The Salvation Shark, Chapter 20

Agent Martin

I pull my black Cadillac in front of the hotel I was told Anton Lazarus stayed at last night. It’s enormous, the kind I normally find him at. I would have figured he would try to lay low again, like the night before. I guess he can’t avoid laps of luxury long.

I get out of the car and go through the front doors. A pair of bellboys are telling me I can’t park my car in front of the hotel, but I flash my badge and they back off. A girl barely out of her teens is waiting at the front desk.

“Can I help you sir?” she asks.

I flash my badge and say, “My name is Special Agent John Martin, and I’m looking for a man who stayed here last night, an Anton Lazarus.” I’ve found it amazing how showing a badge will loosen a person. The petty crimes this girl commits means nothing to me. I could care less about the pot she smokes and occasionally sells. No point in snaring a rabbit when your hands are almost on the wolf. People are so eager to keep the eye of an authority figure from focusing on them, they will tell you anything you want about someone else.

She plays the keyboard like a piano, furrowing her brow. “He stayed her last night,” she says, staring at the screen, her eyebrows still scrunched. “It says he paid for tonight as well, but already turned in his card... He must have checked out too late and they charged him for an extra night.”

Did he know I was coming? “I need to see his room,” I say, putting my badge back in the pocket of my brown trench coat. “Is someone in there? This is very important.”

She falters. “I... I can’t really...”

I lean in close. “Look,” I say softly. “Anton Lazarus is a very dangerous criminal. He had with him a young girl, and her life is very much in danger. If I can find where they are, or where they are going, I can save her. There may be some kind of clue in that room that can save her life.” I pause dramatically. “Do you want to stand in the way of that?”

People’s ignorance of their own laws always amuses me. She pulls a key-card off the wall and hands it to me. “I’ll call my manager to go up with you...”

“That’s not necessary,” I snap. “I’m on a very tight schedule, and I’ll only be a couple minutes.”

“Um... Okay...” she says as I walk away. I take an elevator up to the fifth floor and find room 513 quickly. The cleaning lady hasn’t made her way this far yet, so it has been untouched since Lazarus and Murphy left only a couple hours before. I feel so frustrated, so close, but so far away. I can almost feel them in here, almost lay my hand on their filthy skin.

The room is relatively clean, hardly touched. There are open soaps, a pile of towels in the corner of the bathroom. The television is still on, mutely playing an endless dance of fornication and sin. There isn’t much else.

Five floors below me, the girl has told her manager what happened, and he has called security to come and get me out. I don’t have a lot of time left. It doesn’t matter though, because I find what I need behind the waste-basket next to the bed. There is a cellophane wrapper with a fine dust of cocaine. I can see now that he is out, he needs to get more... and wants to show the girl something... I can’t see what it is, but I know where they are going. There is a dealer he always uses not far up the highway, Sean Hammer, goes by the name of ‘RatDawg,’ Lazarus will be there.

Two burly security men are approaching the door as I come out. They are wearing suits and both have mustaches. Both look quite dour.

“You’re going to have to come with us,” one of them says. Before the near-fatal beating of a homosexual ended his career, Bill Buckingham was a professional body-builder. The security gig fits him just as well.

“Not necessary,”I say heavily, dropping the key-card in front of Tom Quaid, who trophy hunts in his spare time. His walls at home are lined with heads, and he can't remember eating a bite from one of them.

Tom extends a meaty arm and stops me. “You’re going with us,” he orders.

I grab Tom's hand, making every muscle in his body contract and his beady eyes go wide and lock with mine. I shake my head gently and smile, saying, “No. No I’m not.”

“F... Fine...,” he stammers. “Just... Just get out of here.”

They both stand dumbfounded as I step into the elevator.

Go to Chapter 21