The Case of the Guest Who Stayed Over (The M.O.D. Files Book 1)
Page 21
There were no signs of anything out of the ordinary about the room. Detective Marino had removed his man that had been stationed here, yet the room remained off limits to guests for at least the remainder of the week. The detective had said that we should be able to sell it again after that.
I noticed, as we clustered tightly together in the hallway outside the room, that our tour group had gained a new member. Anthony – one of the guest delivery runners from housekeeping – had joined us.
With everyone ready and waiting, eagerly anticipating what would be a story that actually took place during their time at the Lanigan; I began the tale of that fateful day last week.
I explained what I had been doing when I was contacted, what I saw, and a few bits of my conversations with Detective Marino, though nothing that divulged anything I thought might compromise the case in any way, though it didn’t appear at this point that there was much of a case to compromise.
I finished my spiel with a macabre message that this murder might yet be another to add to the ever-growing list of unsolved crimes that had occurred throughout the Lanigan’s long history.
On the way back to the service elevator, Anthony from housekeeping caught up with me, taking my arm to pull me aside. “Mr. Haze,” he whispered in a slightly panicked tone. It was a tone I’d heard from Anthony before, typically when he had mixed up a guest delivery or forgotten about something important, so I braced myself for what I knew was coming.
“I forgot to tell you something.”
No surprise there, I wanted to say.
“When you were talking about the dead guy, it made me remember. We still got his clothes…his dry cleaning…from the other day. He never picked them up after I delivered them Friday morning, so the room attendant brought them back up to valet laundry.”
I frowned, not understanding at first.
“Anthony,” I said, “you mean he didn’t open the door when you delivered them? What time was it?
Anthony shrugged, “I don’t know…around one or two that morning maybe.”
“What did you do with them?” I asked.
I could tell Anthony was getting nervous at the fact that he was going to have to own up to doing something stupid.
“Well,” he said nervously, “sometimes at that time of morning, guests don’t always open the door. You know, they’re in the bathroom or busy, uh…you know…doing something. So sometimes if they don’t answer, I just hang the stuff on the door handle. I mean, he’d just called for it, so I figured he’d get around to answering the door when he was ready, so I hung the stuff on the door handle for him. I was behind on my calls and I couldn’t wait around, plus there was a privacy sign up, so I put it there and left.”
His statement that Doddsman had never claimed his dry cleaning hit me like a load of bricks. I still couldn’t quite process what its implications were though. I found that the nagging tick in the back of my brain had suddenly re-emerged, and it seemed to have something to do with Doddsman’s laundry.
“I’m so sorry I forgot to tell you. I meant to tell you that morning, and well, I guess it just kind of slipped my mind,” Anthony babbled on. “I found his dry cleaning up there in the valet laundry department in back of some other guest laundry tonight when I got in, but then I got busy with guest calls you know, with the gamers being in house and all it’s just been so busy, and I didn’t even think about the clothes again until I came down here for the tour and you were talking about the Doddsman guy.”
“Okay, Anthony,” I said, stopping his rambling, “I got it. Thanks.”
“I hope I’m not in trouble,” he gazed at me, the concern evident. “I’m not, am I?”
Whether Anthony was going to face disciplinary action for his poor decision was going to be up to old “Jolly Rodgers” and Marian, the housekeeping department head. I was busy trying to think of how this new information would impact the case and how what Anthony had just told me fit into the puzzle that I’d been trying to put together in my head.
“Uh, I’m not…I’m not really sure,” I said absentmindedly.
“I hope not,” he said softly.
“We’ll deal with it later,” I told him.
I hurried to catch up with the group who had moved on as I talked with Anthony.
I gathered everyone in the service elevator back landing.
“This concludes the first annual Lanigan Halloween tour,” I said quickly. “I want to thank you all for coming, and I hope you enjoyed a bit of horrific history from our fine hotel.”
There was a soft round of applause from all in the group.
I had planned on taking them up to the old owner’s suite for a made up story about a previous owner’s wife who had jumped to her death after the loss of a child. However, since Tommy was along, I was already somewhat uncertain about going back up there, fearing that it might unleash some less than fond memories for him; and now that Anthony had told me about Doddsman’s dry cleaning, I knew that I was going to have difficulty concentrating on anything but how this revelation might affect the case.
In a way, cutting the tour short was fine with me since it left me some fresh material for next year’s tour.
As people began filtering back to their respective work areas, I asked Anthony to bring the Doddsman clothes down to my office. I then accompanied Kristen and Tommy in a service elevator back down to the lobby level.
I was staring at the elevator’s shining stainless steel floor, deep in thought when Kristen asked, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled, looking up and giving the two a quick smile as I continued trying to process what I’d just been told. We stood in silence as the elevator slowed to a stop, the floor arrival bell dinged, and the doors slid open. We stepped out and headed for the front desk.
“It was a good tour,” Tommy made an attempt to get the conversation going.
“Yeah,” Kristen jumped in. “I thought it went really well.”
