by D K Bohlman
Sarah asked the question that had been strangling Aliz’s mind during the evening before and right through a sleep-deprived night.
‘So, is he going to kill us?’
Aliz let out a soft gasp. ‘I do believe so, my dear.’
‘Then we need to escape, right? How do we get out of here? You know the hotel. How can we get out or get a message or signal to someone?’
Aliz shook her head. ‘Not easy. Katalin has been here for eight years, so you have to consider that. Everything is soundproofed. Everyone thinks this is a room reserved for management use. The extra food supplied to Katalin was not hard to hide. For three of us, it will be. That’s if we get any.’
‘We got breakfast,’ Katalin offered, by way of evidence.
‘Yes, we did. But I’m not sure he can keep doing that without making the kitchen staff suspicious. For one thing, they will know I am missing. I expect the food to stop soon. And he will kill us then. Or I suppose he could just leave us to starve to death.’
Her words threw a dead hush over them all for a few moments.
Sarah broke the silence.
‘But why would he kill us? Why?’
Katalin looked at Aliz for the lead. She took it.
She threw her head back on the edge of the mattress and then forward, steeling herself to start.
‘Lots of reasons, I’m afraid. First, you both know about his father’s implication in some things that Arrow Cross did in the war. He is afraid you might talk to many people about that.
Second, if it became public, then the hotel might somehow be threatened … I don't know how exactly but I think he is worried it will be seized or something. You have to remember it is his inheritance. Of course, there is also the shame this could bring on him and his family. He is a well-respected doctor. One of his sons is still quite young, he had him later in life. I suppose the other thing is that he can't think of a better way to stop all these threats to him and his reputation.’
Katalin and Sarah sat silently, absorbing the implications of all of this. Then Katalin threw out a question.
‘So, why are you here? Did you learn about Marton’s activities with Arrow Cross too?’
Aliz had been ready for this question very soon after she realised she had been imprisoned with the two young women. She’d decided not to tell the truth … at least not all of it.
‘Yes, I did, not long after you were put in this room, Sarah. I learnt then that both of you were here. I told Peter Kovacs soon after Marton died. I didn’t know what to do about it before then. I tried talking to Marton about releasing you both but he wouldn't listen. I think he couldn't cope with the thought of it, as he was so ill then. Peter was horrified, of course, but, well, then he started to think about the implications, as we just talked about. He must have decided that since I knew about you, that I was a risk too.’
‘So he just threw you in here too?’ Sarah asked, ‘And he's a doctor? Would a doctor really kill us all? I mean is he a madman or something, is he a bad person? That’s just crazy, you can’t just kill people because of your reputation! Well, not unless you're a drug lord or something.’
Aliz let out a heavy sigh. ‘Well, I think he will. He is in a corner. Also, I have heard some … bad … things about Peter over recent years. I think he is associated with some neo-Nazi groups and I think he is not always, well … I mean there are rumours he has done some criminal things. I don't know if these rumours are true. But I think he is not a purely good person, no, I don’t think so.’
‘So much for the fucking Hippocratic oath then!’ Sarah spat.
Aliz looked bemused by the language.
Katalin was shaking her head, in disbelief. ‘I didn’t know Marton died. When was this?’
‘Just a few days ago, my dear.’
Aliz was surprised to see some sadness in Katalin’s face.
Contemplation hung over all of them. Sarah broke the stillness again. ‘Look, we need to get out, that’s the main thing. We can worry about Peter Kovacs’ intentions but that won’t help us. Maybe we can do something about the door. It was plastered over before. Now it isn’t.’
‘Mmm, maybe,’ Aliz said, ‘it’s worth a look. He will have locked it and blocked it behind with a wardrobe I expect, maybe more than that. But it's worth a try.’
Sarah and Aliz stood up. Sarah tried the doors.
‘Well, it’s locked, of course.’ Sarah looked through the cracks around the edges of the doors, to see if she could see anything in the room beyond.
‘It’s all dark through there but it looks like some fabric is pushed up against the doors. Stripy.’
‘What colour?’
‘Green and white, I think.’
‘Hotel mattresses then. They’re all that colour. He must have pushed them up against the door for sound-proofing now the plaster’s gone; between the doors and the wardrobe in the far room. Not that it will make much difference, either way, these rooms are at the end of the corridor. There aren’t many people in a position to hear us.
Katalin coughed. The other two turned around. It was the kind of a cough you made when you wanted to say something.
‘We could start a fire?’
Aliz was taken aback by the suggestion of fire when they were trapped in a room.
‘But how would that work? Anyway, how would you start it, do you have matches or a lighter?’
‘No. But there is the gas fire. I could light a piece of paper from it. But it will only work if there is a smoke alarm in the next room. There isn’t one in here.’
Aliz was suddenly interested. ‘Actually, there is one in the next room, yes.’
‘Has it been tested recently?’ Sarah asked. ‘Do we know it works? I mean, if it doesn’t, by the time the fire has gotten into the corridor, it could be too late for us, it will be burning in here too, or the smoke will have killed us!’
They all considered this. In the end, it was Katalin that recognised the truth of their situation.
