Miranda Sparks’ wonderful life

We were sitting on a bus going to another hotel where a seminar was to be held when Mr. Russell sat down with me.

– That’s exactly right.

– And I’m Eric.

We shook hands, and I turned away from him immediately. I’d have to tell the man not to choke so much.

– It’s a beautiful city, isn’t it?

– Uh-huh.

– I have been here so many times, but its beauty still fascinates me.

I pretended to be drowsy from the traffic on the bus, and apparently Mr. Russell saw that, so he finished talking to me. The whole time we were driving, the smell of his toilet water kept me from enjoying the ride.

The impressive size of the lobby of the five-star Olympic Plaza Hotel was a sight to behold. It was like entering the palace of a sheikh himself. It was picturesque, bright and tasteful, all done in the best traditions of a prestigious hotel. As I walked across the shiny marble floor, my sandals slid gently but made no sound. People were arriving, checking in, and just strolling through the spacious hotel lobby. Life was buzzing everywhere, discussions in various languages, and it was easy to tell the difference between a guest in a regular room and one in a suite. In all this mass, Mr. Russell somehow managed to find me and followed me like a little dog.

– Miss Spikes, this way.

I had just managed to get rid of Eric when Frances called out to me, pointing to a bulky door, behind which was a small conference room with a shield, a projector, and several chairs upholstered in reddish velvet.

– Position yourself in a way that is comfortable for you.

While everyone was taking their seats, I approached our guide.

– Francis, excuse me, but can I step outside for a minute, I need to make one principle call?

– Yes, of course. The seminar doesn’t start for another half hour, so you can go about your business in the meantime. If there’s anything else you need, come to me right away. I’ll be sitting in that corner over there.

We both looked at the last row.

– Thank you.

– You’re welcome.

I found Señor del Pozo’s number in my phone book rather quickly, and immediately dialed it.

– Hello? – After a short ringing tone, I said. – Is this Senor Francisco Salido del Pozo?

– Señorita Violet?

The detective’s voice had a pleasant accent that swallowed some consonants.

– That’s me!

– Monsieur Moreau told me about your trip to Algeria. Where are you at the moment?

Señor del Pozo referred to Mr. Moreau in the French manner because he was, in fact, a native Frenchman.

– I’m at the Olympic Plaza.

– Where?

Apparently he didn’t hear me, so I said it louder:

– At the five-star Olympic Plaza Hotel.

A small silence ensued.

– Mr. Norland is at this particular hotel at the moment, senora.

My heart was beating at a frantic pace.

– Where exactly? Can you tell me?

I looked around to see Mike at last.

– He’s currently on the 46th floor.

It’s going to be very hard, kind of an accident to be there.

– What about you? Where are you at the moment?

– I am currently in room 303 in the same hotel.

– Then, may I come up to see you, Señor del Pozo?

Once again, a short-lived silence.

– Si, senora, you can.

– In that case, I’ll be with you shortly.

I reset the call and walked to the elevator, not understanding why my hands and feet were shaking so much. I heard the sound of the elevator arriving, and when its doors opened, I stepped in with the other people and pressed the third floor.

«Welcome to the operation Miss Spikes!»

Chapter 11

What was I experiencing?

Love?

Resentment?

Disappointment?

Or maybe I was trying to realize what Mike had done?