“Me too,” I nodded. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“It was pretty cool,” Tommy said enthusiastically. “I never really thought about how many interesting stories there would be in a hotel.”
“There’s certainly no lack of intrigue in this place,” I agreed.
We soon found ourselves back at the front desk.
“Why don’t you stop by the cafeteria on your way out and see Habeebee for some food to take to your mom,” I told Tommy.
“Thanks,” he nodded. “I’d really appreciate that.”
“I’m sure he’ll be more than accommodating,” I chuckled.
“No doubt,” Tommy laughed. “Glad my mom likes lamb chops too.”
“Robert,” Kristen broke in, “can I have a word with you?”
“Sure,” I said. “Tommy, if you’ll excuse us for a minute.”
He nodded, smiling and turning to inspect the lobby while giving us some privacy.
Kristen guided me several feet away and spoke softly. “Would you mind if I took tomorrow night off?” she asked.
The request caught me slightly off guard, but it wasn’t a big deal. “That’d be alright I guess. I think I can hold down the fort by myself. More cat issues?” I guessed.
Her cheeks reddened slightly, and she averted her eyes as she answered, “Tommy asked me out after work.”
This caught me more off guard than the request for the night off did; although in hindsight, I guess it shouldn’t have.
“Oh…I see. Job well done there, Cat Woman.”
She giggled and pushed me playfully.
“Sure, go on, enjoy yourself. Live it up on a fine late-fall day in Chicago,” I grinned devilishly.
“For your information, it’s supposed to be sunny and 50 degrees tomorrow, so there. He wants to take me out for breakfast and then for a walk in Grant Park.”
“Sounds lovely,” I bowed. “Enjoy your date, and I’ll be more than happy to cover for you tomorrow evening so that you don’t have to rush right home to sleep.”
I had to admit, I was a bit jealous, but I was happy for the two; plus, I had bigger fish to fry.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Anthony approaching with Mr. Doddsman’s clothes.
I stepped over to where Kristen and Tommy were talking.
“I have to take care of a few matters,” I said. “Tommy, I hope you enjoyed your evening with us, and thank you for coming. Can you make your way back to the cafeteria on your own?”
“Yes, thank you, Robert,” he said happily, taking my hand and shaking it. “Thank you for everything.”
“No problem,” I said, thinking he’d gotten a little more out of the deal than I’d been expecting, but glad for him nonetheless.
“Kristen, if you can handle the desk, I’m going to take care of this issue. I’m not sure how long I’ll be, so don’t wait for me to start the night audit.”
“Will do,” she nodded.
Leaving the two love birds, I collected the clothes that consisted of a rather plain looking black suit, pressed and starched white dress shirt, and a red tie with thin gold stripes that angled their way across its front, stashed them in my office, and then headed for the security office to check out the keys to the housekeeping and valet laundry offices.
There were a few reports I needed to check.
***
I called up John “Jolly” Rodgers on the M.O.D. phone as I walked back to the service elevators.
“John here,” he answered.
“Hey, John, it’s Robert. Could you pull the runner’s log for Thursday night, the 26th?”
“Sure,” he said. “Anything I should know about?”
“No, just wanted to double check something.”
“I’ve got to run downstairs here in a couple minutes,” he said, sounding unconcerned. “You want me to drop the report off at the desk?”
“That’s okay,” I said, “I’m coming up.”
“If I’m not here when you arrive, I’ll leave it in the mailbox outside my office door.”
“Thanks, John. I appreciate it,” I said, putting my phone in my pants pocket as I reached the service elevators and pushed the “up” button.
John was already gone by the time I reached his office, but I found the runner’s log where he said it’d be, and then I headed across the hall to the main housekeeping offices.
Since John was the night manager, he had a spot just down the hall from the main housekeeping office areas, sharing a space with the second shift manager. The two had moved their office to its current location – which used to be a storeroom – because it was said that their boss, Marian, used to turn off the air conditioning to the main offices during the summer, turning the place into a sauna, and in the winter she’d turn off the heat, making the office space an ice box.
She always denied such tactics when confronted about it. It was rumored though that she told other staff it was her way of ensuring the evening managers were out and about, checking up on their staff, rather than sleeping at their desks.
I found the key that unlocked the assistant director of housekeeping’s office, and once inside, located the huge steel file cabinet that held the housekeeping paperwork.
These files were sorted by day, and they included items such as public space, carpet cleaning, and floor manager reports; as well as room, suite, and public space inspections; houseman, public space, and room attendant assignment sheets; and similar records.
I was here for the assignment sheet of the room attendant who had been assigned to room 11-121 for Friday the 27th – the morning on which she reportedly would have found the dry cleaning that Anthony had left hanging on Doddsman’s door.
The room assignment sheets for the date in question were in no sort of order, having been tossed into the file haphazardly. But after a couple minutes of searching, I found what I was looking for.
A room assignment sheet had been completed by a Brenda Nullens for rooms 11-117 through 11-131 – a total of 15 rooms.