‘Look. Aliz thinks Peter may kill us. Or let us starve. Either we take a chance or we stay here and are a simple target. What you want to do, eh?’
Neither Aliz nor Sarah had an easy answer to that.
Aliz stood up and walked over to the dumb waiter, lifted the hatch.
‘Actually, lunch is late.’
The implication of that darkened Katalin and Sarah’s glum faces. It just made Aliz more certain of their fate.
She remembered what had happened that night in 1945. She remembered Marton imprisoning both of the women and how he fed them in room 31. She knew more than she had spoken about Peter Kovacs’ murky character. She knew everything. She told herself she should know what to expect.
Over the years, though, there had always been one thing that Marton hadn’t told her.
Because he didn’t know of it himself.
Last meal
____________________________
Peter peeled back the rug in room 41 and peered through the spy-glass. He could see some part of two of the women below. He could see Aliz’s face staring upwards, almost as if she were looking directly at him. She probably knew about the spy-hole but he knew she wouldn’t be able to see him. There was a leg too, he couldn’t tell who that belonged to.
It was at that point, that he realised he knew the best way.
Of course, this spy-hole was under his control. It was up to him what he did with it. Or what he put through it.
Putting something through it seemed almost, well, poetic. A resonance with the past.
To gas them.
He knew he shouldn’t have that thought. He knew the new right-wing wouldn’t profess that they should follow those old ways. But how many of them thought it? Maybe a few. Maybe more than that. He was searching for some shred of justification for what he was thinking, for what he was about to actually do.
But what gas? Carbon monoxide would be easy: he just needed a cylinder of the stuff, to pump through the hole. He’d already been researching the st
ep after that.
Human composting was something that he knew was viable. He needed the clothes out of the room, so he could dispose of them, remove their rings, lever out any metallic teeth fillings. He’d have to hope there were no metal hip or knee replacements. The only one he wasn’t sure about was Neuman but he was probably way too young for that. Anyway, he could always sift the compost afterwards, if he was worried. Not the nicest of jobs.
And then, well, mix the bodies with some other dry composting materials and seal it all up so there would be no seeping odour. A couple of months later and he should be able to remove it unnoticed … and it would be unrecognisable as anything remotely linked to a murder.
Murders.
He got up from the floor and sat on a dining chair, staring at the spy-hole. His mind seemed to split into two, arguing whether to do it, each side glaring at the other: hostility, surprise and embarrassment all mixed in the exchanges. They were fighting for control, but one was destined to lose. Over all of the cerebral functions, a more basic instinct was watching and waiting, determined as ever to drive his actions. Personal survival was going to win. He made a phone call.
*
Peter personally prepared the final meal that Katalin, Sarah and Aliz would eat. He collected most of it from the kitchens then added some bits from the lounge cafe.
No one questioned him when he asked for things. It was weird being the boss, everyone running at the snap of his fingers. Best not to get too overbearing with it, though, he needed the staff to be neutral to him, to be low profile. If he made enemies, then any mistake he made that exposed itself to the staff might be pounced upon. People with grudges were dangerous.
He looked down at the two trays he was going to send down the dumb waiter.
Spiced chicken soup. They would eat that first. That’s why he put the tranquilisers in there. They’d take a little while to kick in, but when they did they’d be subdued for at least the rest of the day.
Some cold beef salad. Then some patisserie as a treat. Raspberry tarts and sacha torte. Coffee too, though by the time they got to that the caffeine would be in vain. Chocolates to finish. It was what he would like himself as a last meal.
It was three in the afternoon. They’d be hungry. Ready to scoff the soup.
He placed the trays onto the shelves in the lift and pressed the start button. Then he pushed the bell to warn the other end it was coming. Not that it was really needed, the noise of the motor would be enough.
As the trays disappeared from view, his doorbell rang.
He walked over briskly and opened the door. He stared blankly at the man who was stood there. Not who he was expecting.
Though he did have something with him that eased Peter’s sudden tension. Tucked under his arm was a slim metal cylinder. He’d come in the trade entrance with the security code Peter had provided and brought the cylinder up in the service lift, to avoid arousing reception’s suspicions.
‘Not Toth then?’
The man frowned. ‘No. Mr Toth is unable to come. He sends his apologies and asked me to deliver these to you.’
Peter took the cylinder from him and threw him a quizzical look.
‘And the other item?’
The man dropped his head in a short nod and fished a small bundle from inside his overalls. He passed it to Peter with a gentleness that wasn't worthy of the item inside the wrap of cloth.
Peter unrolled the material and smelled the gun oil. This was his insurance policy. ‘Nice. Thank you. That’s all then. Here’s your recompense.’ He pushed a large envelope into the man’s hand.
‘Count it.’
The man raised his eyes until they were boring into Peter’s. ‘No, no need, sir. Mr Toth will ask me to come back if it’s not correct.’
He turned on his heel and left, leaving Peter wondering if he ought to have checked the banknotes total for a third time.
He sat on the bed and picked up his phone. He started to write a text. To Calum Neuman. Teasing him with the possibility of information. Inviting him to be snared in his widening web in room 31. He knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.
