Frequent Traveller (Cathy Dixon #1)

by Pandora Poikilos

  The suite in question was still sealed off as police waded through evidence and red tape before handing it back to the property’s management team who assured all relevant authorities their full co-operation. To prevent any contamination of evidence or hotel associates seeking trophies, only two people outside the investigating team had access to the suite, the property’s General Manager and Front Office Manager. Cathy explored the scene from the pictures of the suite that were given to her. The furniture was spared but the bedroom area was in shreds, right to the point that the mattress had a huge hole in it. It looked like someone had tried to drive a knife through it.

  Rape under any circumstance was a horrid assault no one deserved. Of all people Cathy understood how difficult it was to overcome the experience. Nightmares of her father forcing himself on her and sharing her with his friends still haunted her, even decades after the incidences had occurred. It was after her sixth birthday that he had taught her to "play a game" and so it had gone on for years.

  However, when confronted with rape in a professional environment, personal emotions were a line not necessarily worth crossing and objectivity was a handy tool to possess. From a personal standpoint, the victim required any and all support that could be feasibly administered. But from a business viewpoint, clarification to the media that MoonStar Stockholm and its associates were in no way, shape or form accomplices to the rape was imperative and necessary.

  Cathy had barely closed her door when it was gently opened and she was greeted by the property's Public Relations Manager, Ingrid Hansson. She looked haggard and far beyond her thirty-five years. Ingrid hugged Cathy tightly and gave her a folder as they both sat down. Hard at work, Corporate Legal had compiled detailed information about victim and alleged rapist. Not as an admission of guilt, they were prepared to offer the victim a significant amount of money to compensate her for the "grievous unforeseen circumstances" she had faced at the property.

  Ingrid gazed blankly at the carpet as Cathy flipped through the documents.

  "Is anyone else aware of this?" Cathy asked.

  "No, there are some interns at the Communications Department and I don't trust them. Well, not enough with such information so I made sure everything was sent directly to me. Other than you and I, alongside Mr. Anderson the General Manager and Legal, no one else is aware of such preparations being made."

  Ingrid took a deep breath.

  "Cathy, I don't like this. I can't imagine what she has been through but there are so many questions that need answers and I'm feeling uncomfortable here, out of my element," she motioned to her stomach, her right hand formed a fist.

  Cathy grimaced. "I know Ingrid. I'm having problems with the fact that she might have recognised him and saw an opportunity to make a quick buck. I don't want to believe it and the investigation is not up to us but it's like you said, things are not adding up. For instance, why did it take her two hours to run down? She said she was helping him to his room when it had happened. It takes about ten minutes from the main entrance to his room."

  A long silence fell on both women as they absorbed the significant information regarding the tricky predicament that was presented before them.

  "We'll see if she and her lawyer agree to meet with us, Ingrid. Let's just take it from there. We'll keep the settlement quiet, especially from the media and take it one hurdle at a time. First things first, was Front Office in any way involved in hiring the escort for Morrison?"

  As Cathy watched Ingrid's face pale, she recognized that the hole they had already found themselves in, just got a little deeper.

  "Not this time," came the muffled reply as Cathy looked up sharply.

  "On previous occasions, they had called escort agencies for Morrison and other guests. They've already admitted that some of the agencies gave them 'tokens of appreciation' in the form of cash or dates with their girls. Some of them have had consensual sex or performed sexual acts with these girls. I know it doesn't look good at all."

  All the corporate values in the world could never come up against a man's desire. Of this, Cathy was absolutely sure.

  Ingrid did her best to keep her composure. "Mr. Anderson has suspended the associates involved until this issue blows over, after which a domestic inquiry will be held but it won't guarantee the media not finding out. Our biggest concern beyond them finding out about our associates is that they will also find out which guests have been involved with the girls. It's a tangled web many years in the making, Cathy."

  On the verge of tears, Ingrid covered her face in her palms knowing her bare emotions were safe with the other woman.

  Few associates understood limitations when it came to keeping a guest happy. Some guests were content with an extra towel and others were more than happy with a hotel souvenir. But there were a few who were certain that a request not carried out was a bad review for the hotel and the employee, and used this to their advantage. The shades of grey were apparent, the clarity of black and white were non-existent in a situation like this. What the hotel saw as keeping guests happy, the media would see as support towards sexual exploitation.

  Cathy reached out and squeezed Ingrid's shoulder. "Go home and get some rest, I'll hold the fort for tonight. However the storm blows, we still need to put up our sails and we can't do it without our senses intact. Go on."

  Next morning at about 10:00 a.m. accompanied by Elridge, a legal representative from corporate, Ingrid and Cathy were in the Wisborg Conference Room where they saw yet another shocking piece of the puzzle fall into place.

  In the confusion that had ensued after the girl ran out screaming, the bed sheet she had clutched to herself was found bundled up at the back-office of the check-in counter. Doing their rounds early this morning, Housekeeping had collected the sheet without realising its significance or the evidence it held. A mobile phone was recovered, tucked deep in one of the folds.

