Black Hotel

by Renee Wakefield

  40

  Checking In

  The lobby was somewhat clearer when Jack returned. A few people lingered about but none who needed attending to.

  ‘Mrs Dake would like to know —’

  ‘Mrs Dake is a pain in the arse,’ Hector replied. ‘Let me guess, she wants to know something about the Expo.’

  ‘Yeah. The time of Sunday’s steam train tour.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. They’ll tell her tomorrow. ‘

  ‘That’s what I said, but she seemed fairly insistent.’

  ‘She always does. She’s a panicker who always has to know everything. Last year she tried to put the whole hotel in lockdown when she thought she had lost her glasses… They were in her bag.’

  ‘So, what do I tell her?’

  ‘You don’t. She’s probably forgotten all about it already. She’ll want something completely different next time you see her. Best bet is to keep your distance.’ His eyes performed a quick perusal of the lobby. ‘I think we’re good for now. I’m just going to nip to the bathroom.’

  ‘So, I’m in charge?’

  Hector smirked. ‘Sure, Jack. The hotel is all yours.’

  Standing proudly at the reception booth, Jack waited happily for more guests. He smiled over at Merch who gave him the thumbs up from the couches.

  Jack enjoyed the irony of Hector labelling Mrs Dake a panicker. From what he’d witnessed, having guests in the hotel made Hector himself a panicker. How did the rest of the hotel staff cope with guests? It was possible they spent all year waiting and then were terrible when guests finally turned up. Made sense. You generally improve at things with practice. All this tumbled about in Jack’s mind until a familiar sound brought him thudding back to the moment. Chills sliced down his spine.

  The whistling.

  The demented magician entered and ambled his way through the lobby, up to the front desk. His whistling tore through the air. The old guy wore a crumpled suit, not the tuxedo Jack was used to seeing him in, but it was definitely him. He came face-to-face with Jack at reception.

  ‘Hiya, Sport.’

  Jack momentarily lost the power of speech. The demented magician stared at him, waiting for some sort of response.

  ‘Jennings. Checking in.’

  It was all Jack could do to look past Mr Jennings to Merch on the couches. Merch nodded back furiously, making it clear he could see Jennings too.

  ‘Sport? Checking in?’

  Hector hurried over. ‘Jack. What are you doing?’ He elbowed Jack aside. ‘Sorry, sir. Checking in?’

  Jack rushed over to the couches.

  ‘The evil magician.’ Merch said.

  ‘Yep.’ They watched as Hector checked Jennings in and walked him to the stairs. ‘At least he didn’t punch me this time.’

  On his way to the Grand Staircase the old man turned and glared at them. Jack’s insides plummeted.

  ‘Does he usually punch you?’

  ‘Yep. Right in the nose.’

  ‘Bastard!’

  ‘Guess I’ve got that to look forward to.’

  Jack and Merch regrouped by the dumpsters out back of the hotel. ‘He’s the one. He’s going to burn down the hotel. Tonight.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why what?’

  ‘Why does he burn down the hotel?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just know he does.’

  ‘So, what’s the plan?’

  ‘We gotta take him out —’

  A look of total shock covered Merch’s face. ‘We can’t…’

  ‘Why not?’

  Merch leaned in close whispering urgently. ‘We can’t kill him.’

  ‘What? I never said we were going to kill anybody.’

  ‘Yes, you did. That’s what "take him out" means.’

  ‘No, well, in this case take him out means stop him. We’re just, umm, going to stop him. Until the danger passes.’ Jack paced, gathering his thoughts. ‘It’s simple. If he is out of commission, he can’t burn down the hotel.’

  ‘We could ask him.’

  ‘Ask him what?’

  ‘Why he’s going to burn down the hotel.’

  ‘He’s not some Bond villain. He’s not simply going to outlay his whole evil plan if we ask him. Besides we can’t let him know we are onto him. We’ll lose our advantage.’

  ‘Maybe we could ask him to do some magic?’

  Jack looked at Merch, his brow creased.

