by Amy Cross
He headed to the maintenance shed at the back of the building, which was where the main service panels were located. Since he was running a by-the-hour schedule, he had no plans to work fast; instead, he was going to meander through the morning, checking a few pipes and pulling a few bits and pieces apart before taking a nice long lunch break. His hourly rates were high, and he was going to make sure he made a killing on this job.
As he'd expected, the Heights had an ancient boiler that looked like it should have gone out of service years ago. That, he decided, would need immediate replacement, as would many of the pipes running through into the main building. Switching the boiler off, he began to flood the system with high pressure gas in order to clear the water. He allowed himself a little grin as he thought of all the guests waking up to colder showers than usual. Then again, anyone coming to stay at the Heights was an idiot anyway, so he had no sympathy.
As he got to work, he didn't notice a thin line of blood starting to leak through from the edge of one of the pipes.
Laura
Today
"A complete refurbishment?" Edward asks, staring at the single-page memo. "Do you have any idea how much that would cost?"
"I've priced it out on the back page," I reply, taking a deep breath. I was up early today, working on a proposal to bring the Heights bang up to date. Although I know it's going to be a costly program, I figure the place needs a major overhaul, and besides, the Bannisters are reputed to have more than enough money to undertake this project several times over. "I know it's a significant capital investment," I continue, "but if you look at the basic ideas, I think you'll see that there's a lot of potential around here that isn't being realized. The Heights can be fabulous, but only if the right changes are made. There are also some genuine problems that need fixing as soon as possible. The situation's only going to get -"
Suddenly there's a loud banging sound from above, causing us both to look up at the thick metal pipes that run across the ceiling of the office.
"That's the other thing," I continue. "I've arranged for a plumber to fix the water and the piping. Guests were complaining about a lack of hot water. The guy arrived half an hour ago and he's already started work. Again, it's going to be costly, but have you seen the hotel's online reviews? We're getting slaughtered because of the lack of basic amenities. It's costing you a lot of business, Mr. Bannister, and I'm convinced that with a combination of attention to detail and a social media campaign -"
"Social media campaign?" Edward replies, raising an eyebrow. The words 'social media' sound strange and unnatural coming from his lips; it's about as incongruous as asking a caveman to talk about nuclear power, and I can see immediately that Edward has no interest in, or knowledge of, modern marketing. "Online reviews?" he continues, with a look of disdain that suggests there's a bad taste in his mouth. "Do people do that? I'm not sure whether we -"
Again, the pipes interrupt; it sounds as if someone is dismantling the entire building, and Edward's frown makes it clear that he isn't impressed.
"I know it seems disruptive," I continue, having to raise my voice in order to be heard over all the noise, "but it's positive disruption! You hired me to make a difference, Mr. Bannister, and that's what I'm doing. If you don't put some real changes into motion, you're going to run the hotel into the ground". I pause for a moment, wondering how far to push my point. "I looked at the numbers," I add after a moment. "You've had a consistent 5% decline year on year since 2005. That's reversible, but only if you take steps to deal with the problems".
We sit in silence for a moment.
"Well," Edward says eventually, still frowning as he studies the proposals. "At least the banging's stopped".
Suddenly there's a distant scream.
"What the hell was that?" he adds, turning to look over at the window.
"Probably someone trying to take a hot shower," I reply. "It's little things like this that are ruining the hotel's reputation and causing it to lose customers". I pause, wondering how direct and critical I dare to be; finally, I decide to just say what I think. "This is the twenty-first century, and in some respects you're still running a twentieth century operation. Any customer who comes to stay here is going to notice all the problems I've highlighted". I pause for a moment, feeling as if I'm on the brink of either a great victory or a crushing defeat. "Do you think £15m is achievable as a budget?" I add eventually.
"The money's not a problem," Edward says with a sigh. "Fine, Ms. Kingston. I hired you to bring in some changes, and I think your plan is probably a good one if the -" Suddenly we both notice something dripping down onto his desk. We look up to see a kind of dark red liquid slowly seeping out through one of the joins in the plumbing, spattering Edward's paperwork. "What the hell's going on in this place?" he asks after a moment.
"Disruption," I reply. "Like I said, short-term, controlled disruption is better than long-term, uncontrolled disruption".
"Is this something they taught you in London?" Edward replies skeptically, moving items to the side of his desk as the dripping continues.
"The alternative to disruption is drift," I continue, feeling as if I'm on more solid ground now that I can use some of the theory I learned at college. "The Heights is drifting, Mr. Bannister. It's getting along, it's attracting a few guests each year, but it needs new momentum if it's going to keep from coasting to a halt. Tell me, what percentage of your visitors are repeat guests?"
"I have no idea," Edward replies.
"Less than five per cent," I tell him. "That's pretty appalling, but it's something that can be fixed. I know what I'm doing. I know how to sort things out around here".
"With social media?" Edward asks. "With disruption?"
