Sudden Vacancies

by James Kipling

  All of the signs pointed to a homicide.

  To further confirm those suspicions, no paper money was found in his wallet. While his credit cards were all intact, it appeared there was some stress in his wallet. This might have been where some dollar bills were placed. It’s unclear as to how much money was missing, or whether there had been money in his wallet upon leaving the bar, however the waitress at the bar seemed to remember a significant amount of cash present when he paid his tab. It was clear that something was amiss. Either way, no prints were found on it, outside of Saul’s own.

  Mr. Brandon may have had plenty of money with him though; after all, prostitutes and bar bills were anything but cheap around this town. The best theory was a theft gone awry. But that still left the problem with the entry.

  Seeing Kevin James enter the employee lounge, Randall motioned him over to the table he shared with Tina. “Hey, Kevin, I hear the police questioned you about being the last person to see Mr. Brandon alive.”

  Kevin sat down and scowled, “Yeah, like I had anything to do with the guy’s death. He signed the room service ticket, showed me where to put the tray and I left. He didn’t even tip me he was so drunk. Not that they usually do.”

  According to the hotel’s security footage, a person did enter room 915 the night in question to provide room service. However, that person was found to have used standard protocol when serving the client-even in a seemingly sleazy hotel!-and was seen leaving the hotel room through the same door shortly after his arrival.

  Randall grimaced, all employees secretly despised hotel guests taking them for granted and not showing their appreciation with even a small token of thanks. “I hear he didn’t even get to eat his last meal, poor sucker.”

  The steak dinner delivered to his room was not even touched. The steak the attendant left was also found to be rare. The order was specifically for a medium-well done steak, but the food delivered to Mr. Brandon’s room was very rare. Seeing, as the food had not been touched prior to death, the confusion over the order was viewed as non-consequential.

  Tina looked at Randall and said, “You shouldn’t talk ill about the dead. Maybe he was a nice guy.”

  Kevin shook his head, “The way I hear it, he was a regular with the talent on the next block. He came to town at least once a year and hooked up with someone different each time, if you pardon the pun. They didn’t really mind though.”

  “Well, I still think it’s sad that some guy is dead, you know?” Tina replied. “So he paid for sex, there must be more to it.”

  Kevin and Randall both nodded their heads. They didn’t care so much about the dead guy, as the death had caused them extra work and aggravation

  The police department was unable to determine that a homicide had been committed due to the lack of evidence, lack of a weapon, and lack of any witnesses. The case was put upon the shelf, along with other suspicious deaths, and the news media were told that it appeared Mr. Brandon had died from an accident, complicated by excessive intoxication. Mr. Brandon’s blood alcohol content was almost three times the legal limit.

  Two days after the police report was released, Mr. Brandon’s family filed a lawsuit against Jim’s bar for negligence. The suit was filed in response to eyewitness testimony and belief that the bar clearly did not do enough to limit the amount of alcohol he had consumed that night. Although the bar did have a strong policy of discouraging drunken driving, there was the belief by the prosecution that they could have done more to prevent him from drinking excessively.

  In addition, the family filed a lawsuit against the Paradise Hotel. While the exact claims were hazy, the family’s primary complaint was for not having adequate security cameras installed to view all areas and floors of their hotel at all times. There were a number of different security cameras all around the hotel, but no security cameras inside any of the hotel rooms. The family complained, and with hindsight some justification, that the rooms should have had security features installed.

  The hotel management strongly disagreed. Spying on guests was not something that the Paradise Hotel wanted to become known for. Especially since all hotel employees were aware that certain activities took place in the rooms their guests would not want made public. The high volume of people watching pornographic content each month attested to that fact.

  Chapter 3

  Sandra Jones was in her office the next day. Andrew James, Kevin’s older brother and head of hotel security, sat to one side while musician Bruce Andrews sat to the other side. Andrew was just finishing his security shift, while Bruce was about to take the stage in the restaurant, known as Blue Plate. The two men had become fast friends and included Sandra to their eclectic mix upon her arrival. As had become standard, they all met for a quick drink in her office during the shift change to discuss the day’s events.

  “I don’t get it,” Andrew said. “I mean, there’s no way they can win the suit against us, right? After all, we can’t monitor every nook and cranny of this property without stepping all over some civil liberties. And we would be looking at spending tens of millions of dollars to even attempt such a thing. Same again?”

  “Don’t mind if I do. It’s not like we can have every hotel room bugged,” Bruce added. “If you were watching smut in your room or whatever then you probably wouldn’t be all that comfortable if someone taped you doing it, right?”

  “Taped? That’s a bit old fashioned, isn’t it?” Sandra laughed. “This is obviously something that I’m not used to either. It’s clear that we can’t do everything.”

  “I say we still need to make sure we defend ourselves well. If we’re found liable in this guy’s death, then our bottom line is going to be hit hard. I doubt we’ll be in trouble, but you can never tell, some lawyer might end up finding some loophole or other obscure law that will go against us. That is what some lawyers are trained to do, after all. I don’t want to lose the momentum we’ve got now because of someone chasing us down for money,” Andrew finished.

