The Red Hotel (Sissy Sawyer Mysteries) (11 page)

‘Where you at, Ms T-Yon? And you Ms Sawyer, correct?’

‘That’s right,’ said Sissy. ‘But why don’t you call me Sissy? I’ve never been one for formality. By the way, I’m sorry about your loss.’

Luther had taken the luggage cart from T-Yon and had started pushing it toward the entrance. It had one squeaky wheel. ‘My
loss
, ma’am?’ he asked.

‘You lost a pet quite recently. A dog, wasn’t it?’

‘That’s right. My old bloodhound, Hooker. Named him for John Lee Hooker. But how’d you know that?’

‘Because you still miss him, that’s why, and if there’s one thing that nobody can ever hide, it’s grieving. Of course it’s always more pronounced if it’s a
person
that you’ve lost, rather than a pet, but it’s grieving all the same.’

‘Well, brush my feet,’ said Luther. ‘You and my Aunt Epiphany ought to get together. She’s all into this mind-reading and fortune-telling and spellificating. She even perdicted the exact day and the exact hour when my grandpa was going to breathe his last, and he did. Five after eleven in the morning on the twenty-first of February, nineteen ninety-seven. I’ll never forget it.’

They walked out into thirty-three degree heat and eighty-percent humidity. There was only one cloud in the sky, a long thin wisp of cirrus that looked as if an angel in tattered robes were sailing past, high above them, heading for someplace far to the north. Luther led them across to the curb, where a white Ford S-Max was parked, with
The Red Hotel
logo on the side of it in sloping red italics.

Luther stowed their luggage, and then they climbed in and drove south on Veterans Memorial Boulevard to join Interstate 110, which would take them into the center of Baton Rouge.

‘This mind-reading stuff,’ said Luther, his eyes floating in his rear-view mirror. ‘Is that something you naturally born with, or can you learn it?’

‘Bit of both, I think,’ Sissy told him. ‘Some people have the facility but never use it because they don’t understand what they’ve got, and some people never use it because they’re scared to. I have to admit, it can be pretty scary at times.’

Luther twisted himself around in the driver’s seat. ‘Scary? Let me tell you, Ms Sissy, when you find out what’s been happening at The Red Hotel, scary don’t even get anywheres close.’

‘Give me a for-instance,’ said Sissy.

‘Well, I’m not sure that I should. I gave my solemn promise to Mister Everett that I wouldn’t discuss with you none of what’s been going on, not till he has the chance to talk to you himself.’

‘All right, please yourself.’

Luther frowned at her for a moment, but then he said, ‘Still and all – I guess it wouldn’t hurt. Like, even the poh-lice are involved right now, so it’s more or less out in the public domain.’

‘OK,’ Sissy told him. ‘But I really would prefer it if you kept your eyes on the road ahead of you while you’re driving. You don’t have to be psychic to predict a fatal rear-end collision.’

Luther turned back round so that he was looking where he was going. ‘I’m sorry. The thing is that I believe that something seriously weird is going on, but Mr Everett is trying his darndest to play it down because we’re all ready for the grand opening tomorrow and he’s worried we might have to postpone it, or even scrub it altogether.’

‘The blood,’ said Sissy.

‘The blood? You know about that, too? How the
heck
you know about that?’

‘I’ve seen it in the cards, Luther. Red, red and more red. When the cards come up with that much red, that means blood. Plain and unequivocal.’

As they circled around the on-ramp to join the interstate, Luther started to tell them all about the bloodstained bedside rug and the smears of blood on the walls of the staircase, and the inexplicable whistling noise, and the disappearance of Ella-mae Grover, with all the blood in the ladies’ restroom.

‘Ella-mae
Grover
?’ said T-Yon, looking at Sissy with her eyes wide.

‘That’s right. Ella-mae Grover. Why you sound so surprised?’

‘Because Sissy saw that name in her Alphabet Cards. And she predicted that somebody called Grover would be all chopped up.’

Luther stared at Sissy in his rear-view mirror. He was still staring at her when a huge red semi thundered past them in the inside lane, blaring its air-horns. Luther swerved, and then straightened up, and said, ‘Sorry –
sorry
! Jesus. I’m real glad that you’ve taken the trouble to come down here, Ms Sissy. I mean that. I think we sorely need the services of somebody like you, and we need them urgent.’

