L is for Lawless (Kinsey Millhone 12)

He was silent for a moment. "What about money? Do you need additional funds?"

"I got about forty bucks in cash and a plane ticket home. As long as I'm careful with my credit card, I'll do great. I hope you'll impress Chester with my professionalism. I'm really not interested in getting stiffed for expenses."

"I don't like it."

"I'm not crazy about the situation myself. I just wanted you to know where I was."

"Try not to commit a felony."

"If I knew the Texas statutes, it would help," I said.

8

I went down to the lobby. I cruised the area, trying to get a feel for the place. By day, the red velvet and gilt had all the drab ambiance of an empty movie theater. A white guy in a red uniform pushed a whining vacuum cleaner back and forth across the carpeting. The night clerk was gone and the reception desk was personed by a corps of wholesome-looking navy-suited youths. No one on duty was going to give me any help. Any odd request would be referred to the shift supervisor, the assistant manager, or the manager, all of whom would regard me with the sort of skepticism I deserved. In my quest for information, I was going to have to use ingenuity, which is to say the usual lies and deceit.

Most hotel guests tend to see a facility in terms of their own needs: the concierge's desk, restaurants, the gift shop, rest rooms, public telephones, the bell stand, conference halls, and meeting rooms. In my initial foray, I was looking for the executive offices. I skirted the perimeter and finally pushed through a glass door into a lushly carpeted corridor defined by pale wood paneling and indirect lighting. The offices of various department heads were identified in gleaming brass letters.

In this part of the hotel, there was no attempt to carry out either the medieval or the buckaroo conceit. Since this was a Saturday, the glass-fronted offices of the sales manager and the director of security were dark and the doors locked. Hours of operation were neatly lettered in gold, making it clear I would have free rein until Monday morning at nine. I assumed there were security guards on duty twenty-four hours a day, but I hadn't seen one yet. The sales manager's name was Jillian Brace. The director of security was Burnham J. Pauley. I made a note to myself and continued my swing through the administrative quarters and out a door at the far end of the empty hallway.

I returned to the front desk and waited until one of the desk clerks was free. The kid who approached me was in his mid-twenties: cleanshaven, clear complected, blue eyed, and slightly overweight. According to his name tag, he was Todd Luckenbill. Mr. and Mrs. Luckenbill had made sure his teeth were straight, his manners were impeccable, and his posture was good. No earrings, no jewels in his nose, and no visible tattoos. He said, "Yes, ma'am. May I help you?"

"Well, I hope so, Todd," I said. "I'm passing through Dallas briefly on a family matter, but it happens my boss has been looking for a hotel where we can book a big sales conference next spring. I thought I might recommend this place, but I wasn't sure what sort of group package you offered. I wonder if you could direct me to the sales manager. Is he here today?"

Todd smiled, his tone slightly chiding. "Actually, it's not a 'he.' Jillian Brace is our sales manager, but she doesn't work on weekends. You might try her Monday morning. She's usually here by nine and I'm sure she'd be happy to talk to you."

"Gee, I'd love to do that, but I have a flight out at six. Do you think you could get me her business card? I can always give her a call when I get back to Chicago."

"Sure. If you can wait just a minute, I'll bring you one."

"Thanks. Oh, and one more thing while I'm thinking about it. My boss is concerned about conference security. We had a little problem with one of the big hotels last year, and I know he's reluctant to schedule anything until he's confident about security procedures."

"What kind of business are you in?"

"Investment banking. Very high level stuff."

"You have to talk to Mr. Pauley about that. He's the director of security. You want me to get you his card, too?"

"Sure, that'd be great. I'd really appreciate it, if it's not too much trouble."

"No problem."

While he was off on his mission, I picked up a couple of postcards from a counter display. The glossy photograph on the front showed the claret red lobby with two heralds in livery tooting on horns much longer than their arms. I checked, but they didn't seem to be on the premises this morning. Todd returned moments later with a fistful of the promised business cards. I thanked him and crossed the lobby to an alcove furnished with a mahogany table and two velvet-covered banquettes.