  ‘Think about it. Maybe that is why he’s upset. No one takes his magic seriously. Maybe if we get him to show us some magic, he’ll feel better about himself and not burn down the hotel.’

  ‘We don’t even know that he’s a magician…’

  ‘But you call him —’

  ‘It’s just what I call him. I don’t know if he actually performs magic. He just looks like a demented magician.’

  ‘He does have that old magician kind of vibe,’ Merch agreed. ‘So, how do we take him out?’

  41

  Jennings

  Hector enjoyed having guests at Black Hotel. It wasn’t something he necessarily looked forward to but something he enjoyed when it happened. Guests and the associated tasks made a nice change from the monotony of doing nothing. He enjoyed the feel of the hotel when things were busy but he forgot how stressful the busyness could be. And Jack wasn’t making things any easier.

  ‘Go on, please, Hector.’

  ‘I don’t know, man. You’re acting odd, even for you.’

  ‘I just want to do a shift with guests. I’ve never done a shift with guests.’

  ‘I’m not convinced you can handle guests.’

  ‘Come on. You don’t want to do the night shift.’ Jack could see him pause, thinking it through. ‘Do it for Maria…’

  The day slowly turned into night. The hotel was fairly quiet but a different kind of quiet to when it was completely empty. Jack could feel the guests upstairs even when he couldn’t see or hear them.

  ‘Sure you’re right?’

  ‘Hector, just go.’

  Hector lingered near the booth, hesitant. ‘You’ve got my number in case anything happens…’

  ‘Nothing is going to happen. Go home and get a good night’s sleep.’

  ‘I’m not going to be sleeping. I’m going to be waiting for you to call to say you’ve locked all the guests out of the hotel somehow. Or you sold the hotel for some magic beans.’

  BRRR!

  The night bell rang, considerably softer now that the hotel was full of guests. Hector left and returned a moment later with the demented magician, all decked out in his tux and fedora now.

  ‘How was your evening, Mr Jennings?’

  ‘Excellent, thank you.’ Hector crossed to the booth and waited for Jack to retrieve Mr Jennings’ key. Jack though couldn’t bring himself to do much except stare. Hector sighed and grabbed the key himself. As he did the old man fixed Jack with a particularly nasty glare. Hector was too busy to notice.

  Merch noticed though. He gave Jack a nod from the lounge area.

  Mr Jennings took his key and made his way up the Grand Staircase.

  ‘Right, Mr Jennings was the last guest out. I think everybody else is happily tucked away in their rooms, ready for a couple of fun-filled days of train-themed activities. So you shouldn’t have to do too much. Jack?

  ‘Yep. Roger.’

  ‘Are you sure you can handle this? I would hate to arrive in the morning and find you hiding in a kitchen cupboard again.’

  ‘Absolutely. No worries. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  Despite the fact Jack wasn’t inspiring a great deal of confidence Hector left anyway.

  Jack nodded across the lobby to Merch who nodded back.

  The floor creaked softly as Jack and Merch strode along the upstairs corridor, in sync. Focused. Jack nursed a metal bar. Merch carried rope. They nodded to one another once more and slid balaclavas over their faces as they arrived at Jennings’ room.

  Jack put an ear to the door. He c
ould hear Jennings whistling from within.

  ‘Let’s do this.’

  KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

  Inside Jennings hadn’t yet changed out of his tuxedo. He glanced at the door, not expecting anyone. As the old guy opened up, Jack and Merch rushed him. With the element of surprise, they were able to force him into a chair, quickly restraining him. They tied his legs together and his arms to the chair arms. Jennings writhed angrily. Jack forced a gag into this mouth.

  ‘Sorry about this.’

  SMACK!

  Jack whacked the bar hard across Jennings’ temple, knocking him out cold…

  Except it didn’t. Jennings glared up at his assailant. Jack tried again.

  SMACK!

  A more forceful blow, same result. Jennings jerked about angrily.

  ‘Dude! Knock him out!’

  ‘I’m trying!’

  Merch snatched the bar from Jack.

  SMACK!

