Running Dark Part 29

The manager waved a hand at the sofa. "Please sit. I'll get the owner for you."

Banner sat. Ten minutes later a tall, striking middle-aged woman with blond hair, a willowy body, and a regal air walked toward him. She wore impeccably fitting tailored pants with a white silk blouse and peered at him through expensive eyegla.s.ses that lent her a serious, professorial air. Banner stood to greet her. If she was indicative of the quality of the women inside, he was already impressed. She held out a hand to him.

"I'm Isabelle Kartiner, the owner here. I understand that you wish to speak to me?"

"I do. I'm looking for a particular client who may be inside. If he is, I need to arrange to get him out without anyone noticing."

Ms. Kartiner gave Banner a sad smile. "I apologize, but we will be unable to help you. Our clients insist on maintaining their privacy. We wouldn't last a week if it were discovered that we were free with their information."

Banner tried another tack. "Then I won't ask you to find him, but perhaps I can ask you questions that may reveal whether it's worth my while to remain?"

She smiled. "I think it would be worth your while to remain in any event. Our girls are the best at what they do. I'm sure we could find one to suit you."

"Thank you, but I don't normally frequent places like this."

Ms. Kartiner gave him a shrewd look. "Generally I wouldn't believe that statement, as many of our newer patrons claim to be novices to the trade yet really indulge themselves frequently. However, it occurs to me that a man with your looks would have little need to come here for female companions.h.i.+p."

Banner smiled. She had delivered the compliment with an aplomb he admired.

"I imagine that the men who patronize your establishment don't come here because they are unable to obtain female companions.h.i.+p on the outside. I'll wager that they have other impulses that drive them to engage in such a transaction."

Ms. Kartiner looked amused. "That's true. And you? Do you have any impulses that you'd like to explore?"

Banner shook his head. "Just the impulse to locate my friend." He pointed to the entrance. "Do they all leave through this door?"

She smiled. "Yes. Do you wish to wait and see if he appears?"

"I do."

"Please, make yourself comfortable. This isn't our main sitting room-we have a bar and lounge area upstairs, but only paying guests are allowed to proceed to that level. Nevertheless, I'll have a drink brought to you. There is the magazine rack"-she pointed to a Lucite rack that held magazines behind transparent sleeves-"and newspapers in every language are on that wall"-she pointed to a wooden ladder that held folded newspapers. "What would you like to drink?"

"A double espresso would be greatly appreciated."

"Of course." She glided away, her heels making a clicking sound on the marble floor.

Banner watched her as she left. As professional as she was, it was clear to him that she wouldn't give him the information he needed. Despite what he'd told her, he didn't have the time to sit in the lobby waiting for the off chance that Rickell would emerge from the upstairs rooms. He was going to have to work on the manager some more.

Ten minutes later a stunning c.o.c.ktail waitress appeared carrying a black tray. This one was young; Banner estimated that she was no more than twenty-five, with long, s.h.i.+ny brown hair and brown uptilted eyes set in an exotic face. She wore a short black dress that revealed miles of leg and high stiletto heels. She placed before him a narrow silver tray containing a black-and-white demita.s.se cup filled with thick, sweet-smelling coffee, a tiny silver spoon, and a gla.s.s of water. She bestowed a practiced, seductive smile on him.

"Can I get you anything else?" She also spoke in English, but with a slight Eastern European accent. Banner handed her a five-euro bill.

She refused the offer. "Frau Kartiner said that you were not to be charged."

Banner placed the money on the tray. "Tell her thank you."

"Shall I escort you inside? Frau Kartiner suggested that I ask you."

Banner was beginning to understand why Frau Kartiner was the owner of the establishment. She had excellent marketing skills.

"I'll just stay here, thank you," Banner said.

The young woman looked surprised. "You're not going in?"

Banner shook his head. "Not my habit."

A look of yearning came over the woman's face. All the practiced seduction was gone. "Then why are you here?"

"I'm looking for my friend. An American man about fifty years old."

The woman looked puzzled. "There aren't any Americans here right now. Only locals and a group of Asian men in town for a convention."

Banner frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, yes. You see, it's early yet. While we have walk-ins, they don't typically occur until much later in the evening. The early hours are usually filled with the regulars and preregistered conventioneers."

Banner considered the girl worth her weight in gold, because he was now free to move on. He followed up his four euro bills with twenty more.

