Then Ryder heard a loud, feminine giggle come from somewhere to his right. Emerging into the corridor from the stairwell, Ryder saw that the hallway made a sharp turn about fifty feet to his right, just out of sight from where he was standing a moment before. He hurried down the corridor and peered around the bend.
Li and his date were weaving down the hall, his hands all over her, groping at her ample breasts and full derriere. As Ryder watched, Li goosed her in the ass, causing another high-pitched squeal. Li was a pig, a fact for which Ryder gave thanks. This was going to work, he thought.
About halfway down the corridor, Li stopped at a door on the left. He fumbled with his room key for several seconds before the girl finally took it away from him and unlocked the door herself. Pushing it open, she shoved Li in ahead of her, allowing the door to slam shut behind them.
Ryder strode down the hallway and glanced at the door Li had just entered. Number 535. Ryder continued down the hall, then paused to look at the numbers on the doors around him. He pantomimed looking down at his hand, as if to confirm his room number. Shaking his head, he pivoted and headed back the way he’d come. It was unlikely that his act was being observed by anyone, but it was worth doing all the same. Ryder had found himself heading the wrong way down hotel corridors for real enough times to know that it was a very believable mistake.
After heading back down in the elevator, Ryder emerged into the lobby. He made his way to the bar, which was ahead of him approximately fifty yards, in a direct line of sight with the bank of elevators. For the next part of his plan to work, Li had to be alone. That meant Ryder had to wait for the pro to leave. He didn’t anticipate it taking more than an hour at most. There was no way that a man like Li, who hadn’t even been willing to pay for a decent hotel, had bought the girl for the entire night.
Ryder ordered a light beer at the bar—he didn’t want his senses to be dulled by too much alcohol—and sat down at the table nearest the entrance. He was just another out-of-town businessman killing time and spending the night alone. There were a couple of other men in the bar likewise doing a little solitary drinking. He wondered what kind of companies they worked for, given the quality of the accommodations. Maybe they just didn’t know what kind of hotel they were booking. Its address—on Pennsylvania Avenue—was decent enough to fool people. He doubted the hotel got much return business, however.
Ryder nursed his beer for the next half hour, but there was no sign of the girl. He had to admit to a little grudging respect for Li. He’d half assumed the man would have passed out by now. He decided he’d better order another beer, just to avoid making anyone curious.
As he stood at the bar waiting for his drink, SportsCenter came on the TV. The lead story was the Lakers victory in overtime just moments before, a victory that the anchorman called “one of the most exciting basketball games in recent memory.” Ryder just shook his head. It was bad enough that he was stuck in this fleabag hotel, tracking a fat, washed-up spy. Now he’d missed the best game of the season. He was more determined than ever to kill Li and go home.
As Ryder was returning from the bar, beer in hand, he spotted the prostitute emerging from the elevator. She strolled across the lobby, headed in the direction of the registration desk. Ryder sat down at this table to watch her. He took a sip of beer as she stopped at the desk and spoke briefly with the clerk who had checked them in. She slipped him something—a payoff, presumably—and headed for the exit. Ryder glanced around the bar, confirmed that no one was watching him and poured half his beer into the base of a fake tree next to his table. He didn’t want to leave a full beer behind, which might make someone curious as to where he’d gone. He put the bottle down on the table and left the bar.
Riding the elevator back up to the fifth floor, Ryder prepared himself for what he was going to do. Killing a man in cold blood was never an easy task, but he had long ago steeled himself against the emotions connected to the act. He had done it enough times before that, although not automatic, it was the next closest thing to it. Like Michael Corleone so famously said, it wasn’t personal, it was just business. Ryder had a job to do and he planned to do it; quickly, efficiently and without hesitation.
Arriving at the fifth floor, Ryder walked down the corridor to Room 535. He had been in the hotel long enough and was anxious to finish the job and get the hell out of there.
Ryder unzipped the duffel bag, then knocked sharply on the door, two staccato beats. Ryder hoped the man hadn’t sunk into postcoital oblivion. Apparently not, as he heard a fumbling with the door’s safety catch. “Who there, please?” asked the voice on the other side of the door.
“Hotel security,” Ryder answered. “Please open the door, sir.”
The door opened to reveal Li Jinping standing there in his underwear, a dingy white T-shirt stretched tight over his ample belly. Li blinked at Ryder, bleary-eyed and obviously concerned. “What is a matter, please?”
“Please step back, sir. I need to check the room.”
Li hesitated before taking a step backward, allowing Ryder to enter. He did so, and closed the door behind him.
“You’re Mr. Li, right?”
“Yes, I am Li.”
Ryder already knew who he was, but he figured it couldn’t hurt to check. He reached his hand into the duffel bag and wrapped his fingers around the grip of the .22 semiautomatic pistol. He was about to whip it out of the bag when a soft knock sounded on the door at his back.
Ryder jerked his hand out of the bag with a start. Shit. Was it the real hotel security? Or the cops? Who else would be knocking on the door in the middle of the night? He doubted the hotel had room service. Ryder had to decide how he wanted to play it, and fast. So far he hadn’t done anything too incriminating. But he also couldn’t allow any official connection to be made between him and Li.
Another knock sounded on the door. Louder this time. Ryder put his hand back in the bag and felt for the pistol again. He was tired of pussyfooting around with this job. If drastic action needed to be taken, he was going to take it. One way or another, this was going to end tonight.
“Li, honey?” A muffled voice came from the hallway. “It’s me, Candy. I forgot my phone.”
Ryder cursed his luck. It was the prostitute, back just in time to screw up everything. There was no way he could let her see him with Li. Not unless he wanted to kill her, too. He would if he had to, but that would make what he had planned almost impossible to pull off. He had to think of some other way around it.
He turned to Li and locked eyes with him. “Listen to me carefully. We know you had a prostitute here in your room with you. Is that her at the door?”
Li nodded, his eyes wide. “Yes, I have girl. But I’m diplomat. You can no arrest—”
“Shut up and listen to me. I’m going to step into the bathroom. You’re going to get rid of the whore as quickly as possible. Do you understand?” Li nodded. “We don’t want to embarrass the hotel any more than has already happened. So just get rid of her and I’ll handle everything else. Understand?” Another nod.
None of it made much sense, but Ryder wasn’t giving him time to think. Li was scared and smashed and hardly thinking his best. Ryder was counting on that to make him compliant with his demands.
The knocking was louder now. “Li? Are you asleep, sweetie? I really need my phone.”
“Where’s her phone?” Ryder asked. Li just shrugged. Ryder walked over the bed and looked around. There was a bottle of Jim Beam and a glass on the nightstand. Li’s clothes were tossed in a heap on the chair next to the bed. The phone could be anywhere.
With Li standing there uselessly, Ryder rushed past him into the bathroom and flipped on the light. There. A pink cell phone was sitting on the counter next to the dirty water glass and no-name shampoo. Ryder grabbed it and returned to Li.