He walked along the deserted hallway, which was covered with blue carpeting. There were many rooms. How would he find her? He walked to the end of the hall and around the corner to his right. There was a maid's cart. The door to room 1026 was open. He could hear the electric hum of a vacuum cleaner. He peered in the room. The maid had her back to him. She was vacuuming the floor next to the bed.
Tariq entered and closed the door. He approached her from behind, bringing his right arm around her neck. She released the handle of the vacuum cleaner, and tried to free herself. He was squeezing with all of his strength and she was flailing, trying to kick him and gouge his eyes. The maid was thin, fine-boned and slender but very strong. The motor of the vacuum was still humming. He clamped his arm tighter around her neck and lifted her off the ground. When she stopped moving he laid her on the floor and turned off the vacuum cleaner. She was Asian and young. He found the master key, a white plastic card, in the pocket of her apron. He dragged her into the bathroom, bent with his knees and lifted her into the tub and closed the shower curtain.
Tariq opened the hotel room door. He glanced in one direction and then the other. The hall was deserted. He rolled the maid's cart around the next corner and pushed it against the wall, and retraced his steps, going back to the first room next to the elevators to begin his search. He tapped on the door with the knuckles of his right hand. He listened but he could not hear a sound. He slid the plastic card in the lock and opened the door.
Karen heard a knock on the door and heard a card slide in the lock. She had forgotten to use the safety bar. The door opened and a maid came in carrying a pile of towels. She was Asian and slightly built and said excuse me.
Karen took the towels and thanked her.
When she walked out of the room fifteen minutes later the maid's cart was in the hall to her right, a couple rooms away. Karen wheeled her new suitcase down the hall to the elevator. She pressed the button and waited. She turned and saw someone, a man, come out of the room next to hers. He glanced her way and started toward her. Karen got in the elevator and took it down to the lobby. She carried her bag down the stairs to the street level and wheeled it through the revolving brass door to Walton Street.
The doorman hailed her a cab. He picked up her suitcase and put it in the deep trunk of the taxi.
Tariq walked out of the room and glanced to his left and saw Karen Delaney at the end of the hall. Seeing her surprised him. Again, she was so close. And again, she stepped into an elevator and was gone. He ran to the elevator bank and pushed the button, glancing at his watch, impatient as always, pressing the button again. He had to wait twelve seconds for the next elevator and rode down to the lobby.
He scanned the reception area and the concierge desk, but he did not see her. He ran down the stairs and pushed through the revolving door, and saw a glimpse of Karen Delaney in the right rear window of a yellow 2006 Mercury Marquis taxi driving away. He ran after the taxi all the way to Michigan Avenue and watched the vehicle turn left and accelerate, blending in with the traffic.
Out of the corner of his eye Tariq could see an automobile drive up next to him, coming to a stop. The passenger window was down, Ricky leaning across the front seat.
"I've got a better idea, why don't you get in. Unless you think you can catch her," Ricky said, smiling at him.
Chapter Thirty-six
Karen stood at the picture window that extended the length of the living room and looked out at the Chicago skyline. She could see the Hancock building and Water Tower Place and the Affinia Hotel, and below her she saw the Water Works and Saks and Neiman Marcus on Michigan Avenue. If anyone was following her this move to the Peninsula Hotel would keep them off balance, keep them guessing.
She called Stephanie, her buddy. They'd been close for sixteen years. Stephanie had met a guy named Jerry Hilliker, married him and moved to Chicago. Karen hadn't seen her for six months, although they still talked on the phone every couple of weeks.
"I can't believe you're here," Stephanie said. "What's the occasion?"
"I'm making my run," Karen said. "I'm on my own for the first time in eighteen years."
"How's it feel?"
"Are you kidding?" Karen grinned.
"Judging by the sound of your voice," Stephanie said, "it must be good. Where's Lou?"
Karen said, "I left him in the dust." She looked out the window. There was a cloud drifting through the top of the Hancock building.
"I had a feeling something was wrong, you show up here by yourself."
"There's nothing wrong," Karen said. "Everything's right. I'm free and I can't believe how good it feels."
They agreed to meet at the Tavern on Rush Street at 5:15, Stephanie's suggestion. Karen remembered it, red awnings and sidewalk tables.
Ricky sat in the restaurant off the lobby and watched Karen check in. The black chick from the registration desk took her up to her room on the sixteenth floor. He saw them get on the elevator together. Saw the floor they went to and went up after them. The black chick came out of room 1616 and passed him in the hall. She said, good afternoon. Ricky said, hey, how you doing? He stood outside Karen's room considering his next move. He could knock on the door and when she opened it, go for her. But he had a better idea. Walked to the end of the hall. He liked the look of this hotel, everything all gold and white. Man, it was classy. There was a maid's cart in the hallway to his left. The door to room 1648 was open. The maid, a Latina in a beige uniform, looked at him from inside the room.
Ricky said, "I left my key in the room. Stupid, huh?" He smiled. Be friendly, he told himself.
She smiled back and said, "Sir, it happens all the time. What room are you in?"
"Sixteen sixteen, right down the hall." He took a $20 bill out of his wallet and handed it to her.
"Sir, that's not necessary," the maid said, still smiling.
"Sure it is," Ricky said. He wanted to say, you're a fucking maid you're going to turn down twenty bucks?
She thanked him and followed him down the hall. She slipped her card in the slot and Ricky turned the handle and opened the door a crack.
"Have a nice day, sir," the maid said and walked away.
Oh, he was going to have a nice day, all right. He was going to have a great fucking day. He went in and closed the door. He heard voices, sounded like a TV, glanced down a short entrance- way to the living room. He moved past an open door, and looked into a bedroom. No one was there. He moved to the living room, peeked in. The TV was on, looked like a news channel. There was no sign of Karen. No sign that anyone had been in the place.
He glanced out the big window at the Chicago skyline. He went into the bedroom. Went through the dressing room to the bathroom. He was hoping Karen was in there taking a bath, open the door, "surprise," but she wasn't. He checked the shower and the toilet room. Everything was perfect like the room had never been used. He went back in the dressing room and opened the closet and there it was, the black suitcase. Identical to the one Karen had rolled out of the Drake, and rolled in the Peninsula. He picked it up and put it on the floor. Ricky was so excited he could barely breathe. Here it was, the way out of all his problems. He was thinking he could take the bag downstairs, get in a cab and take off, leave Tariq in his rental car, wondering what the fuck happened.
He unzipped the suitcase and folded back the top. But it wasn't filled with money. It was filled with newspapers. He flipped the suitcase upside down and the papers fell out. He could feel himself getting angry, starting to lose it. There was a built-in dresser behind him. He yanked the drawers out and threw them on the floor. They were empty. He went in the bedroom, looked under the bed. Nothing. Went in the living room, flipped the couch over, getting more pissed off. Where was the fucking money at?