"Thanks for saving me a lot of time sitting here. Do you have any ideas where my friend might be? Are there any other establishments nearby?"

She seemed to consider his question. "Does he have a specific requirement? If he does, that would narrow down the choices." Banner knew nothing about Rickell's predilections, if he had any at all. If Rickell had been drugged, it meant his judgment was impaired. He could be acting in a manner foreign even to himself.

"None that I know of."

"Try the Speakeasy. Two streets down and left. It's not as nice as here, but the American GIs like it."

He could only hope that Rickell was not so impaired as to walk into a cathouse loaded with American army men. Banner would go there last.

"Anyplace else? He likes poker. Are there any places where he could play a game?"

The waitress turned toward the manager and fired off a long question in German.

The manager shook his head. He directed his attention to Banner. "None of the houses have girls and a casino together." He shrugged. "Doesn't mean that call girls don't work off the books in casinos, but that's the same everywhere."

Banner downed his espresso in one gulp. "How about an off-the-books game in a regulated house?"

The manager gave Banner a knowing look. "Try the VIP Lounge. It's a block north on the diagonal. There's no sign, just a small plaque that says *Private Club.' They often get a game going there."

"Thanks." Banner stood. The whole time he'd been there, not one man had entered. "Is business always this slow?"

The manager smiled. "Not at all, but there's a champions.h.i.+p soccer game on television tonight. Business is always slow when that happens."

Banner didn't bother to hide his surprise. "Soccer trumps women?"

The manager nodded. "In Germany soccer trumps everything."

48.

EMMA FINISHED HIDING THE VIALS. JANKLOW HAD LEFT TO GO to the bridge. She stripped off the mechanic's jumpsuit and shoved it into a drawer just as the electricity went off, plunging her into darkness. She fumbled along a wall to the exit.

The halls were slightly more lit than the cargo area. She made her way toward the bridge, running a hand along the wall to keep her bearings. She heard the fizz of electricity as it surged in fits and starts into the lightbulbs. The area in front of her flickered.

She turned a corner and stopped. People filled the small area, stretching in a long line thirty feet back from a door marked NURSE. Cindy and Marina were squeezing past the waiting patients. Cindy spotted Emma and gave her a nod.

"What's this line about?" Emma asked.

Cindy looked uncomfortable. "Come over here." She led Emma away from the entrance, stopping after they turned the corner. "That's the line of people asking for drugs."

"Drugs? What do you mean?"

"I mean drugs. Tranquilizers, sleeping pills, you name it. The nurse is pretty near the end of her rope."

"Can I talk to her? I just need to ask her a question. Of course I'm happy to help in any way I can, but I'm not licensed to dispense medications, so there's no way I can a.s.sist her with that line."

Cindy started back toward the office door. "Follow me."

They made it to the nurse's office door. The people in the front of the line frowned at their intrusion. One man said, "Get back in line. We were here first."

Cindy put her hands on her hips. "She's not here for medication, Captain Wainwright sent her. She needs to speak to Nurse Miller."

The man subsided a bit. "Are the pirates gone? What's the captain doing? We're going to die out here! I tell you, when I get back to Phoenix, I'm demanding a refund. This trip has been a disaster."

"I understand completely," Emma sympathized. "Captain Wainwright is keeping a close watch on the radar. He's an excellent captain." Emma kept her voice soothing. The man seemed a bit mollified by her manner.

"He's a good man, I know. I don't mean to imply that he's not, but I'm so anxiety-ridden over this situation that I can barely control myself. Why, just an hour ago I thought I would explode. I'm really here for my wife. She threatened to jump off the railing into the sea during the last attack." The man's eyes filled with tears. "She's never done anything close to that before. I calmed her down, but I can't watch her day and night. I came to see if the nurse can give her some anti-anxiety medication." The man sighed a jagged sigh and then patted Emma's arm. "You go ahead on in. I'm not usually like this, all teary-eyed and such." He rapped once on the closed door before opening it for her. "I'll wait till you're done."

Emma walked into a tiny waiting area with comfortable couches and a desk. Behind that was a hallway. A woman sat at the desk, writing on a small pad. She had chestnut hair that ended at a high widow's-peak forehead and was pulled back into a severe ponytail. Her skin was so pale that Emma could see the blue veins underneath. She wore a white coat and a name tag that read ANN MILLER. She finished writing, ripped off the paper, and handed it and a small pill bottle to the female pa.s.senger sitting in front of her.