He assumed he would bring the girl he thought was assisting him. The one he'd seen talking to him in the hotel lounge yesterday. If not, it might get messy. Hard to imagine how much more of a mess it could really become.
Calum receives an invite
____________________________
Calum was getting a little irritated as Jenna regaled him with tales of how relaxing the thermal spa baths at Gellert had been this afternoon.
His phone saved him with a text. A local mobile number … he clicked it open.
Mr Neuman, I have some information for you about the missing Scottish girl. I can discuss with you this evening if you come to the hotel at say ten? I am rather busy but just come up to room 21 … no need to call at reception. I hope I can help you. Let me know if this is OK, please. Peter Kovacs.
Calum stared at the message a moment, then looked up at Jenna. He turned his phone towards her and raised it so she could read the message.
‘Hmm. Good break … or sounds a bit spooky?’
‘Exactly what I was thinking. Why now? What happened?’
‘On the other hand …’
‘If we don't go, we’ll not find out.’
‘Exactly.’
Calum tightened his lips and then took a deep breath.
‘But we should be careful. It’s a shame I’m not meeting that chambermaid until tomorrow morning … it would have been useful to hear what she said first. I suggest we don’t arrive together, just a few moments apart maybe. Maybe you go to your room first. I meet him, then you follow a little later.’
Jenna nodded, slowly at first, then more enthusiastically.
‘OK. Let’s get some food first then. I need hot food tonight, something hearty if we’re out on the case later, I had a salad already today.’
Calum smiled. ‘Suits me. Always will.’
Nagy gets ready to move in
____________________________
A secretary from the pool brought Nagy the permit from the Chief of Police to enter Hotel Cristal en masse. He called Jan into his office.
‘We have the go-ahead to search Kovacs’ hotel. Are we ready?’
‘More or less, we can go after eight p.m., sir.’
Nagy dipped his head. ‘Good enough. We’ll inform Mr Kovacs on arrival. We need to search quickly with as many men in parallel as possible. How many do we have?’
‘Twelve, sir.’
‘OK, that’s good.’
‘What are we looking for, other than the obvious?’
‘Well, yes, the Scottish woman. But maybe Aliz Gal too. We need to look for all the rooms not used by guests first. The public areas are obvious, so are things like the kitchens but also any other rooms not necessarily obvious to us. So we need to enlist the help of a receptionist to help us with that, not Kovacs.’
‘Clothing, sir?’
Nagy looked surprised.
‘We’re maybe dealing with a neo-Nazi organisation. If they have taken two women, then we can expect it may be a difficult task, depending on the level of surprise we manage. We should expect the worst. Full protective gear … I assume you included a couple of marksmen?’
‘I did, sir. And OK, I’ll get the gear arranged now. So when?’
‘Let’s go at ten-thirty when things are quieter with the guests. Don't want to scare too many of them, huh?’ He cast an evil smile at Jan. He was going to enjoy this.
As Jan left the room, he pulled out a pack of unfiltered French cigarettes.
Nagy shouted after him. ‘Next one of those cancer sticks will be with a beer. Maybe we’ll have something to celebrate eh?’
Calum & Jenna at the Cristal
____________________________
Calum walked up the steps to the Hotel Cristal at five minutes to ten. As he walked through the entrance, he cast his eyes around the lobby. Almost deserted. He walked on through t
o the lifts, jumped in one that was waiting and pressed the second-floor button. Jenna was hanging back in her room for a few minutes, as planned. He was sweating slightly, despite the cold weather outside. He shook his head to settle himself and stepped out as the lift doors opened on the second floor.
He walked up to room 21 and knocked on the door.
*
Peter Kovacs was at the limit of his ability to cope.
He picked up his insurance policy and slid it into the back of his trouser belt, under his suit jacket. He’d seen that move on T.V.: seemed like a good place to hide it from view. He felt like leaving his jacket off, he was sweating more than normal, but he needed the gun to be concealed.
He opened the door.
‘Hello, Mr Neuman.’
Calum dipped his head.
‘I have some information for you, but it’s best we go upstairs, where we can discuss with Sarah McTeer in person.’
*
Calum felt a surge of tension rise within him.
‘She's here?’
‘Yes. If we go upstairs, you can meet her and you can discuss the situation with her.’
Calum hesitated, alarm bells ringing.
‘Your assistant,’ Kovacs went on, ‘I think I saw you together in the hotel before. She isn’t coming?’
‘Ah, yes she is, she’s been held up by something, she’ll be here in a while. Let’s start to talk to Sarah, though, that’s fine.’
It was Kovacs’ turn to hesitate. Calum thought he noticed something in his eyes, betraying his apparent calmness.
‘Hmm, well OK, I’m sure we can unless you’d prefer to wait?’
‘Nope, let’s start, Jenna isn’t necessary for anything, she just helps me.’ Calum hoped Kovacs wouldn't repeat that in any shape or form to Jenna later.
Peter nodded and stepped forward, closing his room door behind him.
‘This way then.’ They walked together and took the stairs to the third floor.