  Sandra was noticeably shocked. “Someone died, maybe murdered even, and you’re talking about liability!”

  “I know it seems heartless, but we must make sure if we’re not to be sued, we cover ourselves.”

  As Sandra looked at the newspaper covering the story, she noticed there wasn’t anything in the story that appeared to be incriminating the hotel. She was happy for that fact, but surprised as the media normally jumped to conclusions and used conjecture as a normal protocol.

  Still, the fear of what might go on was uncertain.

  “What are we going to do about our security protocols?” Andrew said. “We’ve gotten a few cases in the past where we’ve found illegal drug dealings here and there but never anything as serious as this.”

  “Well, that’s where we really need to look at what we’re already doing and see where there are avenues for improvement, or possibly highways. We need to be able to tell the media we’re doing something,” replied Sandra. As the owner of the hotel, the media had posed questions about new protocols several times over the last few days. She had simply told them they were looking at their current policies, trying to find areas that could be improved upon.

  “I just hope that the police don’t shove it on a shelf and just consider it closed. I mean, they say they don’t have any leads, and I hope they looked at everything.” Andrew stretched and stood up from the chair, preparing to head home for some sleep. It had been a really long night and he hoped he could stay awake long enough to make the drive home.

  “Why does it matter, if the police shelve it or not?” Bruce asked.

  “You know what they say, ‘bad things happen in pairs.’ Or, something like that. You know, once one thing happens, something else is sure to follow it up and it’s usually much worse. Maybe I’m just being too pessimistic. I’m always analyzing things too much. If I keep on doing that with everything, I’ll go insane.” Andrew nodded his head at Sandra and put his hand on the doorknob.

  “You probably are.”<
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  Looking back at Bruce over his shoulder, Andrew gave him a wry smile and shook his head. He was too tired to hash words with Bruce today.

  But Andrew may have been right this time around. Even as he headed for home, the firestorm was starting to brew.

  Chapter 4

  “Why us?” Sandra was looking at a headline. “There has to be a reason. I know it’s only one death and all, but I don’t want this place to be ‘that place where people go to die’. I can’t just let people assume that this is a dangerous place.”

  Sandra Jones was a relatively humble hotel owner, and as they say a lot to be humble about. As the new owner/operator of the Paradise Hotel for the last six months, she’d been adamant on making sure the initial mission of the hotel was kept intact, rather than improving the place.

  “It’s all about letting people feel comfortable enough to do whatever they want to, isn’t it?”

  Sandra was very interested in helping people relax and enjoy their time away from home. It had become her personal mission and the reason she was now the owner of the hotel. Through various internships, she learned the tricks of the trade on how to operate a hotel and manage staff, all while taking care of people.

  When she was growing up, she always noticed how her parents would do so many positive things for other people. They’d do chores for them, fix things, and support all their causes.

  It turned out, that the things her parents got in return were just as great. Not only did they receive the love and support of others in the community, but they also got help when they needed it. She followed this up in later life.

  In addition, she always worked hard to satisfy the people who worked alongside her at the hotel.

  When she’d first received the news about a guest dying, her inner warning system had gone on high alert. Even though the police had found no evidence of foul play, she still had a gut feeling that something wrong was happening at her hotel. She couldn’t imagine that things could get worse.

  During one of her frequent stops by the reception desk several days later, she and Sally Jefferson started talking about ways to encourage more visitors to stay at the hotel. The current media attention had only slightly dampened hotel reservations, and luckily, none of the convention groups had called and cancelled.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she commented to Sally, “There has to be some way we can market ourselves better. We don’t want people to immediately think about Mr. Brandon when they hear the words Paradise Hotel. After all, just about every hotel in the world has dealt with people dying in their hotel rooms. You could die in your sleep (or during dinner - or whatever) no matter where you go! You’re not immune to dying just because you’re in a hotel.”

  Sally nodded and gave it some thought. She wasn’t all that concerned about the death hurting business either. She just felt that it was a normal thing that every hotel had to deal with. She had the confidence that the hotel staff had done nothing to cause Mr. Brandon’s death.

  Sally Jefferson was just one of the many people that Sandra truly cared about. Sally had been hired in 2002 to be the hotel’s main receptionist. She had worked in the hospitality and management field for several years before coming to the Paradise. Her employment file stated the main reason she was offered the job was based upon her positive outlook and sense of responsibility for meeting the needs of everyone who stayed at the hotel.

  She was a font of information, as she saw practically everything that had come through the front doors of the hotel in the last few years. Sally helped to book appointments for politicians, rock stars, athletes, and many other celebrities who chose to stay at the Paradise when performing at the Arena.

  Many employees would have fought the changing technology, but not Sally. She had enthusiastically embraced the online reservation system, saying it gave her more time to focus on the guests.

