“Tell me again who this is we’re going to meet,” I urged.
“I already told you, his name is Elmore Frye. Since the death of his partner, he’s now in sole control of Slaughter and Frye Electronics, the company I’ve been consulting for the last several months. He was kind enough to invite us to his company’s New Year’s Eve party.”
“And he’s rich?”
“Trust me, he’s loaded. I’m hoping to make a good impression to drum up more business.”
“And what is my purpose here?”
“You’re my date. Besides, he’s rumored to be fond of beautiful women. So, be on your best behavior.”
“Gotcha.”
The elevator stopped so gracefully I hardly felt it. When the doors opened, Sterling led the way across an elegant foyer to one of four doors where he knocked. Receiving no answer, he waited a lengthy duration before knocking again with added force.
“Yeah, who the hell is it?” a sloppy voice called from behind the door.
“Security, sir. I’m here with Mr. Lincoln and his guest,” Sterling announced.
“Alex!” We heard the voice blare before the door flew open to reveal its source.
A short man with unfortunate orange curly hair staggered from the room with a drink in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. Seeing Alex, he stowed his cigarette between his lips and reached out to shake his hand.
“Alex, my boy. You made it,” the man mumbled around the butt in his mouth.
“Mr. Frye, it’s good to see you again,” Alex said while his entire arm was being shaken vigorously.
“Please, call me Elmore, my boy. Mr. Frye was my father.”
Though the man who stood in the doorway was short, he was still taller than me. The face that turned to consider me through a cloud of rapidly accumulating smoke was in its early fifties, going on eighty. The nose was bulbous and even redder than the surrounding cheeks. The eyes were rheumy and unfocused. It was obvious that I was looking at the face of a seasoned alcoholic who was already three sheets to the wind. But a happy drunk it would appear. The man’s rotund body was swathed in an impeccably tailored tuxedo that put Alex’s rented affair to shame.
“And who might this lovely young lady be?” he slurred, eyeing me with an openly lascivious leer.
“Elmore, I’d like you to meet my wife, Chloe,” Alex announced.
“How do you do, Mr. Frye?” I said, extending my hand.
“Elmore, please,” he corrected, dropping his half-smoked cigarette to the tiles of the foyer and taking my hand gently in his.
“Elmore,” I agreed.
While Sterling bent to retrieve the smoldering butt, Elmore bent to put his lips to the back of my hand. When he straightened, he was looking me square in the eyes with a broad smile on his lips. I felt myself shiver at his attentions and pulled my hand back, possibly a bit too abruptly.
“Charmed,” Elmore announced.
Elmore seemed to have forgotten where he was entirely as he stood considering me. When he began to lick his lips, I couldn’t help but look away.
“Just how much longer do we have to wait for this friend of yours to arrive?” a haughty voice called loudly in an English accent from inside the suite.
The owner of the voice soon appeared at the door. He was a slim good-looking gentleman in his mid-forties, also wearing a well-tailored tuxedo, who stepped forward to stand impatiently behind Elmore.
“Oh, so you’ve finally arrived, have you?” the man announced, seeing Alex and me standing in the doorway. “It’s about time. You’re late.”
Naturally, I took an instant dislike to him. Elmore merely chuckled at the man’s arrogance before announcing him.
“Alex, Chloe, I’d like you to meet Mr. Reginald Ellis,” Elmore said, stepping aside to make room in the doorway. “Reggie is a prospective buyer for my deceased friend and partner’s half of the firm.”
“How do you do, Mr. Ellis?” Alex said, politely extending his hand.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said to Elmore, ignoring Ellis’ disdainful look at my off-the-rack evening gown.
“How nice of you to say so, Chloe,” Elmore said, acknowledging my words with grace well beyond his sobriety. It had to be habitual, maybe taught to him by an old-fashioned grandparent.
“I suppose we can finally leave for the party now,” Ellis said, ignoring Alex’s offer of a handshake.
“All we need are the women,” Elmore replied.