  When plugged in to charge and its media played back to locate its owner, a single shocking video, clarified the reality and confusion of the current situation. It showed Morrison arriving at the suite with the girl, both drunk beyond realising where or what they were doing. He fondled her as she giggled and both passed out within minutes of each other on the bed, incapable of any physical activity.

  Almost five minutes elapsed when a male voice called out Morrison's name asking him why he had left his room door open. The figure was seen walking towards the bed and stood still before unzipping his pants and getting on top of the girl, tearing her clothes off. Even as his hands roughly grabbed her breasts, the girl woke up screaming and a struggle ensued. The mobile phone was knocked over from wherever it was balanced and fell on the white sheets but not before revealing the man on top of the girl as he slapped her across the face. It was Morrison’s driver.

  The hotel's delay in submitting the phone was a crucial issue not likely to be ignored by the authorities or the media. Silence descended on the conference room. The credibility of one woman, the innocence of one man and the monstrosity of another were all laid out in crystal clear clarity in front of them. No more grey areas.

  Elridge was the first person to speak. "We could make an anonymous tip and deliver it to the police. That won't implicate us and allow us to retain credibility with our guests at the same time."

  "Enough Eldrige. We can't keep literally covering our dirty linen at the expense of guest satisfaction. Right now, it's our credibility at stake. I say go public with it, if anything, we'll need the brownie points with the media when they find out it is our associates who have been supplying escorts to guests. We need public support, not another cover up."

  EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND

  March 2008

  If one were to set aside all other trades for just a moment, it must be noted that Edinburgh is home to some of the greatest literary creations and minds the world has ever seen. The first Harry Potter book was conceived in an Edinburgh coffee shop by JK Rowling. It was a recent addition to the long line of famous authors from Edinburgh
which include Sir Arthur Conan Doyle who created Sherlock Holmes; Adam Smith who changed economic mindsets in The Wealth of Nations; Robert Louis Stevenson who gave Long John Silver his mean streak when he conceived Treasure Island and wrote The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde; Irvine Welsh who wrote Trainspotting; Ian Rankin who conceived the mystery thrillers of Inspector Rebus and Sir Walter Scott who was the great mind behind Ivanhoe. Edinburgh is also the hometown to Sir Sean Connery who lent his talents to the first onscreen James Bond.

  If such creativity did not highlight Edinburgh's rich background, the city is also known for its numerous contributions towards science and engineering. The mind behind the most used gadget, the telephone, Alexander Graham Bell was born and educated at Edinburgh. Other notable persons of interest include Nobel Laureate Charles Darwin who discovered natural selection and John Napier who is known to many as the “Father of Logarithms”. Not to mention, medical researchers Joseph Lister and James Simpson. The former made hospital surgeries safer with the creation of carbolic acid as antiseptic while the latter created anaesthetic in his bid to make surgeries less painful. James Young made his fortune by selling paraffin as lighting oil, James Hutton is still regarded as the "Father of Geology" and James Clerk Maxwell is said to be the mind behind the theory of electromagnetism. All of these great minds came from Edinburgh.

  In the Darwin waiting room adjacent to the lobby, Cathy looked up at the showcased wall of fame. It was inspiring yet strange that one city had produced that many great minds over the course of a few decades. She mused at the enormity of the accomplishments. Raised voices at the check-in counter of MoonStar Edinburgh made the red head turn. She was instinctively curious to find out the source of the commotion.

  "Are you mad? Why do I have to pay a deposit?! I've already paid for my room in full."

  The woman's voice was at a shrill pitch. It was obvious that the associate at the check-in counter found it difficult to explain to the female guest that a refundable deposit was required in the event anything from the room went missing, damaged or the items at the mini-bar were utilised. Cathy saw that the associate was being assisted by his supervisor and continued on her way to the Fleming Hall where Banquet was getting all geared up for the biggest event this property had ever seen.

  It never ceased to amaze Cathy that so many guests chose to ignore the brief information in the hotel brochure, their welcome kit or on their room key card. A little more attention and they could have spared themselves the shouting match they insisted on having at the check-in counter.

  Unique for more reasons than one, MoonStar Edinburgh spread over more than forty thousand acres. It was the only hotel property in the world that housed two colonial manors restored from the late sixteenth century. These functioned as a bed and breakfast with twenty rooms each, sporting a Victorian theme. A more recent construction was added in 1972, this included three hundred rooms in a twenty-one storey building, fourteen one bedroom villas, a massive dining hall which could accommodate one thousand people and a small chapel. If one were to walk or take a buggy ride from one corner of the property to the other, it was easy to become enraptured by the elements of majestic heritage that were obvious in all the buildings.

  For the first time in its twenty-eight years of operations the entire property was closed down for one event, a wedding. On her way back from one of the London properties, Cathy had been asked by the hotel's Public Relations Manager to stop over as an observer. If the wedding went off without any major glitches, it became a feather in MoonStar's cap and would generate long term publicity. If on the other hand it failed, plenty of damage control would be needed for current guests and future ones which required Cathy's presence anyway. As it was, because of this wedding, guests with previous reservations on the same dates were refunded or their trips postponed with big discounts. Neither of which was an easy feat to accomplish.