  A trail of blood dribbled down the side of Jennings’ face. Jennings jumped up and down or at least as much as it is possible to jump up and down while being tied to a chair. He yelled and screamed at both of them through the gag.

  Jack and Merch staggered out of the room into the corridor, shaken. They whipped off the balaclavas.

  ‘Tough old bugger.’

  ‘He’s tied up, that’s the main thing.’

  ‘At least we know he is definitely is a magician.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘That was some kind of magic to stay conscious while we hit him like that. Let’s just hope he is not an escape artist.’

  Jack hadn’t thought of that. Nothing they could do. They had to risk it.

  Jack and Merch walked gingerly along the corridor, Jack struggling to calm the swarm of butterflies in his stomach. Perhaps a life of crime wasn’t for him.

  ‘I don’t think he’s going to be too happy when we let him go. He’s so gonna know it was us.’

  ‘One step at a time. He can’t burn down the hotel tonight.’

  Merch grabbed Jack by the arm. ‘Do you feel any different?’ Jack stared back blankly. ‘Can you feel your future memory is fading? Or can you sense new future memories replacing them?’

  Jack stood still for a moment and concentrated hard. ‘Dunno.’

  They ambled to the stairs. ‘Dude, we won. We stopped it.’ They bumped fists and headed down the Grand Staircase.

  Jack and Merch returned to the reception booth. Nothing to do now but wait till dawn. The situation was far from ideal, but no one was going to die tonight. As the nervousness slowly dissipated Jack enjoyed a sense of satisfaction. The hero of the evening, even if no one knew it.

  ‘How does it feel with guests?’

  ‘Weird. The same yet different.’

  BRRR!

  The night bell sounded again, set at its lower setting.

  ‘That’s odd. Didn’t Hector say all the guests were back?’

  ‘I’ll go,’ Merch volunteered. He hustled off, only to come scurrying back a moment later. ‘Shit… We’ve got a problem.’

  He beckoned Jack over. The two spied the main entrance, doing their best to remain hidden. On the other side of the glass door waited an exceedingly angry Nicolette. Scarily angry. She pressed her face to the glass trying to get a look in.

  Jack and Merch snuck back to reception. Staying out of sight.

  ‘What do we do?’ Jack hissed.

  ‘Ummm, nothing?’

  ‘Should I go out and talk to her?’

  ‘Not if you want to live.’

  ‘She’s got the door blocked.’

  BRRRRRRRRRRR!

  The night bell sounded again. Longer and more insistent.

  Merch bit his lip. ‘I’m sure she’ll go away sooner or later.’

  ‘What if one of the guests wants to get in? Or out?’

  At that moment a guest appeared on the stairs. Jack and Merch watched him like a hawk all the way into the lobby.

  ‘What if he wants to go out?’ Jack whispered out the side of his mouth.

  ‘Tell him he can’t.’

  ‘We can’t do that.’

  ‘We can’t let Nicolette in.’

  The guest crossed to where the brochures and promotional flyers were housed.

  ‘You reckon I could send him out the back entrance? By the dumpsters?’

  ‘Sure. Tell him that’s the night entrance.’

  ‘Excuse me,’ the guest asked. ‘Do you have any maps?’

  ‘Just what’s there, buddy.’ Merch responded curtly.

  The guest nodded. Soon he was on his way back upstairs. Crisis averted. Jack breathed a sigh of relief. ‘That was a close one.’

  ‘He’s right. You really should have some maps…’

  ‘Go check if she still there.’

  ‘Like a map of the local area or something.’

  With Merch ignoring his request Jack snuck over to near the entrance. No sign of Nicolette. A mild relief settled in him.

  ‘She there?’

  Jack shook his head as he came back.

  ‘Sweet,’ smiled Merch. ‘We’re all good…’

  Jack relaxed, standing in the middle of the lobby. But it was short lived.

  ‘Ummmm, Merch?’

  ‘Yo.’

  ‘How did you guys get in the other night?’

  Merch’s eyes went wide. Before he could answer footsteps cut through the silence.

  Someone was coming.

  42

  Nicolette

  Jack dashed over to the reception booth. He and Merch awkwardly forced their way into the small space beneath the desk.

