Green Kills

by Avi Domoshevizki

  “Excuse me, sir, is this yours?” Ronnie heard Gadi’s voice, addressing him in English.

  Ronnie turned around and saw Gadi holding a small bundle with two keys hanging from it. Ronnie demonstrably fumbled in his trouser pockets, gave Gadi an embarrassed smile, and said, “Thank you. I must have dropped them when I took my cell phone out of my pocket. Thank you, sir.” He took the bundle and stashed it in his pocket without giving it another glance.

  Ronnie’s and Liah’s suitcases arrived in the first batch. “First time in my life I’ve been lucky,” Liah muttered. Gadi had vanished, but Ronnie wasn’t worried. He knew his best friend was somewhere within reach, and guessed the key chain he’d received contained a GPS transmitter that allowed Gadi to know his location at any given moment.

  The digital clock above the reception desk showed the hour to be three thirty-four AM when they stepped into the hotel lobby. A drowsy desk clerk greeted them. “Welcome to the Sheraton,” he said. “Name please?”

  “Ronnie Saar. Two people.”

  “Yes, I see.” The desk clerk raised his head and gave Ronnie a curious look, “No checkout date?”

  “Please put it down as Monday morning. I’ll update you if it changes,” answered Ronnie. The desk clerk’s curiosity-filled eyes gave him an idea. “I understand there was an unexpected death here yesterday.”

  “Yes, terrible.” The desk clerk was now fully awake, torn between his duty to be discreet, and his desire to speak about the subject that had shaken and horrified the hotel staff.

  “Did you know the man who died?” asked Liah.

  “Of course.” The desk clerk was drawn into the conversation. “I’ve known Mr. Lumner ever since I started working here. He always used to check in to the hotel in the middle of the night. ‘That’s how you gain an additional workday.’ That’s what he always used to say. He always had time for small talk, even when he was very tired. A charming man.” Genuine pain clouded his face.

  “I always wondered if things like this can be predicted,” Ronnie remarked. “Was there anything unusual about his behavior?”

  “Not at first. He arrived around one thirty AM, as usual. He took the last United flight from Boston.” His voice rose with pride, “He gave me a Boston Celtics hat as a present and made it clear he expected me to wear it the next time he came to the hotel.”

  “You said, ‘not at first.’ What did you mean? What happened later?” As usual, it was Liah who directed the conversation to the desired direction.

  “Eh…While we were speaking, his phone rang. I remember thinking it was a strange time to be getting calls, even from the West Coast, and certainly from the East Coast. Mr. Lumner answered the call, listened for a moment, then walked away and spoke in whispers. Two, three minutes later, it looked like he was losing his patience. I heard him raise his voice, saying something like, ‘There’s no way I’ll give you…’ and then he went back to whispering. He was very upset. He took his key and went up to his room without wishing me a good night. It was very strange.”

  “Did you tell that to the police?” asked Ronnie.

  The desk clerk shrugged. “No one ever came to talk to me.”

  “I suggest you do,” said Ronnie in an authoritative voice. “It’s your civic duty.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” the desk clerk’s voice turned cold. “Here are your room keys. Breakfast is served from six to eleven. I’m afraid the meal is not included. I’ll call the bellboy to help you with your suitcases.”

  “No need, we’ll manage on our own. Good night,” said Ronnie. He took the key cards and turned toward the elevators with Liah. Suddenly, an idea came to him and he headed back, pulling Liah after him.

  “Did Mr. Lumner receive any other calls or visitors during the night?”

  The desk clerk hesitated and shifted his gaze to Liah’s face. She answered him with a warm smile. “About half an hour after he had gone up to his room, I transferred a call to him.” He yielded to Liah’s smile. “Five minutes later, Mr. Lumner called down and asked me not to put any more calls through. He sounded upset or tired. I guess he was tired. By the way, the call was from China. I know that because I was curious about the area code and found out what country it was from.”

  “Do you have any record of outgoing calls as well?” asked Ronnie.