Thank the Lord I wouldn’t be the only woman amongst these three, I thought as we continued to stand in the foyer.
“How rude of me,” Elmore finally acknowledged. “Won’t you please step inside?”
Ellis grudgingly made room for us to enter. The suite was massive, composed of a large central seating area and bar with additional rooms leading off to either side. The carpet was white, the upholstery on the sofa and chairs a pleasing pastel. Rich wood trim and tasteful print wallpaper adorned the walls which were lit with sconces. I stood in the entryway, hoping that I wasn’t tracking dirt on the beautiful plush carpet, while Ellis wandered off bellowing after the women.
“Girls! We’re ready to leave now! Won’t you please drag yourselves away from your mirrors so that we can go?” Ellis called, strolling confidently to the center of the room.
I couldn’t help but notice the spectacular night view of downtown Seattle afforded by the floor-to-ceiling windows lining one wall of the suite.
“Wow,” I exclaimed. “What a beautiful sight.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Elmore said. “I’m afraid of heights, so I try not to look.”
“If you’re afraid of heights, why are you in the penthouse suite?” I blurted before I had a chance to think better of the inappropriate question.
“Because it’s the best,” Elmore responded with an inebriated grin. “Now, can I offer you a drink, my dear?” he added, stepping to the bar to refresh his own libation.
“Elmore, we don’t have time for this,” Ellis barked in an attempt to orchestrate a speedy exit. “Girls, won’t you please come out now?”
The girls stepped out of their respective bedroom doors at nearly the same time. My eyes opened wide in awe. One was a middle-aged woman dressed in a beautiful full-length, off-the-shoulder cream colored silk evening dress with chiffon ruffles and a rose adorning the neckline. My attention shot to the other side of the room where a beautiful young woman dressed in a short, tight-fitting black sequined party dress appeared. The two women were breathtaking: one statuesque and elegant and the other young and exuding pure sex appeal.
“Alex, Chloe, I’d like you to meet my date for the evening, Miss Tiffany Swan,” Elmore announced.
Rather than the middle-aged woman presenting herself, the young woman stepped forward, directing her full attention to Alex while extending her hand.
“Alex, I’m so glad you came,” she said, beaming a welcoming smile. “Now we can catch up properly.”
“Ms. Swan, I’d like you to meet my wife, Chloe,” Alex said uncomfortably.
“Alex, we’re too familiar for you to call me Ms. Swan. Call me Tiffany, you silly boy.”
Alex glanced nervously in my direction. I raised a questioning eyebrow in response.
“Why, Alex, you said your wife was pretty, but I had no idea.” I instantly liked this girl. “So, tell me, how many months pregnant are you, Chloe?” And just like that, I despised the tarted-up trollop.
I accepted her hand anyway as we exchanged false smiles.
“I’m not pregnant,” I clarified, trying to keep from growling the response.
“Oh, I’m sorry. My mistake,” she said, making it obvious through her tone that she was neither sorry nor had it been a mistake.
I started to squeeze her hand.
“Tiffany Swan, what a lovely name. Is that your stage name or your name when you get off the pole?”
Tiffany started to squeeze back as her smile faltered.
“In any case, I’m s
o glad I invited you to the party this evening, Alex,” Tiffany continued. “Otherwise, I would never have had a chance to meet your chubby little wife.”
“She invited you to the party?” I almost choked, keeping hold of the young woman’s hand as I turned my head to face Alex.
Alex looked flustered and tongue-tied. He could apparently find nothing to say in his defense. So, he wisely clammed up.
“Why yes. Didn’t Alex tell you that we used to date?” Tiffany added.
After having plunged the knife into my heart, Tiffany was obviously deriving great pleasure in twisting the handle. I redirected my attention back to her.
“Don’t you mean that he used to babysit you?”
“Oh no, we were definitely dating, if you catch my drift.”
“I don’t think that one date constitutes dating,” Alex finally managed to blurt out.
