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“There,” Koch said, pointing.

The Robert Treat Hotel was just down the block.

“I see it.”

“Drop me here,” Koch said, “then go all the way down and park around the corner. I’ll get the room key, then come find you and we’ll walk in. That way the car’s out of sight and not linked with us.”

Fifteen minutes later, Bayer and Koch carried the suitcases that contained their duffel bags through the front doors of the hotel.

Bayer saw that it was a nice hotel, not anything like the motor hotels that they had been staying in all week. The lobby featured impressive large columns, and there was marble and polished tile everywhere.

They walked to the elevators, passing two young women, a well-built blonde and a petite redhead, both about twenty, relaxing in richly upholstered chairs beside a line of lush palms.

The blonde, her tight black skirt rising up on her crossed legs, made eye contact with Bayer. She smiled. He sheepishly grinned back.

Koch and Bayer got on the elevator, and as the doors closed Bayer met the blonde’s eyes again. She winked.

“Now, those,” he said as the car began to rise, “were some good-looking women. Wonder who they are?”

Koch was looking up and watching the floor indicator move past 3.

“Prostitutes,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Hookers?” Bayer felt as if he’d been punched. “No!”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

The elevator stopped at the fourth floor and the doors opened.

“Really,” Koch said, then looked at Bayer and added, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Richard Koch had been gone for more than an hour. He had said it was going to take him no more than a half hour to get rid of the car.

The time was not a problem for Kurt Bayer. It was, instead, that from almost the moment that Koch had left, Bayer’s stomach had started to growl.

Bayer had dug through his luggage, hoping to find a stick of the chewing gum from the pack that he had spilled in there a few days ago. There was none.

What I really want is something salty.

Some nuts or chips would be good.

He went over to the table between the two beds, and on the white notepad there, wrote:

* * *

R—

In the bar

KB

* * *

He put the whole pad in the center of the dark bedspread where Koch couldn’t miss it, then went out the door.

The bar turned out to be easy to find. An open area off of the main lobby, it was noisy and smoky. There was a twenty-foot-long bar, made of nice dark wood and with a dozen tall seats, about half of which were being used. The thirty or so cocktail tables were almost all taken; some had a couple sitting and enjoying drinks at them, others two or more couples.