  “Wait a minute. Let me check the copy of his bill,” answered the desk clerk, his eyes nervously shifting from side to side. “No, no charges for outgoing calls. But that’s not unusual. Nowadays, most people use only their cell phones.”

  “Thanks. And good night again.” Ronnie left a twenty-dollar bill on the counter, grabbed Liah’s arm, and turned to the polished steel doors of the elevators. While waiting for the elevator, he saw Gadi out of the corner of his eye, entering the hotel and going toward the reception desk.

  Chapter 10

  Sunnyvale, October 18, 2013, 8:15 AM

  The guest in room 1022 lingered next to the door, carefully examining his reflection in the entryway mirror. He found the image to be pleasing. Five feet eight inches of muscles, oriental features he inherited from his Taiwanese mother, and hair that refused to turn gray, completely blurred the truth he was in his late forties and concealed the many injuries his body had suffered during his long career as a martial artist. He wore a pair of plain jeans and a black, slightly oversized t-shirt with a Nike symbol spread across it. On his feet he wore a pair of blue sneakers, and his watery, cobra eyes were concealed behind dark sunglasses. He moistened his index finger with his tongue and fixed an imaginary errant hair on his right eyebrow, took a last glance in the mirror, and left the room.

  The corridor leading to the elevators was deserted. As always, luck is on my side, he thought, as the door of the empty elevator opened with a faint whistle. He stepped in and pressed the “Lobby” button, maintaining an emotionless expression as the metal cell began its descent.

  He ran the usual list of activities in his mind: telephonic checkout — done, the falsified details were already in the hotel’s computer; he’d left nothing behind in the room; and all fingerprints were erased. He knew from experience only careful planning and an almost paranoid caution had kept him alive thus far.

  The elevator stopped on the eighth floor. A man and a woman in their thirties stepped inside, nodding a good morning greeting to him. The guest answered with an offhand nod of his own and returned his gaze to the floor indicator screen above the door. There wasn’t any need. The man was focused on the woman’s face, and it was doubtful he would be able to identify him from their meeting in the Waltham orchard.

  “Lobby,” the mechanical voice announced as the elevator stopped and the door slid silently into the wall. Ronnie gestured with his hand politely, inviting the guest to be the first to exit, smiling back at the thank you nod the stranger sent him.

  The guest crossed the lobby without stopping and went out the revolving door into the hotel’s private access road, where his rental car was waiting. His hand slid a ten-dollar bill into the palm of the valet, as the latter gave him the car keys.

  “You like him more than you like me?” Liah caressed Ronnie’s cheek.

  “Did you notice he was wearing a Phi Beta Kappa ring? For the life of me, I can’t really see him belonging to that elitist honor society.”

  “At least he’s not a sloppy dresser like you. I still want to die every time I see you show up to the fanciest events dressed like a dairy farmer.” She kissed his smiling mouth, and her hands lovingly brushed his unruly hair as they walked hand in hand toward the dining room.

  Chapter 11

  Sunnyvale, October 18, 2013, 8:35 AM

  “I have to admit they cleaned the room really well,” muttered Gadi. “The little shits wiped out all the evidence.” He pulled a chair from a nearby table and sat at Liah and Ronnie’s table in the hotel dining room.

  “Yes, that’s fine, Gadi, you’re welcome to join us.” Liah smiled at him.

  “Late last night, probably because the
hotel management pressured them to do so, the police approved cleaning the room your Christian had slept in. After I checked in, I paid the room a little visit. Everything is spotless. It’s impossible to reach any conclusions about what actually took place in there.”

  “Why did you let them know you’re interested?” Ronnie wondered. “Why would you want to draw their attention?”