  Sandra appreciated Sally’s loyalty and candor. “If you think of any new angle we could try to get more business, be sure to let me know.” Sandra gave Sally a grin.

  Sally watched her for a minute, and then let her thoughts turn to the hotel and surrounding area. The block outside the hotel had changed in recent years, and not for the good. The changes had occurred slowly enough that everything seemed fairly commonplace now. The streetwalkers who occupied the corners to the west of the hotel were “balanced” out by the street thugs and drug dealers on the east side. Nothing was blatant, and if you weren’t looking for them, you might drive right past, never knowing they were there.

  But to someone like Sally who had been around for a while, she noticed. She just chose not to take the changes very seriously.

  “I know there are plenty of sexual favors and other things going on outside the hotel, but I don’t really think it’s much of a problem,” Sally said to Sandra. “We have a certain class of clientele, and I think most of the hookers’ clients are probably either locals, slumming from the suburbs, or guests visiting from out of town.

  “It’s not like we’re one of those sex motels you’d see in Brazil or anything.”

  “Shame, we might have got more residents,” said Sandra with a smile.

  “Most of the time, you have to make a reservation early if you really want to stay here. Unless you have loads of money, that is. Most nights, the only vacant rooms we have are the suites and penthouse apartments. We’re not as expensive as the hotels around Capitol Square, but the rates up there are enough to discourage your average working class guest.”

  Of course, it was important to look right. If the inside of the hotel looked sleazy, or the front doors weren’t as elaborate, then she figured she might see more men showing up with scantily clad women just looking to rent a room for a few hours.

  It didn’t matter you could hire one room for more than one client in that manner. She didn’t want them.

  Sandra nodded her agreement, having personally seen the types of hotels Sally was referring to. They gave off an aura of sleaziness and she vowed that if the Paradise Hotel ever went down that path, she’d burn it down and save the city the embarrassment of such a plight on humanity. Maybe that would be going over the top but still...

  Taking a list of the future reservations with her, she told Sally, “I’m going to go check in with Carla and see if she is all right. She was in full blown panic mode just before lunch.”

  Sally had heard the Italian chef cursing and complaining several times the day before. Evidently, there had been a mix up with the ordering system and the hotel’s order had been taken to the Arena, while their order had been delivered to Chef Carla D’Angelo. To say that she was less than impressed with five cases of buffalo wings, 200 cases of French fries, and a truckload of beer, would be an understatement.

  Her Italian heritage had shined as she told the drivers of their errors and encouraged them to do a better job next time around. Sally chuckled to herself, she had no idea what Chef Carla had said to the deliverymen, but figured it was probably a good idea that both she and the drivers had been in the dark.

  There was never a dull moment around the Paradise, that’s for sure.

  Chapter 5

  Sally’s thoughts turned back to Mr. Saul Brandon. She did not see anything unusual about the person when he checked into the hotel. Then again, he checked in about five hours prior to the reported time of his death, and he was sober at the time. It was clear to her that he had left the safety of the hotel, looking to get drunk and for someone-a woman-to share the experience with. It’s weird how something like that can happen right out of the blue,” Sally had remarked to Sandra when she first heard about the death. Suggestions were made: Could try to keep track having guests sign out and surreptitiously inquiring as to where they might be headed, for example.

  Sally had initially thought it might be a good idea, that way they could possibly prevent similar circumstances in the future. However, she went back to her traditional way of thinking soon enough.

  “I honestly think that nothing else is going to
happen. Just don’t think about it,” Sally told Sandra upon hearing her comment on needing to change their protocols. “We can’t let one isolated thing get in the way of how we do things.”

  *****

  As for Andrew James, his responsibility for security at the hotel was very strong and he’d taken steps to ensure the hotel and its guests would be safe and sound at all times. He personally believed that the man who died was clearly drunk and stupid, and what had probably befallen him was what he deserved.

  Andrew had been working as the head of security for the hotel for nearly a decade before the incident. He was a simple man with a desire to protect those who stayed at the hotel, but he also had very strong feelings in regards to protecting the guest’s civil liberties.

  “If I were to tell you there were security cameras placed inside your hotel room as well as in the bathrooms and even in the changing area outside the pool, would you want to stay there?” he asked Sandra. “I bet you’d say no.”

  Sandra nodded, but before she could comment, Andrew continued. “The thing is, while security is important, everyone has the right to privacy. I mean, you have people doing all sorts of things here that they’d want to keep private. People are taking their clothes off and showering, lying naked around the beds at night, and even beating off to porn every now and then.

  “And let’s not forget some of the perversions that people might have...”

  Sandra hurried to get a word in edgewise, “I agree with you…”

  But Andrew was on a roll. “And let’s not forget some of those fetish things that some people are into. I don’t think people will want to stay at a hotel where they know that every single thing is being spied upon. I mean, think about that kinky group that holds their toy convention here every year. I don’t want to know what happens in those people’s rooms each night and I don’t think we should have to force our security personnel to monitor it either.