The Death Relic

23

DeJute punched a few buttons and pulled up the video from the camera near Maria’s suite. He tapped another key, and the live feed appeared on the centre monitor. The screen was four times as large as the others and would give them a better view of the break-in. ‘Not much going on right now. Just an empty hallway.’

Payne glanced over DeJute’s shoulder and got a feel for the control panel, just in case he needed to pull up some footage on his own. ‘Empty is good.’

‘Unless you’re talking about my glass at happy hour. Then empty is bad.’

‘You got me there.’

‘Of course, I have to be careful when I drink. Don’t want to get a DUI in my wheelchair. No telling who I might run over in this thing.’

Payne pushed his personal feelings aside — he’d lost his parents to a drunk driver — and ignored the comment. ‘The incident took place sometime between four and seven p.m.’

DeJute entered the data on his keyboard, and the video skipped back to 4 p.m. the previous afternoon. From there, he grabbed the joystick on the control panel and tilted it to the right. This sped the video forward. ‘Pretty cool, huh? I control everything with this little lever. I can go backwards or forwards, up or down, in or out. Whatever I want to do.’

‘Let’s go forward until we see someone in the hallway.’

‘You got it, chief.’

Nothing appeared on the monitor until Maria departed the suite. Wearing a sundress and sandals, she opened the door, closed it behind her, then made sure it was locked. After that, she strolled down the corridor towards the elevator.

DeJute pointed at the screen. ‘Is that your boss?’

‘Yep. That’s her.’

‘I’ll be damned. I know who that is!’

Payne tensed. ‘You do?’

‘I sure as shit do. That’s Mariachi Maria!’

‘Excuse me?’

DeJute laughed to himself. ‘Your boss is Mariachi Maria. How funny is that?’

Payne stared at him. ‘I think you’d better explain.’

He leaned forward and tapped a few buttons. ‘I can do better than that. I’ll let you see the video for yourself.’

‘The video? Of what?’

‘Sometimes when we get a really important client, the hotel mariachi band is summoned to greet them by the front door. Well, your boss lady was selected for the royal treatment.’

‘She was?’

DeJute nodded. ‘I’ve been playing this video all day long. It’s actually kind of sexy. After a while, she gets into the music and starts to shake her chi-chis.’

Payne watched the video of Maria’s arrival and couldn’t help but smile. In a span of five minutes, she went from confused to embarrassed to downright festive. For him, it was a pleasant surprise, because it revealed a side of her personality he wasn’t familiar with. Jones had always claimed that she was fun — that she liked to dance and goof around — but Payne had never seen it for himself, because whenever he’d been with her there was always an imminent threat of danger.

‘If you can, please burn me a copy. I’d love to have it in case she fires my ass. You know, as blackmail material.’

‘Dude, I like the way you think.’ DeJute reached to his right and opened a small filing cabinet under his desk. Inside, there were hundreds of DVDs. He grabbed the first disc in the stack and handed it to Payne. It was labelled ‘Mariachi Maria’. ‘You can have my copy. I’ll burn another one later for my personal collection.’

‘Thanks. I appreciate it.’

‘No problem at all.’

‘If it’s OK with you, can we go back to the other feed now? Maybe I can save my job before I have to play this card.’

‘You got it, chief.’

DeJute hit a few keys and the hallway video returned to the point where they’d left off: Maria had just departed her suite and was headed for the elevator. DeJute grabbed the joystick and tilted it to the right. The video sped forward at ten times the normal speed. He stared at the screen intently, patiently waiting for someone to make an appearance in the corridor.

Several seconds passed before someone finally did.

Jones and Maria walked across the parking lot at a leisurely pace. Not from overconfidence, but to draw as little attention to themselves as possible.

‘Hamilton’s car is just ahead. It’s the maroon Hummer H2.’

‘How do you know?’ Jones asked.

‘Because he told me he was driving a maroon Hummer H2. And when I checked the parking lot last night, it was the only one here.’

‘In that case, I’m going to go out on a limb and say it’s probably his vehicle.’

She gave him a friendly punch. ‘Thank goodness you’re here. I never would have figured that out on my own.’

Jones smiled. ‘Well, I am a trained professional.’

‘I know you are. That’s why I gave you a call.’

A few seconds passed before he spoke again. When he did, his voice was a little less jovial. ‘Actually, you didn’t give me a call. You called Jon, not me.’

The comment stung her so much she stopped walking. She paused for a moment, took a deep breath, then rushed to catch up with Jones, who didn’t break stride until he reached the H2.

‘About that,’ she said as she grabbed his arm.

He shook his head. ‘Not now. We’ve got a job to do. Can’t lose focus.’

‘Right. Sorry. You’re right. We can talk about it later.’

‘Or not.’

‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘We will talk about it later.’

‘Fine! We’ll talk about it later. But if it’s OK with you, I’d prefer if our conversation didn’t take place inside a Mexican prison.’

‘Right. Of course. Sorry.’

‘Don’t be sorry. Do your job. Stand over there and let me know if anyone’s coming.’

DeJute stopped the video and zoomed in on the elevator a few seconds after the doors had opened. Standing in the hallway were two stocky Latin men with short black hair. Dressed in casual clothes and designer sunglasses that obscured their faces, they took a moment to get their bearings before they walked down the corridor towards Maria’s suite.

‘Look familiar?’ Payne asked.

‘Not at all.’

‘Can you print that image for me? I’d like to have it.’

‘No problem.’

The men stopped in front of her door and glanced in both directions. With no one in sight, one of them pulled out a keycard and inserted it into the slot. A moment later, the light turned green and the men entered the suite.

Payne pointed at the screen. ‘Did you see that? They had a key.’

He nodded. ‘I can’t walk, but I can see.’

‘Where did they get a key?’

‘Honestly, any number of places. The front desk, a maid’s cart, even your boss’s pocket. That’s the problem with keycards. They can be duplicated very easily.’

‘Then why do you use them?’

‘Two reasons,’ he explained. ‘First of all, they’re inexpensive. If someone loses a card, it costs us less than a nickel to replace it, which is a lot cheaper than calling a locksmith.’

Payne grunted in disgust. ‘In other words, hotels care more about saving money than protecting their guests.’

‘And that surprises you?’

‘No, I guess not.’

DeJute glanced back at him. ‘Don’t worry, chief. In cases like this, the hotel’s cheapness actually works to your advantage.’

‘How do you figure?’

‘Anytime a keycard is used, my computer keeps track. If you give me a minute, I can tell you when their keycard was made, who it was given to, and where it’s been used before.’

Payne smiled. ‘In that case, all is forgiven.’