"I got to speak to Canon Buchanon," she said in a squeaky voice. "Tell him it's his cousin Idalupino. I got some bad news for him."

While she was waiting for him, she spotted a wallet on the couch. She picked it up and opened it. Kevin's face beamed at her from his driver's license. "I swear," she said as she stuck it in her pocket for safekeeping, "that boy'd lose his prick if it wasn't attached."

As soon as I arrived back at the hotel, I asked for directions to Mackenzie Cutting's office and was directed through a door marked "Authorized Personnel Only." Beyond it was a labyrinth of narrow hallways, but after a few false turns I found a door with his name painted on the opaque glass.

I wasn't sure of the protocol, so I went on inside. The security man with whom I'd had a couple of brief encounters was seated behind a desk. Nearby stood a thick-waisted blond woman in a maroon smock. Estelle was seated on the edge of a chair, twisting a tissue and trying to look anything but frightened. I wasn't fooled.

"Miss Hanks," said Mackenzie, "we meet yet once again, but under less congenial circumstances. This is Linda Billington, the head of housekeeping. I believe you already know Miss Oppers."

"What's going on?" I said.

He glanced at Ms. Billington, who flushed and said, "I have a new girl on the staff. She doesn't speak any English or I'd have her here to tell you her story. She was working on the fourth floor this morning, cleaning rooms as they became vacant. She finished up in one and came back out in the hall. Her cleaning cart was gone. Thinking she might be accused of theft and deported, she hid in a storage closet. Eventually another maid heard her sobbing, dragged her out, and determined the problem. I was called immediately. I rounded up several of my more reliable girls and we conducted a systematic search of all the floors." She turned her head slightly in order to glower at Estelle. "We found her on the sixth floor, dressed in a housekeeping smock and pushing the stolen cart. Based on the complaints we received in my office, she annoyed a large number of guests by ignoring the DO NOT DISTURB signs on their doorknobs and using a passkey to go into the rooms. That is strictly against our rules. We regard those signs with reverence. Many of the guests stay up very late and prefer to sleep until noon. A goodly number of them are too inebriated to engage the deadbolt before retiring."

"I don't see where burglary and criminal mischief enter into this," I said to Mackenzie, not trusting myself to look at Estelle.

"We haven't called the police," he said levelly.

I turned to Ms. Billington. "Did anyone go so far as to accuse her of theft?"

"No, but she stole the cart and used the passkey to enter guests' rooms. I think it's obvious she hoped to spot money or jewelry on the dresser. Why else would she pretend to be a member of our staff?"

A very good question, I thought as I resisted the impulse to grab Estelle's scrawny neck and demand an answer. "If you'll overlook this minor indiscretion, I will personally supervise Miss Oppers's movements until we check out. Except for the times we are at my mother's bedside at the hospital, she will remain in her hotel room. Miss Oppers has no desire to give an interview to the press in which she explains how easily she gained possession of a passkey. It might reflect badly on security at The Luck of the Draw."

"It was all the new girl's fault," Ms. Billington put in. "She failed to follow procedure. The key should have been in the pocket of her smock."

Mackenzie Cutting raised his hand to cut her off. "You may go, Ms. Billington. Find someone who can communicate with this girl and see that the procedures are explained more clearly to her. Bring me a list of all those who complained this morning. Complimentary baskets of fruit will do much to erase any unpleasant feelings."

"Yes, sir," she said.

"All right, Miss Hanks," he continued, "we'll refrain from pressing charges as long as nothing further takes place. Miss Oppers, I have no idea why you felt the need to impersonate a hotel employee. Do not do it again."

Estelle nodded, gave me a wary look, and scurried out the door as if she could hear bloodhounds baying in the distance.

"I'll make sure she doesn't," I said lamely, then turned around and left.

It was not one of my grander exits.

10

By the time I reached the room, Estelle had locked herself in the bathroom and was running water in the bathtub. Niagara Falls was more subtle than her ploy.

"You come out of there," I said, wondering if I could order a crowbar from room service. It didn't seem likely.

Estelle had enough sense to stay where she was. "I am gonna take a bath to ease my jitters. I was never so terrified in all my born days when I was set upon by those women flapping down the hall in purple smocks. As a child, I was attacked by a flock of starlings, and it left me scarred for life. I feared for my very life this morning."

"Oh yes, I often lie awake at night worrying that maniacal maids will burst into my bedroom and dust me to death. Turn off the tap and get yourself out here to explain."

"I'll come out when I've a mind to. Now you just go about your business and let me have some peace and quiet."

I gave up and went on into the main part of the room. A maid who may or may not have been fluent in English had made the beds, vacuumed, removed the breakfast tray from room service, and left a fresh pink carnation in a vase by the telephone. An opulent arrangement of orchids and birds-of-paradise would not have cheered me up.

The message light on the telephone was not blinking. I contemplated calling the hospital, but finally convinced myself that I would have been notified if anything critical had taken place. Ruby Bee was older than she admitted, but she was basically robust. More often than not, she was a pain in the neck, but I wasn't sure if I could do without her nagging.

Some of it, anyway.

I was struggling with unpleasant thoughts when someone knocked on the door. Doubting that Estelle was going to rise from the bathwater like a phoenix from the flames and respond, I wiped my eyes and opened the door.

"Oh," said the woman in the hall, peering at me through wire-rimmed glasses. "My name is Taylor. Is Estelle here?"

"Estelle is taking a bath," I said as I waved her in. If the Shriners and the ladies from Tuscaloosa showed up in the immediate future, I was more than willing to arrange liaisons in the casino. Maybe I could lure Japonica over to meet Mackenzie Cutting, and set up an intimate dinner for Rex and Ms. Billington. Cherri Lucinda might take a fancy to Chief Sanderson. Or I could mix and match with giddy abandon. All things were possible.

Taylor eyed me uncertainly as she came a few feet into the room. "Do you know how long she'll be? I really need to speak to her."

I pounded on the bathroom door. "Hey, Estelle, you've got company. Someone named Taylor. Shall I order tea and cream cakes?"

After a significant moment of silence, Estelle said, "Tell her what happened. I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Something happened?" Taylor said, giving me a smile that was as lackluster as her beige skirt and sweater.

"Nothing much," I said. "Estelle was busted for burglary, but it happens all the time."

"It's my fault. Well, it's more Todd's fault. He's my fiancé. It's just that when he disappeared, I couldn't stop myself from thinking the worst." Tears erupted, fogging up the lenses of her glasses and making me feel like a bully with all the compassion of Attila the Hun.

"Why don't you tell me what you're talking about?" I suggested gently.

"Okay, after we got the key yesterday afternoon, Todd and I went to our room, which is down the hall. He took a shower and shaved, and said he was feeling better. We decided to hold off on dinner for a while and go to the casino to have a look. We were walking past the bar when a bunch of his buddies from high school yelled at him. I would have preferred to keep on going, but Todd insisted that we join them for a drink. I thought it was a dreadful idea."