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‘Excusez-moi… Hotel Medieval?’
‘Oui, English?’ The guide was an older woman with cropped salt and pepper hair. Her linen garments were worn loose, which seemed to be the common uniform of tour guides across Europe. She had a kind face.
‘English, yes.’
She withdrew a map of the city from her tote bag. ‘We are here on the Rue des Teinturiers. The easiest way is to follow this road all the way back along here.’ The guide traced her finger along the map. ‘It is just here.’ She pointed to a street on the right. ‘The streets are very narrow but you will see the sign for the hotel hanging over the street. You can’t miss it.’
‘Merci.’ The sonofabitch was only a couple of blocks from their apartment.
A signin the shape of a shield hung over the street, exactly as the guide had suggested, heralding the location of the Hotel Medieval. A tour group had just arrived at the hotel. Travelers and their oversized luggage spilled out into the street. The glass doors remained open so they could hear their guide giving them instructions.
Alex nudged his way past the small wardrobes on wheels and overstuffed backpacks into the tiny reception area. The guide had started handing out keys attached to heavy brass rings to his group. The decor appeared to be in keeping with the name of the hotel, including the handwritten ledger of occupants. Alex steadily picked his way through to the desk, biding his time. The solitary male receptionist seemed frazzled by the invasion of tourists and baggage. Alex reached the front just as the receptionist turned to get the next key. Alex glanced down at the guest book and found what he was looking for:
Nable, Tom - Chambre 14.
‘Can I just grab room fourteen please, mate?’ he asked as the harried attendant turned back.
There was only one key hanging under the number fourteen, indicating Nable was either in his room, or hadn’t handed his key back on his way out. Alex was betting on the former.
He edged his way out of the milling tourists and headed for the back, where several of the recently-arrived guests had started lugging their suitcases up the first few flights. The red-carpeted staircase was quite wide, allowing Alex to move past with ease. The room he was looking for was on the third-floor. A hallway stretched either side of the stairs and Alex made an educated guess that fourteen was towards the front of the building.
Once upstairs, the hallways were much narrower and darker due to the lack of natural light. Hall runners softened his footfall as he slowed his step. Number fourteen was the last room at the end of the hallway. Alex retrieved his gun from his waistband and held the key, ready to slip into the lock as he stood before the wooden door. The dark timber seemed authentic, not a laminate knock-off, and the handle was ornate and brass, to match the keyring.
He listened for movement inside the room but could hear nothing over the noise of incoming guests and the thick door. He pushed the key into the lock, simultaneously turning the key and the handle as he drove his shoulder into the door. The security chain that had been attached gave way as he pushed his way into the room, gun drawn.
The detective had been sittingat a table that leant against the far wall. He sprang to his feet as Alex crashed inside. He looked like a cop. The hair, the stance, he wore his t-shirt and jeans as a uniform. He appeared unarmed but kept his back to the wall so Alex couldn’t be sure.
‘Alex Hollywood Riley, in the flesh.’
He didn’t seem surprised or concerned that The Devils enforcer was standing two meters from him with a gun aimed at his head.
‘You shouldn’t have come here, cop.’
Nable sniffed. ‘Well, it’s not like you were gonna come back home.’
‘What kind of gutless prick hassles an innocent woman?’
‘Sarah? She was innocent. Then she met you.’ Nable stood his ground. ‘How long before she turns into a killer like you?’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Don’t I? They’ll never stop hunting you, Hollywood? To have a fighting chance, Sarah’s gonna have to pull the trigger at some point. Then she’s no better than you.’
A volcanic mist of rage threatened to derail him. The cop had dragged his worst fear from deep inside him and thrown it straight in his face.
He took a step towards Nable. He had at least two inches on him and plenty of muscle, not to mention the gun. The Detective still didn’t flinch.
‘Yeah.’ Nable nodded. ‘You’d do anything to protect her, to keep her safe. But you can’t outrun The Devils, especially with that loose cannon Jesse taking over from you. And now you’ve got Brian Isobel on your tail as well.’
‘You don’t know anything.’
‘I know Zep put two more of his boys on a plane bound for London two days ago. They picked up another two hired guns. Don’t reckon they’re in the country to go sightseeing, Hollywood.’
‘Don’t call me that.’
‘That’s right, you’re out of the game now.’
‘What else do you know about The Devils? Where are they now?’