  “Who said I asked for permission? I just said I dropped by the room for a visit. I visited several other places in the hotel as well, it was pretty interesting.” Gadi smiled mischievously. “Besides, at the very least, the night clerk already knows I’m interested. He knows you’re interested as well. At least that’s what he told me last night. Do you know how much a desk clerk working for this fancy hotel makes a month? It’s a scandal! On the other hand, his measly salary gave the hundred-dollar bill I just happened to have in my pocket pretty good purchasing power. Being a good person, I thought the money should be in the hands of someone to whom it could really make a critical difference.” Gadi stopped and winked at them. “Would you believe I’m able to use ‘purchasing power’ and ‘critical’ in a single sentence without getting confused? To make a long story short, by mere coincidence, the desk clerk needed to print out a list of all the guests who stayed in the hotel yesterday, including the checkout times of those who’d exhausted the ‘Sheraton experience.’ He was so excited by my philanthropic display that he accidentally printed two copies. One of them is now in the hands of Benjamin O’Hara, a New York detective I’ve been cooperating with for many years. I assume we’ll know if we have a possible lead by the end of the day.” Gadi spread his hands forward, leaned his head back slightly, and gave them a proud look, like a child expecting to be praised for his resourcefulness.

  “Who said we’re going to investigate what happened?” asked Ronnie with mock anger. “What my company wants is to get out of this without our name being mentioned and move on. Do me a favor and let go of it. It would be a pity if your help drags me into this mess. It’s better for me, for the fund I’m working for, and for TDO to remain invisible. OK, Gadi?” Ronnie tried to explain, even though he knew Gadi had now entered his “selective deafness” mode. The moment he had his sights locked on something, curiosity became the only force that drove him, and until he could satisfy it, he would remain locked on target like a cruise missile. His target’s destiny would be that of a cruise missile’s as well.

  “Understood, sir. And you’re welcome. Shall we eat something? I’m dying of hunger.”

  The three of them went over to the buffet, which was laden with numerous dishes.

  “Nothing beats the cheeses you get in Israeli hotel breakfasts,” mumbled Liah, a hint of longing in her voice. “Who would want to eat beans or miso soup for breakfast?”

  The two boys weren’t listening. They were busy filling their large plates with food and exchanging meaningful glances, understood only by them. For a moment, they seemed to her like a pair of lovers, and she felt a pang of jealousy. Their eyes scanned the restaurant and its guests, and once they’d finished their coordinated examination, they signaled a confirmation to one another with a mutual wink of an eye. Liah couldn’t help but admire the fact they were able to perform these actions while selecting food and conducting small talk about the weather, the flight and other nonsense she knew did not really interest them in the least. “You’re acting like two second-rate spies,” she said sarcastically, “whispering and sending each other signals. Who do you think is listening to you? That old lady over there who’s going to collapse to the floor if she adds one more slice of bread to her plate? Oh, I know, those two young guys over there wearing suits. They’re the enemy. Take it easy, boys. We have a long day ahead of us.”

  “Look, Liyush,” Gadi addressed her with a nickname he’d just invented, “you know I’m not prejudiced against anyone, I’m just suspicious of everyone. You can never be too careful. I’m not really afraid of the old lady. I think I have a fair chance of beating her in hand-to-hand combat. The young guys over there are really detectives. Good job. Now let’s eat.”

  The three of them quieted down and concentrated on the plates in front of them.

  “Mr. Saar?” Ronnie raised his eyes and saw the two suit wearers standing over the table. One of them quickly flashed a detective’s shield clipped to his belt.

  “Yes. How can I help you?”

  “We’d like you to join us for a brief conversation, after you finish your meal. We can conduct it in the hotel lobby or down at the station, wherever you choose.”

  “I suppose I know what this is all about, and I’d be delighted to speak with you. How about fifteen minutes from now in the lobby?”

  The two young men nodded in agreement and returned to their table, where they continued to follow each of Ronnie’s movements. Gadi kept on eating as if all this had nothing to do with him. “Liyush, well done identifying those two,” he said into his plate. “You’ve got yourself one hell of a bride, Ronnie.”

  “Enough with your nonsense, Gadi,” Liah snapped at him. “This is not a game anymore. Ronnie, what do you plan to do?”

  “Mainly to listen and try to get some information from them. It’s nothing to be excited about. They know I had nothing to do with this.”