I open my mouth to reply that it's basic common sense, but at the last moment I decide to keep that particular thought to myself. I'm not sure whether Edward has much of a sense of humor, so I figure I'd better keep the smart comments to myself. As I watch him rearrange the items on his desk, I notice that he has a small framed photo of a beautiful, blonde-haired woman. Even before I saw him having sex with Rachel last night, I'd assumed that a man like Edward has no time for a family, but now I can't help but wonder if perhaps I'd misjudged him.
"Is that your wife?" I ask.
"What?" Edward seems confused for a moment, before grabbing the photo and tilting it flat against the desk. "No. I don't -" He looks up, clearly annoyed as more red liquid begins to dribble down from the pipes. "Is this part of your so-called short-term disruption, Ms. Kingston, or do we have an actual problem?"
"Maybe I should go and check it out," I say, getting up from my chair just as there's a knock at the door.
"We've got a problem," says Rachel Harvey, bursting into the room with a worried look on her face.
"We've already ascertained that," Edward replies, his calm voice hiding a sliver of irritation. "Don't worry, though. The blood leaking from the pipes is all part of Ms. Kingston's plan to modernize the hotel. It's positive disruptive. Isn't that right, Ms. Kingston?"
"You need to come and see," Rachel continues. "They've found something hidden in one of the air vents. They're not certain, but they think..."
There's an awkward pause as Rachel seems unable or unwilling to complete the sentence.
"What do they think?" Edward asks eventually, clearly a little exasperated. "And who are they anyway?"
"It's the plumbers who came in to fix the pipes," Rachel continues. "They think they've found a body. They think maybe they've found Elizabeth's body in the pipes".
Elizabeth
Five years ago
"Are you serious?" Staring at the ring, I try to work out whether this means what I think it means. "Luke? Are you... Do you..."
"Do I want you to marry me?" he replies, as we stand on our balcony overlooking the sparkling blue sea. "Yeah, I do. I guess..." He gets down on one knee and stares up at me with that same smile that first caught my attention a few months ago. "Let me do this properly," he
says under his breath, before clearing his throat. "Elizabeth Morgan, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
I open my mouth to reply, but no words come out.
"I know it's kind of sudden," he continues, "and I know we've only been seeing each other for a little while, but still, I know how I feel about you and I'm hoping..." He takes a deep breath, and it's clear that he's nervous. "I'm hoping you feel the same way about me," he adds, "and I'm hoping that you'll consent to becoming my wife".
I bite my bottom lip. The truth is, while this definitely feels like it's come too early, there's a part of me that really wants to marry him. Life has always been so hard, and marrying Luke would make things a thousand times easier. Plus, I love him, I really do! I mean, I think so. He's hot and he's funny and he's smart and...
"You don't have to answer right away," he continues. "I know this is a big decision, and I wouldn't want you to rush it. Will you at least give it some thought?"
"I need a few days," I tell him. "I need to..." I pause. What do I need to do? For one thing, I need to decide whether this is what I really want with my life. Is it fair to Luke, and to me, if I accept his proposal despite having some deep-rooted doubts? I want to believe that we can iron out any problems along the way, but at the same time I'm worried that I don't know this man well enough yet. "Give me twenty-four hours," I say eventually. "Just give me a day and I'll have an answer for you".
Is it possible? Is life going to start being easy at last?
Laura
Today
The area around the side of the hotel is buzzing with police, while a group of staff and concerned guests has gathered behind a cordon. All activity at the hotel ground to a halt as soon as word got out that a dead body had been discovered, and the police have sectioned off large areas of the building and grounds. To top things off, it's an unseasonably gray day, with dark clouds and a high wind threatening rain at any moment.
"Anything?" asks a familiar voice, sidling up behind me.
Turning, I find Cole standing next to me.
"The plumber found something," I reply. "I guess whatever it was, it had been blocking the system for a while, and..." I watch as a couple of detectives came out of the maintenance shed, deep in discussion. "He started taking apart a section of piping," I continue, "and that's when it all came out. Some of it got pumped through the rest of the building, though. It ended up coming down on Edward Bannister's desk, and in some of the bathrooms".
"Someone said it might be Elizabeth," Cole replies, as a police officer carries a large gray bag into the shed. "Have they identified the body yet?"
I shake my head.
"It's not her," Cole continues. "From the day she left, there were people saying she'd been murdered, but she was smart enough to..." He pauses for a moment. "She panicked and left, that's all. No-one killed her. These assholes might be out of control, but she'd never have let them get to her. Not like this".
"Why would anyone want to kill her?" I ask.
"Have you met the Bannisters?" Cole replies bitterly. "They're constantly at one another's throats. It's a miracle they haven't all been chopped up and..." His voices trailed off for a moment. "You know what I mean. You take money and power, you stir it around long enough in a big old melting pot, and you end up with madness. It never used to bother me so much, 'cause they were just knocking chunks out of each other, but Elizabeth... she didn't deserve to suffer". He pauses again. "Whoever ended up in those pipes, it wasn't her. There's no way".