“Oh, so one date was all it took? What a surprise,” I concluded.
“Now, now, women,” Elmore interjected, walking to our sides.
It required Elmore’s intervention to break our grasp. In the aftermath, my hand hurt like the dickens. I flexed it several times to get the blood circulating again. I hoped that Tiffany’s hand hurt at least twice as much. We glared at each other while trying not to rub our hands until I was distracted by the other woman in the room.
“Alex, how do you do?” the woman said, grasping his hand. “My name is Claire Ellis. Please, call me Claire.”
“How do you do, Claire?”
This woman conducted herself with grace and elegance. She was the antithesis of the young woman who for some reason seemed determined to humiliate me. And she instantly commanded my full attention and respect.
“Hello, Chloe, I’m so pleased to meet you,” she said, taking my hand.
“I’m pleased to meet you too, Claire,” I replied, flashing a genuine smile this time.
Under her influence, the tension in the room began to dissipate, that is until her husband chose to speak again.
“Now, if the drama is over, perhaps can we finally head downstairs to the party?”
“Yes, Reggie. We’re going straight away,” Elmore assured him.
“And stop calling me Reggie, dammit! After all, I am a bloody lord,” Ellis retorted.
“Yes, Lord Ellis,” Elmore smirked, bowing low, and at the depth of his bow sneaking another sip from his drink.
As I stepped through the door into the foyer, I was none too surprised to find Sterling standing guard outside the suite.
“You have a great deal of explaining to do when we get downstairs,” I snarled at Alex under my breath.
“Yes, I know, and I will,” he whispered back to me harshly.
As we gathered in the foyer, the elder gentlemen helping their women on with their animal furs, Sterling stepped to the elevator and pressed the call button. Again, the doors opened instantly as if they’d been awaiting his command. I was not terribly surprised to turn once in the elevator and find that Elmore had brought his drink along. I only hoped that he didn’t light up as well in such a confined space.
With the elevator already crowded, Sterling was left standing outside the doors to wait for the next circuit. I felt someone jab me in the ribs and looked to find that it was Tiffany who was standing beside me. I scowled at her before moving aside, closer to the control console.
“Won’t you step inside and join us?” Elmore offered to the security guard.
“No, sir. It’s already too crowded. I’d best wait,” Sterling replied.
“Get inside, you daft fool. We’re already late as it is,” Ellis barked.
Sterling stepped through the doors to join us. Packed like sardines, it was left to me to press the “L” button for the lobby. The doors closed dutifully and the car proceeded to descend smoothly and purposefully. That is until we were no more than a quarter of the way down, at which point it stopped with a sudden lurch. We all waited in silent anticipation for it to begin moving again, but nothing happened.
“Oh damn, what now?” Ellis wanted to know.
“If you’d press the lobby button again, ma’am, possibly we’d continue our descent,” Sterling suggested.
I pressed the “L” button again, several times, but to no affect.
“Wonderful. So now we’re stuck,” Ellis observed.
We waited, but still nothing happened. Ellis was right, we were stuck.
“Would you please pass me the emergency phone,” Sterling suggested. “It’s behind that panel there. Just press the door and it will open.”
I pressed the small door which did pop open to reveal a telephone handset. I grabbed it and reached to hand it across to Sterling. He put it to his ear but looked dissatisfied with what he heard.
“No signal,” he announced. “The line is dead.”
“What are you talking about?” Ellis burst out, grabbing the receiver out of Sterling’s hand. “Let me try.”
Apparently a brief listen was all it took to confirm Sterling’s assertion.
“Is there some sort of on button?” Ellis asked, pulling the handset away from his ear to examine it.
I looked and saw nothing in the opening in the wall the handset had come from. Ellis handed the phone back to me and I hung it in its storage compartment.
“Perhaps you should try your cell phone, darling,” Claire suggested.
“Good idea, dear,” Ellis replied, reaching into his coat pocket for his mobile.
