THE LIMOUSINE stopped in front of the Intercontinental Hotel. My driver, whom I scrutinized to the point of aggravating him, opened my door. He told me to go to the register and a suite would be waiting for me. I think I was getting used to living the high life.
The lobby was filled with rich-looking people. The women were wearing elegant designer dresses and expensive jewelry. Their manicures probably had cost more than the silk Kung Fu uniform I was wearing. I felt so out of place.
I walked over to the front desk, wanting to get out of the lobby as soon as possible. “I’m Special Agent Phoenix Perry. You should have reservations for me.”
The clerk looked me up and down, as if she didn’t believe a word I was saying. It wasn’t one of those racist looks I received from time to time. She was looking at me as if I didn’t belong there, as if I were too low-class or something. I shook my head. The woman wasn’t even a manager. She was just a lowly clerk wearing a cheap hotel blazer. Yet she was treating me as if she owned the place.
I reached for my credentials to show the bitch I could go anywhere I wanted. I could go behind that desk, throw her up against the wall, and frisk her in front of everybody, just to humiliate her the same way she was trying to humiliate me. Then I realized that I’d thrown everything, including my credentials, out of the train window. I looked at the clerk again. She curled her lips and shook her head.
“Look, Ho,” I began. “I’m in a real bad mood! Just do your job and see if the registration is there.”
The clerk laughed under her breath, which really irritated me. After hitting a few buttons on the computer terminal, she changed her attitude.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the clerk said. “Adrienne Bellamy made the reservations. Everything’s taken care of.” She pulled out a computer card and a key. “The card is for the suite and this key is for the elevator. It will take you to the penthouse.”
I rolled my eyes at her. What really angered me was that I was the same person she had disrespected not two minutes ago. Nothing about me had changed but suddenly I was getting the royal treatment. I felt like reporting her to the manager, but the truth was, I was just stressed by everything that was going on in my life.
“Where are the pay phones?” I asked her. If Adrienne Bellamy had paid for everything, the phone in my room was probably bugged. I needed to call Sterling Wise and find out what I could. I also needed to call the Manhattan field office to let them know where I was.
“The pay phones are over near the restrooms.” She frowned and pointed her finger over my shoulder.
She was probably wondering why I didn’t go to my suite and call from there. But I wasn’t going to explain myself to this heifer. “Do you have a Susan Lucci or a Debbie Morgan registered here?”
She hit a few buttons on the keyboard. “No, I’m sorry, we don’t.”
“What’s the cost of my room?” I asked, curious to know how much rich people paid for what amounted to a bed and breakfast.
“Fifteen-hundred dollars a night.”
The surprise on my face must have been obvious because she laughed. I could see why she had such a pompous attitude. She must have thought I was one of New York’s many vagrants who had wandered in looking for a handout.
I went to the pay phone, studying everyone around me. Coco Nimburu could be any one of them. She was in the hotel. I knew it. It was how she operated. I would be getting a call from her. I was sure of it.
My first call on the pay phone was to the bureau’s Manhattan office. I let them know where I was and told them to give me plenty of room. They promised to send me a package with my credentials and a communications device by special messenger. Then I had them connect me to the Renegade Hotel and Casino in the Caymans. Before long, Sterling was on the phone.
“Attorney Wise,” he said.
“Sterling. It’s Agent Perry. I need to speak with you. I know Adrienne Bellamy was your client. I’m not asking for any privileged attorney-client information. I just need to know what to expect. She has my husband and daughter.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Agent Perry. I don’t know if I can help or not. But what you should expect is a bribe of some sort. She flaunts her wealth and offers you whatever it is she thinks you want. It’s very seductive, but don’t give into it. If you do, it will only come back to haunt you later. Tell me, what have you found out so far?”
“I know she’s black pretending to be white.”
“Then you have the upper hand. With that information, she’ll tell you everything else. But be careful. She’s dangerous as hell, even though she doesn’t appear to be. What she reveals will be the truth, but she will use it against you later. She can’t afford to have people know who she really is. I can’t stress that point enough. A lot of people have died because they knew what you now know. Be careful.”