“Classy joints you take me to, Fargo.”
Remi stopped when they were only a few yards from the room and her hand flew to Sam’s arm and gripped it, halting him, too. She cocked her head, listening, and then leaned close to him and whispered, “Did you shut the door well when we left?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t say anything for a few long seconds. “Then we have a problem.” She pointed at the darkened doorway. “It’s open.”
CHAPTER 30
Sam edged toward the door. He was only steps away when a figure burst through it and tore at full speed down the hall.
Sam hissed, “Get help. Have the hotel call the police,” and took off after the thief. His shoulder slammed into the wall as he rounded the corner just in time to see the steel exit door at the far end of the corridor swing shut. He drove himself harder, only slowing when he reached the door. He stopped, listening, and then pushed through, out into the darkness.
Sam’s eyes swept the edge of the parking lot and locked on the man, running across the boulevard. Sam covered the distance to the street in a matter of seconds, but his quarry was fast and he disappeared into an alley on the other side. Sam bolted after him, laser-focused on the thief, and he barely registered a dark form hurtling at him from down the street before he was falling, his left side flaring with pain.
An islander on a decrepit bicycle tumbled next to him with a loud clatter. Sam had hit the ground hard. He lay on the pavement for a few seconds with the wind knocked out of him, trying to understand what had happened, and then realized that the bicyclist had been invisible in the darkness because he had no headlight or reflectors.
Sam pushed himself to his feet as the man on the bicycle swore at him from the asphalt in pidgin. Sam’s knee was throbbing, and he could feel scrapes where he’d landed, but he was in one piece, nothing broken.
And the thief was getting away.
He glanced at the fallen rider, a young man who appeared to be fine, if disgruntled, and took up his pursuit of the thief, sprinting for the dark gap that was the alley’s mouth. He paused when he reached it—there was no light, and he could barely make out the far end. Sam glanced to either side and, seeing no hiding places from which he could be ambushed, set out at a flat run. When he reached the other end of the alley, he was on a narrower street, with a handful of small shops on the near side and industrial buildings on the other.
His eyes roved over the buildings, searching for motion or anything out of place. From the far corner, the sound of metal scraping against cement reached his ears. Sam covered the distance in a blink.
And found himself looking at a black-and-white cat perched on a pile of refuse by a garbage can. The feline glared at him, annoyed at being interrupted on its nocturnal rounds, and hopped down, before scurrying off.
Sam froze, straining his ears for any sounds of running human feet. The buzz of a distant motor scooter echoed off the waterfront, but there was nothing else. The area was deserted. After several long moments, he took a final look down the street and sighed.
The thief had escaped.
He made his way back to the hotel, where two police cruisers were parked in front, their light bars flashing blue and red on the building façade. Sam made his way into the empty lobby and continued on up to the room.
When he arrived, Remi was standing outside the door, an annoyed expression on her face. She turned to him with a raised eyebrow.
“Any luck?” she asked.
“No. He got away.”
She nodded and returned to watching two officers gingerly walking through the room, the smaller of the pair scribbling in a small notebook in between taking photographs with a digital camera. The bathroom door was open, as was the closet, and their clothes were scattered across the bed and floor. Sam frowned as he took in the ransacked area and then led Remi down the hall, where the desk clerk and the night manager were standing in the shadows.
The manager came forward, obviously distraught.
“I’m so sorry, sir. Please accept the hotel’s apologies. This has never happened before.”
“Just our luck, then,” Remi said. “It’s been that kind of a trip.”
Documenting the crime scene took half an hour, during which time the pair of officers established that the room’s safe had been broken into and Remi’s tablet stolen but the passports left behind. Once Sam and Remi were allowed in the room, Sam’s eyes strayed to the satellite phone still charging on the table. Remi’s gaze followed his to the phone, and then he turned to the officers.
“Does it strike you as strange that they didn’t take that?” Sam asked, his tone neutral.
The taller of the two shrugged. “Maybe they were afraid the telephone could be tracked. We do have TV here, you know.”
Sam kept his tone even. “And our passports?”
Same shrug. “Nothing they could do with them on the island.”
“They couldn’t sell them?”
The cop shook his head and looked at his partner. “Who’d want to buy your passports?”
Apparently, there wasn’t a thriving market for stolen documents on Guadalcanal because the officers looked honestly puzzled by Sam’s question. Sam didn’t push it and allowed them to finish their report before signing, as requested, at the bottom. Remi went to the door, peered into the hall, and then turned and addressed the taller of the two policemen.
“Maybe there’s a security camera that caught something?” she suggested. “I see a mirrored dome mounted to the ceiling. That’s probably what it is.”
They appeared surprised by the suggestion, but he nodded. “We’ll go check with the manager.” With a final look around, the taller officer shook his head. “It’s a shame this happened—we’ll do everything we can to recover your possessions. But with the town agitated like it’s been lately, people behave in strange ways. I’m sorry your trip to the Solomons was a bad one,” he said as though he personally was to blame for the robbery.
“I’m sure you’ll do your best,” Sam said, trying to maintain a calm demeanor.
Sam and Remi followed the officers to the front desk. The night manager was standing behind the seated night clerk, fidgeting. When the police asked him about the security cameras, he studied his shoes with a sheepish expression before answering.
“System’s been down since last week.”
“What?” Remi blurted.
“It died on us. Takes forever to get parts. Thing’s twenty years old,” he explained.
“Tell me this is a bad joke,” she said.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Believe me, I wish it was working as much as you do.”
Sam touched her arm, and, after a moment, her shoulders relaxed.
“Come on. Let’s get the room cleaned up.” He turned back to the unhappy manager. “I’m assuming you can find another room for us.”
“Of course, sir. Call when you’re ready to move and I’ll come personally to show you your new suite.”
Remi didn’t say anything until they were almost to the room. When she did, it was in a low voice.
“Do you have the same feeling I do?”
“Being violated?”
“No. That this wasn’t a simple robbery.”
He waited until they were inside the room with the door closed behind them. “We’re probably one of the only occupied rooms. Could it have been an inside job? Maybe. But was it something besides thievery? If it was, what? What was the point?”
“It’s awfully convenient the cameras that would have nailed him aren’t working,” Remi said.
“My hunch is it’s hardly noteworthy when something doesn’t work here. It probably hasn’t worked for years, not days.”
Remi moved to the safe. “Whoever did this came prepared. The lock was drilled open.”