“I don’t think you’re likely to get reception here in the elevator,” Sterling unwisely pointed out.
This prompted a mass search through coats and handbags as everyone who had one pulled out their cell phone. I’d left mine in our motel room, so I looked to Alex’s phone with hope.
“Damn! He’s right,” Ellis announced, alternately examining his phone display and holding the phone to his ear.
“I get nothing,” Alex concurred.
“Me neither,” Elmore agreed. “Did I mention that I’m afraid of heights?”
That’s when the elevator phone attached to the wall rang, interrupting our common despair with a brief glimmer of hope. I grabbed the handset after the second ring and held it to my ear rather than passing it to Sterling.
“Hello?” I said into the now active line.
“Fenton Slaughter was murdered,” a male voice said. “His murderer is someone in the elevator. You have until midnight to unmask the villain.”
The line went dead. I pulled the receiver from my ear and looked to my fellow roommates in dismay.
“Who was it?” Sterling wanted to know. “What did they have to say?”
“Are they coming to rescue us?” Elmore asked with fear and tension showing in his voice.
“I don’t know who it was,” I told them. “It was a male voice.”
“When are they coming to get us?” Ellis demanded.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, what did he say?”
“He told me that Fenton Slaughter was murdered. He said that the murderer is someone in this elevator. He warned that we have until midnight to identify that person.”
My words prompted a round of nervous titters and excited murmuring.
“Surely, you’re joking,” Elmore said, sipping at his drink.
“That’s got to be it,” Ellis agreed. “She’s having us on.”
“My wife doesn’t joke about such matters,” Alex said in my defense.
“Fenton Slaughter murdered?” Elmore said, this time in tones of dismay.
The elevator restarted its descent with a sudden flight of free fall. In fact, the drop was so sudden that I felt my feet leave the floor. Our descent didn’t last long before the elevator stopped with a sudden jerk and a loud squeal, sending everyone to the floor. I bashed my knees on the hard marble tiles and fell backward onto Alex, which cushioned the rest of my body. The others were sprawled close beside me. I heard panicked crying and thought it might be one of the other women, but it was Elmore. It took a while t
o untangle ourselves and rise to our feet, at which time we began to ascertain our condition.
“Is everyone alright?” Sterling asked.
“I spilled my drink,” Elmore complained, now smelling even stronger of gin than when he’d entered the elevator.
“What kind of hotel are you running here?” Ellis demanded, helping his wife to her feet.
“Sir, I assure you that whatever is going on has nothing to do with standard hotel procedure,” Sterling let everyone know. “Our elevators are serviced monthly.”
“It’s a phantom,” Elmore declared, “like in that story. He’s out to get us.”
“Get serious, Elmore!”
“I think that one thing is for certain,” I interjected. “If we don’t satisfy this phantom’s demands by midnight, the next time this elevator drops it may not stop until it hits bottom.”
There was a brief silence as everyone considered this sobering possibility.
“You don’t seriously believe that’s likely?” Ellis challenged.
The silence that followed was proof enough that everyone in the elevator agreed that I might be right.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Eleven o’clock,” Alex answered.
“Oh, my God. We’re all going to die,” Elmore squealed and then started to whimper.
Turning to his date for the evening, Miss Smarty Pants, Elmore nuzzled his way into her arms to be consoled. I looked to the others to gauge their reactions to the phantom caller’s words, but saw nothing that made me think “ah-ha,” he or she knows something. With nothing else to do, little to go on, and little time to find the answer to our caller’s riddle, I decided to start asking questions.
“So, who was Fenton Slaughter?” I asked, beginning my investigation at square one.
“My partner,” Elmore moaned, “and possibly the sweetest man I ever knew.”
“This is ridiculous,” Ellis declared. “You can’t actually believe that one of us killed Fenton Slaughter. Slaughter died Christmas Eve in a freak accident, falling from the balcony of the penthouse suite in this hotel. The police report concluded that he was alone at the time of the accident.”
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