"Take one every four hours on a full stomach." The woman, who looked to be about sixty, gripped the bottle so tightly that Emma could see the knuckles on her hands whiten. She opened the bottle, took out a pill, and swallowed it right there. The move screamed desperation, and it stunned Emma with its intensity.

"Don't you want some water?" Cindy sounded as shocked as Emma felt.

The woman colored. "No." She mumbled the word, her head down, before bolting out the door. Ms. Miller frowned as she watched the woman leave. Two large creases appeared on her forehead, as if the skin were papery thin.

"Are you the chemist who boarded the s.h.i.+p?" she asked Emma.

"Yes." Emma offered her hand to shake. "I'm Emma Caldridge. Is that line normal?"

Ms. Miller looked surprised. "Good heavens, no. These people are just begging for medications. They all want tranquilizers-I'm going to run out very soon-and most want sleeping pills as well."

"They're scared," Cindy said.

Ms. Miller frowned. "So am I, but I can't just dispense tranquilizers w.i.l.l.y-nilly. I'm turning away anyone who has no history of needing them. But I must say, some of the reactions I'm getting are scaring me."

"Scaring you? Why?"

She swallowed. "They're insisting. Some are threatening violence if they don't get what they want. Their behavior is strange, to say the least."

Shouts of "Come on!" and "Where is she?" echoed from the hallway.

"They're getting restless," Cindy said.

"I'd better get back to work." A look of exhaustion spread across Ms. Miller's face.

Emma put a hand on the woman's arm. "Ask each of them if they recall being stuck with a pen or feeling a jab at any time prior to their symptoms. Ask them if they recall feeling a rush from inside."

Ms. Miller frowned. "You think they've been drugged?"

"I know they've been drugged. I would just like to know who's doing it. Ask them all who was near them at the time of the stick. I'll be on the bridge if you get any answers."

Emma continued wending her way to the bridge, with Cindy and Marina accompanying her. They made it to Deck Three without incident and were fifty feet from the stairs that rose to the exit to the pool deck when a group of people poured into the narrow s.p.a.ce behind them. All three women turned to look. They were face-to-face with a crowd of men, all led by one with a beer bottle in his hand and anger in his eyes. His face was flushed and his color high. Emma watched him labor for breath. Behind him the others jostled one another to get a look at what blocked their pa.s.sage. All the men had wild looks on their faces. Two had facial tics. Emma watched as the muscles under their skin twitched in a regular rhythm.

"Where the h.e.l.l you going?" the man with the beer bottle said.

Emma aimed for a soothing tone. "We're just headed to the bridge."

The man's face flushed brighter. "Get out of our way. That's where we're going. We're going to handle this situation for the captain. We're done sitting here waiting for those pirates to come back and kill us. We're gonna act."

Emma hesitated. The last thing she needed was a confrontation. The lead man noted her pause.

"I said, get out of the way." He moved closer, and the entire group shuffled along with him.

"Emma, let's keep going up." Cindy was behind her, tapping her on the shoulder. Emma could hear the strain in the woman's voice. She didn't want to alarm Cindy, but she wasn't moving. This crowd was not going to the bridge-not past her, at least. She stood her ground as she spoke to the women behind her.

"Go tell Wainwright what's going on here."

The men moved closer.

Cindy's hand clutched Emma's shoulder. "Not without you."

"Yes, without me."

"Marina, go. I'm staying here."

The men moved closer. Emma could smell the beer from the bottle. The lead man's breathing hitched even more. She wished she could calculate how long it had been since he'd been stuck. If recent, he wasn't going to come to his senses anytime soon.

"Just shove her out of the way!" a man yelled from the back of the mob. He spoke with an English accent.

Before Emma could react, the lead man did just that. He put his hands on her shoulders-the one holding the bottle was fisted-and he pushed. Emma staggered backward. She grabbed at a railing set along the wall. If not for that, she would have fallen. She regained her balance and continued to face the men but took one step back. She needed to stay upright. If she went down, she was sure they'd trample right over her in their rush to the bridge. The lead man moved closer. This time he took a final swig off the beer bottle and then raised it high.

"I don't want to hurt you, lady, but you need to get the h.e.l.l out of my way," he said.