matt didn’t respond.
“Hello?” the woman said again.
“Go ahead, sir,” the operator said.
“Uh—hello,” Matt said. “I’m trying to find a man named Andrew Marcus.”
“This is Mrs. Andrew Marcus,” the woman said. “How can I help you?”
“Mrs. Marcus, I was a friend of Lee Marcus, Andrew’s brother. I’ve come to—”
“You have the wrong number,” the woman on the other end of the line said.
“The number I have is one zero nine J,” Matt said.
“This is one zero nine J,” the woman replied. “But my husband has no brothers. He has two sisters, but no brothers.”
“Oh,” Matt said. “I’m sorry. I apologize for disturbing you.”
“That’s all right,” the woman said. “I hope you find your party.”
That was the only Andrew Marcus with a telephone, though there were two other Andrew Marcuses in the city