I was hoping that there would be some sort of notation next to room 11-121 regarding the time she picked up the dry cleaning, but other than a “PS” marked beside the room number, indicating a “Privacy Sign,” there was nothing.
I re-filed the paperwork, locked the office, walked down the hall, and rounded the corner by the valet laundry office.
This area was always hot due to the large steam and hot water pipes that ran overhead and that fed the facility’s equipment. This was why I saved this duty until last and hoped not to be here any longer than necessary. It was eerily silent at this time of night.
As in the housekeeping office, I located the file cabinet that contained the valet laundry reports, and then found the corresponding file for the date in question.
I pulled the “Dry Cleaning Laundry Log” report from inside, removed my jacket since I was already starting to sweat, and took a seat at a nearby desk. It didn’t take long to find what I was looking for. One of the first lines at the top of the log page was an entry for 8:04 a.m. The corresponding note next to the entry read: “11-121 - Returned by Brenda Nullens. Night shift delivered and left on door. Guest did not claim. Privacy sign up.”
I laid the runner’s report next to the dry cleaning log. Anthony had reported delivering the dry cleaning to the room at 2:29 a.m.
That meant that the clothes had remained there on the door until Brenda had discovered them and brought them back upstairs that morning.
I knew I was on the verge of something. I had a feeling the pieces of the puzzle were all there, it was just a matter of fitting them together.
It was stifling inside the valet office. I could barely breathe, let alone think. I wondered how people worked up here all day…especially in the summer.
I made a copy of the dry cleaning log at a nearby copier, tucked the original back in its file and put the file away in the cabinet.
I grabbed my jacket and beat it the heck out of there, taking a deep breath of cool fresh air once outside before re-locking the valet office door behind me. I folded the housekeeping and laundry reports together, slid them into my front shirt pocket and took the elevator back downstairs.
On the lonesome ride down, I leaned against the steel wall of the service elevator, letting its coolness seep through my shirt and onto my hot, sticky back. I was tired. I wanted to think through what these reports were telling me, but my brain wouldn’t work. The long and varied hours had finally caught up with me. I closed my eyes and waited for the sound of the elevator doors sliding open, and then I made my way slowly across the lobby.
Once back at the front desk, I found Kristen. She was at her desk sorting through paperwork for the night audit pack that we’d be sending up to the finance department in the morning.
“Okay, short stuff,” I smiled. “You’ve got your day…or should I say, night off tomorrow for your big date. What do you think about doing me a little favor?”
“Sure,” she nodded eagerly.
“Finish up here and let me get some sleep.”
“You’re tired?” she gasped, grinning. “I thought you never got tired!”
“Me too,” I shrugged. “But there’s a first time for everything.”
Secretly, I wondered if my sails hadn’t been slightly deflated by Kristen having accepted Tommy’s date offer.
“Night shift can be a bear,” she nodded, “especially when you’re not used to it or…” her voice faded.
“Or what?”
“Oh nothing.”
“No, no,” I said. “Or what?”
She huffed, “Well I was going to say if you’re older, but I didn’t mean it relating to you.”
“Well, on that note,” I sighed, “I think I’ll be on my way up. Old folks like me need our sleep you know.”
“Robert,” she pleaded, “I didn’t mean it like that. I was just saying for people in general, that the older they get, the harder it is to tra
nsition to the hours. I didn’t mean that you’re old.”
I put up a hand to stop her. “It’s fine,” I said. “No big deal. I see how it is.”
I was giving her a hard time, but as good naturedly as I could.
“Good night,” I turned to leave. “Enjoy you’re date. Have fun. I know you young people need to get out and sow your wild oats,” I said in my best old man impression.
“Stop calling it a date,” she said. “It’s not…not really. We’re just going out.”
“Whatever,” I waved a hand nonchalantly behind me. “No affair of mine. I don’t know how it is with the younger, hipper generation these days.”
Sure, I was a little jealous. I’d had Kristen all to myself for the last week – though she wasn’t really mine – and even though there was no physical relationship, I thought we’d bonded slightly.
“Good night, Kristen. I’ll see you Thursday night…that is, if I can find my walker to help me get down here.”
I heard her groan in frustration behind me as I left the office, and I couldn’t help but smile a little bit at my self-deprecating words.
I made a mental note on the way back upstairs to call Detective Marino first thing in the morning.
I flopped my still-dressed body face down on the bed; the last thing I felt before sleep hit was the lump of the housekeeping reports folded inside my shirt pocket. I hoped they’d leave their impression on my brain – not just my chest – jogging something loose that was relevant to the case while I slept.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
To: allstaff.lanigan@sharedresorts.com
Subject: 11/1 M.O.D. Report
THE LANIGAN HOTEL
CHICAGO, IL
MANAGER ON DUTY REPORT
Wednesday, November 1st
Weather: 49/37 Sun
Occupancy: 38%
Arrivals: 241
Departures: 1356
Event Resume:
3rd floor Vista Rooms I, II, III – (all day) - Hollingston Cooling Systems meetings