Then words that Balot didn’t really understand. “You should really try and be a little more honest with yourself, Balot. You’ll find it easier in the long run.”
“Well, from here on out it’s nonstop,” said the Doctor. “We have to win, no matter what. No turning back.”
Balot nodded. She felt as if her heart were about to burst with gratitude toward the pair.
She prayed that it would always be this way. That would be a
03
The moment the man appeared, the manager of the motel instinctively knew that resistance would be futile.
There were security guards in the motel, of course, and the high-caliber shotgun under the counter was fully loaded.
The manager knew that none of these precautions would be remotely effective, and that in any case the man had the law on his side.
“Dimsdale-Boiled—I’m a PI and Trustee on a case.”
The manager had surrendered completely even before he was shown the official ID. Boiled exuded
“I’ve already checked with the relevant taxi company. These people have been here, right?” As he spoke, Boiled placed photos of a man and a girl on the counter with his massive hands.
The manager definitely remembered them and had no intention of keeping this information back, no sir. The only problem was that he didn’t have any idea when they had left their rooms. He had no idea that the pair—who had just come from the airport in a gas-powered taxi, after all—would have changed their appearances so quickly and headed out in a limousine. He though they would still be in their rooms. After all, they both had the do not disturb sign displayed clearly on their doors, didn’t they?
“Show me their rooms,” said Boiled.
The manager swore with all his heart that he’d take full responsibility to find out which rooms they were in and then to open the doors
The first room that Boiled went into was the one that the Doctor had reserved. There was no sign of life. The manager waited in the hall, twitching.
Boiled went over to the trunk that had been left open and started examining the contents as if he had every right to do so.
He looked through the maps and bus tickets that the Doctor had undoubtedly prepared.
The map had a number of red crosses marked on it—destinations, evidently.
There were crosses on Shell’s apartment and the hotel that he ran.
Boiled exhibited no sign of emotion as he threw the map to one side.
Then he went to the room that Balot was supposed to be in. No one was there either.
She had hardly any luggage, only a few outfits that had been cast to one side, forsaken. She had a map similar to the one in the Doctor’s room, and it too was covered in crosses. Boiled took one glance at it.
Suddenly his cell phone rang. He answered and was met by Shell’s voice.
“A Floating Residence, military issue. It’s made of a fine, light alloy, and it’s under the jurisdiction and protection of the Commonwealth,” explained Boiled calmly. “I figured there was a high probability that they would be back on the ground by now, so I’ve been searching for them. They came to a motel via the Broilerhouse. I’m at that motel right now.”
“They’re certainly not here now. They’ve left some clothing and maps.”
“Maps with markings on them. Your apartment, the hotel where the woman involved in your transaction is staying, that sort of thing.”
Shell seemed about to erupt, to rush after them in hot pursuit, but Boiled stopped him.
“A childish bluff. If they’d really intended to target your residences they wouldn’t have left their maps lying around.”
“It won’t be long before I work out what they’re up to.”
Shell laughed when he heard Boiled’s words, spoken in an unchanging monotone. A laugh of relief.
“Yes.”