"You're probably right," I suggest meekly, even though I know it's a forlorn hope. "Great," I mutter, "my first day on the job, and I've already got police all over the place, flushing out a corpse while blood rains down inside the building. How do you think my initial performance evaluation is gonna go?" Watching as a couple of forensic examiners come out of the shed, I suddenly realize that the thought of a dead body being stuffed into the pipes is too horrible to comprehend. In fact, I'm starting to wonder whether I can handle this place at all. It seems as if the Heights is full of surprises, and I'm looking for something a little calmer.
"It's not your fault," Cole says. "There's only one person who's responsible for any of this".
"Who?" I ask.
Before Cole can answer, Edward Bannister emerges from the maintenance shed with a shocked look on his face. It's clear that whatever he saw in there, it was enough to shake him to his core, and a couple of police detectives seem to be waiting for him to regather his composure before they can talk to him. I can't help but feel a little sympathy for the guy; as manager of the Heights, he's clearly having to take charge of the situation, but the color seems to have entirely drained from his face.
"I hope they drag him away in handcuffs," Cole sneers.
"You don't think Edward killed someone, do you?" I reply, turning to him. "Seriously?"
"The guy's a fucking asshole?" Cole replies. "Whatever else happens, this whole place would be much better off if he was gone".
"Everyone inside now!" Edward shouts, storming over to the assembled crowd. "I'm sorry," he continues, moderating his tone of voice a little as he turns to a small group of guests who are watching the scene, "I'm afraid I need to speak to all members of staff immediately in the conference room. I hope our valued guests will understand that this has been a very shocking day, and we need to discuss where we go from here".
"I'll take the guests into the bar," Rachel says quickly. "If everyone would like to follow me, we'll provide complimentary drinks".
I open my mouth to intervene, but by then it's too late and Rachel is already leading a gaggle of confused-looking guests back into the building, leaving a simmering Edward Bannister standing and facing the assembled members of staff.
"I did suggest we should offer entertainment for the guests," I tell Cole. "I was thinking more along the lines of a cabaret, but -"
"We might as well do this out here," Edward says, as a police officer carries a gray bag out of the maintenance shed and sets it down next to Edward's feet. "I'm not entirely sure what's been happening here," Edward continues, clearly struggling to contain his anger, "but I can assure you that I'm going to get to the bottom of it. I'm sure you all know me well enough to realize that something like this won't simply be allowed to slide".
Reaching down, he picks up the gray bag and unzips the opening, before turning it upside down and letting a large mass of bloody, pulpy skin and bones drop to the ground. There's an audible gasp from many of the staff-members, some of whom are visibly shocked by the sight.
"So?" Edward asks, kicking the corpse. "Who did this?"
Stunned by the theatrical display, I take a moment to realize that the body on the ground can't possibly belong to Elizabeth Bannister. In fact, it clearly isn't human at all. Taking a deep breath, and feeling a sense of relief wash over me, I realize it's some kind of animal, with matted fur tangled up in the bones and blood.
"Rats," Edward says after a moment. "The police say there are close to fifty here, and probably as many again distributed throughout the system. Someone, and I'm quite sure it's one of you, has placed a huge number of freshly killed rats in the hotel's plumbing and air conditioning systems. I hope you're pleased with yourself for having caused such a horrific scene. I also hope you're satisfied with this". Reaching down, he pushes his fingers into the bloody mess and pulls out a small, bloodied ring. "This ring belonged to Elizabeth Bannister. It was one of the few things we still had of hers, and until the other day it was safely stored in my brother's room. Someone obviously stole it and placed it with the dead rats as some kind of sick joke".
I turn to Cole, but I can immediately see from the look in his eyes that he's as shocked as anyone.
"I already have a few suspicions regarding the identity of the person behind this little prank," Edward continues. "The police are also quite interested to learn who has been wasting their time in such a gruesome manner. I hope you'll understand that a full investigation is going to be carried out into thi
s little stunt, and the offending party will be treated with the disgust and fury that they so richly deserve". He pauses as he surveys the staff, and it seems as if he's taking a moment to look each of us in the eye. "Get back to work," he says eventually, with a tone of disgust in his voice. "We've already faced enough disruption today. Let's see if we can salvage at least some goodwill from our remaining guests".
As the crowd disperses, I turn to Cole and wait for him to say something.
"Why would someone do this?" I ask eventually.
"To force the issue," Cole replies sadly. "To remind everyone that it's not over".
"What's not over?"
"A woman disappeared," Cole says, with a little more passion in his voice. "A good woman. A woman who deserved a lot better than this stinking family. I guess someone has their own theories about what happened to her, and I suppose this particular someone doesn't want Elizabeth's disappearance to be forgotten". He pauses for a moment. "And before you even begin to think it," he adds, turning and walking back to the hotel, "this had nothing to do with me".
Left standing alone, I glance over and watch as a police officer gathers up the pile of dead rats. A little further away, Edward is also observing the scene. After a moment, however, Edward turns and makes his way back into the building, leaving me to stand in the slowly developing rain shower and wonder quite what else might be unearthed as the Heights is modernized.
Elizabeth
Five years ago
"Welcome to the family," Victor says, reaching out and giving me a huge hug. "I'm sure you'll be very happy here at the Heights!"