‘Let’s just get to The Red Hotel in one piece, shall we?’ said Sissy. ‘I might be able to contact the spirit world, but I’m not quite ready to go there. Not yet awhile.’

W
hen they arrived outside The Red Hotel, they saw that half of Convention Street along the 200 block was cordoned off by yellow police tapes. Five squad cars were parked facing the curb, as well as a dark blue panel van from the forensic unit, and assorted cars and vans from WAFB 9 and WBRZ television stations and WJBO radio. The sidewalks were crowded with onlookers.

A warm breeze from the Mississippi, only a block to the west, set the police tapes flapping like applause, so that the atmosphere sounded almost festive.

‘So much for playing it down,’ said Sissy.

‘The poh-lice put out a statewide media appeal for Ella-mae,’ Luther told her. ‘And you know what folks are like. If something horrible has happened, they got to come along and gawp, even if they never get to see nothing. Look at them. You’d have thought they had something better to do.’

A police officer unwound one of the tapes for them so that they could drive through and park on Lafayette Street, next to the hotel’s side entrance. Luther heaved himself out of the driver’s seat and led them inside. They crossed the lobby, where police and reporters were milling around, as well as several unhappy-looking guests, and made their way to Everett’s office. Compared to the street outside, the inside of the hotel was icy cold, and Sissy couldn’t help herself from giving one quick shiver.

Everett was talking to Detective Garrity when Sissy and T-Yon and Luther came into his office. His red necktie was loose and his shirt was crumpled and his hair was even more mussed up than usual. His eyes looked puffy, too, as if he hadn’t slept well.

He came around his desk and gave T-Yon a hug and a kiss.

‘So,
pischouette,
you came here anyhow! As if I didn’t know you would!’ Then he turned to Sissy and said, ‘Hi there. Welcome to The Red Hotel. You must be my sister’s boyfriend’s psychic aunt.’

‘Got it in one,’ said Sissy, holding out her hand. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Everett, regardless of the circumstances. You can call me Sissy. It’s easier than saying “my sister’s boyfriend’s psychic aunt” every time.’

Detective Garrity came over and clasped her hand too. ‘Detective Garrity, Baton Rouge Police Department,’ he announced himself. ‘Mr Savoie here tells me you’re something of a fortune-teller-slash-clairvoyant-slash-medium type.’

‘That’s roughly about right,’ said Sissy. ‘One of those fortune-teller-slash-clairvoyant-slash-medium types that you’re extremely suspicious of, considering your past dealings with such people.’

Detective Garrity’s little black turtle eyes seemed to shrink to pinpoints. ‘Oh, yeah. And how would you happen to know that?’

‘Because I’m a fortune-teller-slash-clairvoyant-medium type, and because I’m very good at reading people’s auras. Everybody has an aura, and the moment you saw me and realized who I was, Detective Garrity, your aura went as dark as the sun going down.’

‘Oh yeah. And what did you surmise was the significance of that?’

‘It told me very explicitly that you don’t hold psychics in very high regard, and the most likely reason for
that
is because sometime in the not-too-distant past you have had an unpleasant or humiliating experience involving a psychic. Or fortune-teller-slash-whatever.’

Detective Garrity stared at Sissy with those little pinpoint eyes for a very long moment. Then he gave her a very thin smile and said, ‘Good. You’re good. Even if you’re right, and I don’t hold psychics in very high regard.’

T-Yon said, ‘Luther told us what’s been happening here. I really think that Sissy can help you to find out who’s responsible. Or
what
.’

Everett glanced sharply at Luther, but Luther pulled a face and said, ‘They was going to find out sooner rather than later, so why not? Trying to keep a lid on it ain’t going to make one smidgen of difference, is it?’

‘You don’t think so? Detective Garrity has just been telling me that we may have to evacuate the entire hotel.’

‘I’m afraid that’s right,’ said Detective Garrity. ‘Even though we haven’t discovered any cadavers yet, the amount of blood that we’ve encountered makes it highly probable that we’re dealing with more than one act of homicide. It would be foolhardy in the extreme to allow guests to remain here in the hotel until we know for sure.’

‘Terrific, isn’t it?’ said Everett. ‘We haven’t even officially opened and they’re closing us down.’

‘How many guests are we talking about?’ asked T-Yon.