  “Then how did they find you so quickly?” Liah insisted.

  “They think like Gadi, only they have more manpower to handle information processing,” answered Ronnie with ease, while in his mind he was already busy planning the tactics of his conversation with the detectives. “They must have run a background check on Lumner and my name came up. Once they discovered I was at the hotel, someone in the police decided it could be worthwhile to talk to me. The easiest explanation is that our friend from last night had a word with them and perhaps, to impress the police, decided to play amateur detective as well, and now they think I might know something. Everything is fine. Don’t worry.”

  “If you’d like,” Gadi said while chewing, “you can turn the large key in the bundle I gave you last night a hundred and eighty degrees. That way I’ll be able to hear your conversation with the policemen. Anyway, the GPS is working and I’ll know if they happen to decide to take you down to the police station.”

  Ronnie took the keys out of his pocket and activated the transmitter according to Gadi’s instructions. “Behave yourselves,” he said and left the dining room. The two detectives hurried after him.

  Gadi gave Liah a long stare. “What?” she asked.

  Gadi didn’t waste any time. “I didn’t believe Ronnie would ever trust a woman again. You know he was in a very serious relationship before you, and she really hurt him?”

  “I know. She cheated on him with her ex-boyfriend. We don’t have any secrets.” Liah’s eyes were buried in her coffee mug.

  “I’ve never seen him so in love. Promise me you won’t hurt him,” Gadi added.

  Liah immediately rose from her seat. “Thanks. I need to get back to the room.” She gave him a light kiss on the cheek and left without turning her head. Before entering the elevator, she stole a glance at the lobby and saw the two detectives sitting next to one of the tables with Ronnie by their side.

  “Thanks for agreeing to speak with us. I’m Detective Quincy and this is Detective Rogers,” opened one of them. “As you know, Mr. Christian Lumner was found dead in his hotel room yesterday. He left a brief suicide note which was as mysterious as his death. I understand you’re sitting on the board of directors of the company he worked for, and wondered if you had any piece of information you think might shed some light on this incident.”

  “Just out of curiosity, how did you find out I’m a member of the company’s board of directors?” answered Ronnie with a question of his own, keeping his tone light to mask his deep interest in the answer.

  “From the company’s directors registry. It has your name as the chairman of the board as of October 1st,” Quincy answered willingly.

  Ronnie felt as if he’d just received a baton blow t
o the head. As far as he knew, changing the name of the chairman in a company’s directors registry was a process that took time and would require his signature on the documents. As he had held the position less than a week, his name, along with his forged signature, must have been submitted even before he’d agreed to accept the job.

  “I understand,” he muttered, trying to reorganize his thoughts. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any information that might explain Christian’s suicide. Had I suspected he would perform such an extreme act, I would have alerted the authorities in advance instead of waiting for a disaster to happen.”

  “You have a slightly unusual accent,” Rogers cut him off, wrinkling his forehead with interest.

  Ronnie hated comments like that. Occasionally, Americans he’d meet would drop hints that he didn’t really belong. At least that’s what it felt like. “Yes, I’m Israeli, and even though I’ve been living in the States for more than ten years, I still have my Israeli accent.”

  “Do you know why Mr. Lumner was here?”

  “He flew here to discuss the possibility of raising money for the company with venture capital funds. Unfortunately, he never got the chance to meet with them. I can’t understand why a man with suicidal thoughts would fly from Boston to California only to commit suicide…”

  “The hotel desk clerk who checked him in on the night of his arrival claims that Mr. Lumner received a disturbing call in the middle of the night. Do you happen to know anything about that?”

  “No, I don’t. I suppose the easiest thing would be to look at his phone’s incoming call list and see where the call was from.”

  “At the moment we have no information about the caller’s identity,” came the answer. “The list of recent calls in the cell phone we found in his room had been erased.”

  “Why would someone about to commit suicide delete the list of calls from his phone a moment before the act?” Ronnie stopped for a moment, scratched the back of his head, then muttered, “Are you sure this is a suicide?”