  The footsteps approached. Closer and closer. Then…

  ‘Ja - ck… Ja - ck…’ Her voice was cold and taunting. ‘Ja - ck…’

  It was Nicolette. The taunting voice Jack had been hearing. Nicolette entered the lobby. She marched directly up to the reception booth. Closer… Closer…

  ‘Ja - ck…’

  Jack squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could. This was it. He was about to be caught. And, shortly after, die. Nicolette came right around, into the booth. Her knee paused about an inch from Jack’s nose… But it didn’t occur to her to search under the desk.

  ‘Ja - ck…’

  After an eternity she moved and appeared to have left. They listened for the clomp of her boots. A few moments passed. Had she gone? Jack flicked his head indicating for Merch to have a peek out, see if she was still about. Merch’s eyes went wide. He shook his head. Jack had no choice. Cautiously he moved out and peered over the top of the desk.

  She was still there! Jack ducked down, precariously close to having been seen.

  ‘Ja - ck…’

  Finally, they heard her walk away.

  ‘On three, okay? One, two, three.’

  Jack and Merch made a break for it.

  They ran as fast as they could through the dining area, taking refuge in the security room. Jack sucked in a breath as he locked the door behind them. ‘Dude, this isn’t good.’

  ‘Why?’ Merch responded. ‘What can she do? She won’t find us in here and she’ll leave.’

  On the security monitors Nicolette moved methodically from room to room, searching.

  ‘She looks pretty mad.’

  ‘I’d be mad too if you’d killed my sister.’

  ‘What if she attacks a guest?’

  Merch leant back in his chair. ‘All the guests are safe in their rooms. Besides, she’s not a psycho. I mean she is, but she only wants to kill you.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Possibly us.’

  On and on Nicolette went, slow and methodical. Merch lent into the monitor, straining for a better look.

  ‘What’s that she’s holding?’ The thing looked like a piece of plastic about a metre long.

  Jack grimaced, all too aware. ‘A sword.’

  Nicolette continued roaming the hotel. ‘She’s not leaving, man.’

  Eventually, she headed down the rickety staircase to the basement.


  ‘See?’ said Merch. ‘This will be it. She’ll give up after this.’

  ‘I don’t think so. She’s pretty determined.’

  On the monitor and Nicolette stood huddled over in amongst all the junk and old furniture, back to them. Her body obscuring her actions.

  Jack knew what he had to do. He shook his head as he stood. ‘I can’t just hide here. We have to go talk to her.’

  Merch grabbed his arm. ‘No chance… She’ll slice us both into sushi.’

  Nicolette continued whatever she was doing, doubled over, working away.

  ‘What’s she playing at?’

  Finally, she moved aside enough for them to catch a glimpse.

  ‘Oh, shit!’

  Flames danced around her feet, quickly spreading.

  Nicolette had set fire to the hotel.

  Jack dashed out of the security room. If he could get to the fire before it took hold. He grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall and hurried back to the lobby, where he skidded to an abrupt stop.

  Nicolette waited across the room. Pure anger radiating from her. She grasped the hilt of her sword.

  ‘Nicolette.’

  ‘I warned you.’

  ‘Nicolette, please.’

  Nicolette pulled the sword from its sheath. It chinged softly.

  No, no. It wasn’t meant to play out like this. There were people in the hotel. He couldn’t endanger all them.

  ‘Nicolette…’

  The bitter stench of smoke penetrated the air.

  Nicolette charged Jack, full of fury.

  ‘Nicolette, no!’ screamed Merch.

  The three of them collided in the middle of the lobby. An uncoordinated mess. They tussled. No easy fight. Nicolette swinging her sword as best she could with the portly Jack hanging off one arm and skinny Merch grasping the other.

  Nicolette managed to wrench her arm free. She swiped the sword.

  Merch yelped as the sword sliced through the flesh on his arm. He rolled off in pain, distracting Jack.

  ‘Merch!’

  Nicolette acted fast. She elbowed Jack to the face and forced him to the floor, straddling him. Blade to his neck.