The maid was on her knees in front of the bathtub, scrubbing its interior. A can of Comet was on the floor by her knees.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Al stepped behind the woman and, using the folded towel as a garrote, strangled her. She made some muffled noises but they were covered by the sound of the bathwater. Her face turned red, then purple. When Al let up the tension on the ends of the towel, she slumped to the floor like a limp rag doll.
Al found the passkeys in her pocket on a brass ring the size of a bracelet. Back in the hall, he hung a Do Not Disturb sign on the knob and closed the door to the suite. Then he pushed the housekeeping cart out of sight into the stairwell. Flexing his fingers like a pianist preparing for a recital, he started for room 1127.
17
MARISSA PEELED THE LAST of the breakfast fruit with the wooden-handled paring knife, leaving the knife and rinds on her night table. She was on the phone to Northwest Airlines trying to make a reservation to Minneapolis. She had decided PAC and company would figure she’d probably go to LA next, so Minneapolis seemed as good a bet as any.
The agent finally confirmed her on an afternoon flight. Flopping back on the bed, she began to debate how she should spend the next hour or so, but while she was thinking, exhaustion overtook her and she fell asleep.
She was awakened by a metallic click. It sounded like the door, but she knew she’d left up the Do Not Disturb sign. Then she saw the knob silently begin to turn.
She remembered being caught in the hotel room in Chicago by the man with the vaccination gun. Panic danced through her like an electrical current. Pulling herself together, she reached for the phone.
Before Marissa could lift the receiver, the door burst open, splintering part of the jamb as the screws holding the chain lock plate were yanked out of the molding. A man slammed the door shut then hurled himself onto Marissa. He grabbed her by the neck with both hands and shook her like a mad dog in a frenzy. Then he pulled her ashen face close to his. “Remember me?” he snarled furiously.
Marissa remembered him. It was the blond man with the Julius Caesar haircut.
“You have ten seconds to produce the vaccination gun,” hissed Al, loosening the death grip he had on Marissa’s throat. “If you don’t, I’ll snap your neck.” To emphasize his point, he gave her head a violent jolt, sending a flash of pain down her spine.
Barely able to breathe, Marissa fruitlessly clawed at the man’s powerful wrists. He shook her again, hitting her head against the wall. By reflex Marissa’s hands extended behind her to cushion her body.
The lamp fell off the bedside table and crashed to the floor. The room swam as her brain cried for oxygen.
“This is your last chance,” shouted Al. “What did you do with that vaccinator?”
Marissa’s hand touched the paring knife. Her fingers wrapped around the tiny haft. Holding it in her fist, she hammered it up into the man’s abdomen as hard as she could. She had no idea if she’d penetrated anything, but Al stopped speaking in midsentence, let go of Marissa and rocked back on his haunches. His face registered surprise and disbelief. She switched the tiny knife to her right hand, keeping it pointed at Al, who seemed confused when he saw the blood staining his shirt.
She hoped to back up to the door and run, but before she reached it he leaped at her like an enraged animal, sending her racing to the bathroom. It seemed as if only hours before she’d been in the same predicament in Chicago.
Al got his hand around the door before it shut. Marissa hacked blindly, feeling the tip of her knife strike bone. Al screamed and yanked his hand away, leaving a smear of blood on the panel. The door slammed shut, and Marissa hastily locked it.
She was about to dial the bathroom phone when there was a loud crash and the entire bathroom door crashed inward. Al forced Marissa to drop the phone, but she hung on to the knife, still stabbing at him wildly. She hit his abdomen several times, but if it had any effect, it wasn’t apparent.
Ignoring the knife, Al grabbed Marissa by her hair and flung her against the sink. She tried to stab him again, but he grabbed her wrist and bashed it against the wall until her grip loosened and the weapon clattered to the floor.
He bent down to pick it up, and as he straightened, Marissa grabbed the phone that was swinging on its cord and hit him as hard as she could with the receiver. For a brief instant, she wasn’t sure who was hurt more. The blow had sent a bolt of pain right up to her shoulder.
For a moment Al stood as if he were frozen. Then his blue eyes rolled upward, and he seemed to fall in slow motion into the bathtub, striking his head on the faucets.
As Marissa watched, half expecting Al to get up and come at her again, a beeping noise snapped her into action. She reached over and hung up the receiver. Glancing back into the tub, she was torn between fear and her medical training. The man had a sizable gash over the bridge of his nose, and the front of his shirt was covered with blood stains. But terror won out, and Marissa grabbed her purse and ran from the room. Remembering the man had not been alone in New York, she knew she had to get away from the hotel as soon as possible.
Descending to the ground floor, Marissa avoided the front entrance. Instead, she went down a flight of stairs and followed arrows to a rear exit. Standing just inside the door, she waited until a cable car came into view. Timing her exit to give herself the least exposure, she ran out of the hotel and jumped onto the trolley.
Marissa forced her way through the crowd to the rear. She looked back at the hotel as the car began to move. No one came out.
George blinked in disbelief. It was the girl. Quickly he dialed Jake’s car.
“She just came out of the hotel,” said George, “and jumped on a cable car.”
“Is Al with her?” asked Jake.
“No,” said George. “She’s by herself. It looked like she was limping a little.”
“Something is weird.”
“You follow her,” said George. “The cable car is just starting. I’ll go into the hotel and check on Al.”
“Right on,” said Jake. He was more than happy to let George deal with Al. When Al found out the girl had flown, he was going to be madder than shit.
Marissa looked back at the hotel for any sign of being followed. No one came out of the door, but as the cable car began to move, she saw a man get out of an auto and run for the hotel’s rear entrance. The timing was suggestive, but as the man didn’t even look in her direction, she dismissed it as a coincidence. She continued to watch until the cable car turned a corner and she could no longer see the Fairmont. She’d made it.
She relaxed until a loud clang almost made her jump out of her skin. She started for the door before she realized it was just the overhead bell that the conductor rang as he collected fares.
A man got off, and Marissa quickly took his seat. She was shaking and suddenly scared she might have blood stains on her clothes. The last thing she wanted was to call attention to herself.
As her fear abated, she became more aware of the pain where her hip had hit the sink, and her neck was exquisitely tender and probably turning black and blue.
“Fare please,” said the conductor.
Without lifting her eyes, Marissa fished around in her purse for some change. That was when she saw the blood caked on the back of her right hand. Quickly, she changed the way she was holding her purse and used her left hand to give the money to the man.
When he moved off, Marissa tried to figure out how they had found her. She’d been so careful… Suddenly it dawned on her. They must have been guarding Tieman. It was the only possible explanation.
Her confidence shattered, Marissa began to have second thoughts about having fled the hotel. Perhaps she would have been safer if she had stayed and faced the police. Yet fleeing had become an instinct of late. She felt like a fugitive, and it made her act like one. And to think she’d thought she would be able to outwit her pursuers. Ralph had been right. She never should have gone to New York, let alone San Francisco. He had said she was in serious trouble before she’d visited both cities. Well, it was a lot worse now—for all she knew she’d killed two men.
