The Sound of Broken Glass Read Online Free PDF

door, so they’d made good time.
    â€œThe Belvedere, I believe,” said Melody as she pulled up behind the last panda car.
    The hotel was on their right, a large, sprawling building, pale-pink stucco with deep-blue awnings on the lower windows. A uniformed constable was stringing blue-and-white tape across the stairs leading up to the entry. At the top of the steps, DC Shara MacNicols seemed to be engaged in a heated discussion with a stocky woman in a blue suit.
    â€œHotel manager?” murmured Melody as she killed the Clio’s engine and snapped open her seat belt.
    â€œThat would be my guess.” Gemma got out, flashing her ID at one of the uniformed constables keeping an eye on the perimeter as she and Melody made their way towards the hotel’s entrance.
    As they drew closer, Gemma saw that Shara had red beads in the ends of the tiny braids in her hair, a splash of color bright as berries against the gray day. The other woman’s pale skin looked blotched from shock, her straw-blond hair dry and disheveled.
    â€œYou didn’t check his identification?” Shara was saying as Gemma and Melody reached the two women.
    â€œMr. Smith, he always paid in cash. It did not seem necessary,” answered the woman, and from her faint accent Gemma guessed she was Eastern European.
    Shara acknowledged them with a nod. “Guv. Sarge. This is Irene Dusek. She’s the night manager who checked in our victim.”
    â€œI’m Detective Inspector James, Ms. Dusek,” said Gemma. “And this is Detective Sergeant Talbot.” She frowned as she continued. “Ms. Dusek, I’m sure you’re aware that hotels are required to take down their guests’ identification details.”
    â€œYes, but Mr. Smith, we know him. He was never any trouble, and he never stayed long.”
    â€œWell, he’s a bit of trouble now, isn’t he?” said Shara, and Gemma shot her a quelling look. Dusek sounded frightened, and Gemma was more concerned about information than government hotel regulations.
    â€œWhat time did Mr. Smith check in last night?” she asked.
    Dusek seemed to relax. “It was maybe eleven, but I am not sure exactly.”
    â€œWas someone with him?”
    â€œOh, no. Mr. Smith, he always comes alone.”
    â€œDid he have luggage?” asked Melody.
    â€œOh, I did not see. I was busy—there was a phone call. Maybe he got something from the car.” Dusek shifted, and Gemma guessed she was lying.
    â€œYou saw his car?” she asked.
    â€œNo, no. But I thought—he looked like a man who would have a car. A nice car, you know.”
    â€œSo this gentleman ”—Shara put heavy emphasis on the word—“came regularly, on his own, with no luggage. And you said he didn’t stay long. Did you mean he didn’t usually stay the entire night? It sounds to me like you’re running a brothel here.”
    Dusek shook her head emphatically. “No, no,” the woman said. “We do nothing bad. The housekeeper said he check out early. We are respectable hotel.” Her grasp of English seemed to be deteriorating under stress.
    Gemma examined the frontage of the hotel, seeing no obvious secondary entrances. “Ms. Dusek, are there other accesses to the hotel?”
    â€œWe have the fire doors, of course. They are required.” Dusek seemed glad of firmer ground. “On the sides and in the back of hotel.”
    â€œOkay,” said Gemma. “We’ll have a look at those. But first we’d better see your Mr. Smith.”
    Dusek gave a little sob and pressed her knuckles to her mouth. “He was nice man, always very nice. I do not understand how this thing could happen.”
    â€œThat’s our job to find out, Ms. Dusek. We’ll need to speak to you again. Is there someone who can sit with you?”
    â€œThere is Raymond, the day clerk. And the housekeeper. She is very upset.”