‘Fifty-seven. But the last time I checked we had one hundred three booked in for tomorrow, and it could be more by now. Every single one of whom we will have to contact and tell that they can’t stay here for our gala opening ceremony, complete with The Ralph Dickerson Jazz Ensemble and The Back Bayou Zydeco Quintet and enough crawfish to feed the entire population of Baton Rouge for the next six months, as well as appearances by his honor, Mayor Dolan, and his delectable daughter, Lolana, who happens to be Miss Teen Baton Rouge, and a stand-up comedy routine by the very pricey Jerry Lake, who will expect us to pay him whether he appears or not.’

‘Don’t look on the black side just yet awhile,’ said Detective Garrity. ‘Right now we’re regarding the entire hotel as a crime scene, but once the forensics people have finished checking for bloodstains and fingerprints and any other circumstantial evidence, we may be able to give you a partial all-clear. For the guest rooms and the public areas, anyhow.’

At that moment, Bella slid back her window and said, ‘Excuse me, boss. Sorry to interrupt but I’ve just had a call from Nesta at reception. She has at least thirty guests lining up to check out and cancel the rest of their reservations, and demanding a refund.’

‘Shit,’ said Everett.

‘Looks like you won’t have to evacuate the hotel after all,’ said Detective Garrity. ‘Looks like your guests are doing the evacuating for you.’

Everett sat down behind his desk. ‘That’s it. We’re finished. We’re totally wiped out. How the hell are we going to get over something like this?’

Luther said, ‘Plenty of hotels have murders in them, and they don’t go out of business.’

‘Oh yeah? Name one.’

Sissy came up to his desk and said, ‘I imagine that you’ve searched the whole building?’

Everett looked up at her as if he were tempted to say something deeply sarcastic, but then he said, as courteously as he could, ‘Yes, Sissy. You did say your name was “Sissy”, didn’t you? Yes, we’ve searched the whole building. First of all our security team went through it, and now the police have gone through it, and what they found was absolutely zilch.’

‘All the same, there
is
something here.’

‘What do you mean? Something like what?’

Detective Garrity was leaning against the filing cabinet with his arms folded and a toothpick in his mouth. He took out the toothpick and said, ‘I think Ms Sissy here is talking about a spirit, if I’m not mistaken. That’s what I was told when I was out looking for a woman who was supposed to have been strangled in a house on Spain Street in the Garden District.’

‘A
spirit
?’

‘That’s right. There was no trace whatsoever of a cadaver, but this psychic gentleman swore to me that her spirit was still in the house, and that he could hear her talking to him. On the basis of that and some circumstantial forensics we arrested her former husband and charged him with homicide. Whereupon the strangled woman herself appeared at the precinct and said that she had never felt healthier.’

Sissy turned and gave him a smile. ‘I’m sorry for what happened to you, Detective. I’ll admit that there are plenty of so-called psychics who simply take advantage of people’s need and gullibility. But there are some sensitives who really know their stuff.’

‘So how do we know which kind are you?’

‘You don’t. Not until I get results. It’s the same for detectives, wouldn’t you say? You get your highly competent detectives but you also get your so-called detectives who mostly get by on bluster and bluff. I know. I used to be married to a cop.’

Detective Garrity plainly didn’t like that response. Still leaning against the filing cabinet, he said, ‘When you say “results”, what kind of “results” are you talking about?’

‘I’m talking about finding out what’s going on here, and as quickly as possible, before anybody else gets hurt. If people have been murdered here, we need to know who did it, and why, and how they managed to get away with it.’

‘And how do you propose to do that, exactly?’

Sissy turned back to Everett. ‘With your permission, I’d like to search through this entire hotel until I’ve found what I’m looking for.’

‘You mean like spooky voices in the walls,’ said Detective Garrity. ‘And what makes you think that I’m going to authorize you to wander around a crime scene listening for ghosts?’

He cupped one hand to his ear, and said, ‘Hallo. Is there anybody there?’ He meant it as a joke, but his voice was so flat and his eyes were so humorless that nobody so much as grunted.

E
verett took Sissy and T-Yon into the Showboat Saloon so that they could have a drink and something to eat. The saloon was decorated like the interior of a turn-of-the-century paddle steamer, with a wide staircase and a galleried landing running all the way around. Eight sparkling chandeliers were suspended from the ceiling and the room was furnished with red plush banquettes. There was a long mahogany bar with engraved mirrors behind it and bottles of every kind of liquor. Sissy could almost imagine Clark Gable coming down the stairs with a white bow-tie and a cigar.