  Two days before, when Cathy arrived, she noted obvious tensions running high among the wedding troupe and the associates at MoonStar Edinburgh. All rooms of every category were fully booked. The wedding was a five day event with the first day being the welcome dinner. This would be followed by the wedding rehearsal on day two. Stag night and a hen party would be on day three then the wedding ceremony followed by a dinner and a wedding high tea on the last day. At least one hundred part-timers had been recruited to join forces with the property's service team of three hundred associates.

  Painstaking efforts had been made by the Events Department in the past eight months. They had planned everything down to the last second when the confetti balloons were set to burst. But even with the best laid plans, it was always better to make room for disasters. As Cathy neared the Fleming Hall, she heard a piercing scream and the loud clutter of cutlery shattering on the wooden floor. She quickened her pace and stepped in to see the bride-to-be Angela, flinging cutlery carts to the floor.

  A few Banquet associates were lined up in front of her and watched while a few tried to hide their amusement. The Banquet Manager, Ronald did his best to pacify her. After the irate bride stomped off, he barked at his junior associates to pick up the cutlery and have each piece wiped again. Cathy approached him with a raised eyebrow. Laughing heartily by the time Cathy got to him, she was not sure if it was a pure funny tickle or the stress from the past few days had finally gotten to him.

  He acknowledged her with a nod.

  "She had wanted patterned cutlery for the wedding day dinner. These were plain. I was trying to explain to her that these are for tomorrow's welcome dinner ... she wasn't listening, I guess." He shrugged his shoulders as Cathy smiled.

  "I'm free for the night so tell me what to do," she said.

  "We need to place the cutlery on the tables and then fold the napkins. Once the tables, chair covers, centre pieces and wall flowers are ready, we'll need to work our string magic again just to make sure nothing was moved ... you know, the usual."

  "Right, I'll grab a cutlery tray and get to work," Cathy said as she tied her hair back and put on an apron.

  To maintain true hotelier spirit, this was what you had to do. Irrelevant of rank or experience, you learnt from the bottom. When it got to peak periods, it meant all hands on deck. If unsure, you asked but there was no such thing as not doing unless you wished to have your food spat on in the kitchen before it was served to you.

  In a far corner, she saw a few Banquet associates already working their 'string magic'. With more than three hundred tables to go, it would definitely be a long night. What the guests saw as tables and chairs neatly in a row was actually the result of hours of measuring and adjusting. If the floor did not have markers, a string was used to measure the distances from each table to ensure equal and adequate space for guests to move around. Details, details and more details. Even if guests were not interested, the hotel's ability to churn out a masterpiece rested on how much time and effort was spent on details. The finer the masterpiece, the happier the guest and higher the revenue. It was pure simple logic at the end of the day.

  As the hours wore on, Cathy heard some of the servers talking about Angela. She glanced at Ronald convinced he could hear it too.

  "I can only stop what I can see Cat," he said acknowledging her stare. "If they wipe her spoons with their spit without anyone spotting it, she should know better than to charge around like a bull. But then again at least she didn't want silver horses like the other couple."

  Cathy laughed. The details of that disastrous wedding reached all of the MoonStar properties including corporate. The irate couple publicly announced that they had cancelled their lavish $100,000 wedding when the hotel refused to spray-paint horses for the bridal carriage.

  Once the Fleming Hall was decorated and could have passed a royal inspection, Cathy snapped a few photographs with her digital camera for her personal collection and headed off to bed. Even as she neared the elevator to her room, she heard the quickened footsteps behind her and knew it was time for another envelope and yet another target.<
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  "Ms. Dixon, this envelope just arrived for you," said a Front Office associate as he handed her a brown sealed envelope.

  She thanked him and later emptied the contents of the envelope on her bed. She had plenty of time for this target. He was one of the wedding guests. She would have more than a week to get to know him as he was staying at the property after the wedding.

  The next morning as Cathy walked across the main lobby to get to the breakfast buffet, she heard Angela's voice ringing out in the lobby.

  "Stop bloody smoking so much!" she screamed at her husband-to-be Greg who had conveniently found a large pillar to hide behind. While some of the hotel associates and guests looked on sympathetically, others moved along with an amused smile whilst pretending to see nothing. The accosted man gently rubbed her shoulders while whispering in her ear. Whatever he said seemed to calm Angela who was soon laughing again as she made her way to a spa appointment. Finally, Greg could light his cigarette in peace.

  Both were trust-fund babies who had obviously never seen a hard day's work in their lives. High school sweethearts who had only just graduated from their respective universities, the wedding was a lavish gift from both their families. When the MoonStar Edinburgh sales team had been approached by the couples’ parents the year before, it was made clear they would not be involved in the planning of the wedding. All wedding preparations would be left to the couple, Angela and Greg. No expense would be spared, they promised. This was evident with a running bill of more than $320,000 and counting.