The Journey of Rick Heiden
All Rights Reserved ยฉ 2018, Rick Haydn Horst
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
CHAPTER FIVE
At half-past five o'clock, David collected me from Maggie's flat to return to the penthouse.
He opened the car door for me. "I'm sorry, Rick," he said.
I must have looked depressed. "There's nothing to be sorry about," I said. "Maggie can't come, and that's that. I appreciate your warning me. I assumed she would join us; I should stop making assumptions."
"Please, don't do that to yourself, you couldn't know. How have you left things with her?"
"I couldn't guarantee that I would see her again. I wouldn't have wanted things to end in a rush, as I suspect they will, and neglect to tell her how much she means to me. We're good. I'm sad now, but we're good."
Staring out the window, I felt both disappointed and a bit numb. The rain had stopped, and the setting sun was coming through the breaking clouds to the west. It was beautiful. "Does Jiyลซ have beautiful sunsets?" I asked.
He gazed out my window. "They look more spectacular than they do here. We have clean air, and the higher oxygen level makes the sky deeper blue."
That sounded nice, and it did make me smile. We drove along Piccadilly, past Green Park near Buckingham Palace, to Haymarket, then onto the hotel just past Trafalgar Square. "What did you discover at the hospital at Queen Square?" I asked.
He glanced at me and smiled. "Figure it out, did you?"
"I knew you would follow our most obvious lead, so yes."
We turned into the parking garage.
"It seems our trouble is coming into focus, and I've learned something important."
"Okay, I'm intrigued," I said. "What is it?"
We took a parking space, and David turned in his seat toward me. "Cadmar arrived at the hospital alive, and according to the nurse on duty that day, he died after he got there. However, before he died --and here we have the stickler-- he hadn't fallen unconscious, and he talked a lot. Most of what he said made no sense, but he did say some words that they recognized, the list includes Levitt and portal."
"Oh, shit."
"I spoke to the charge nurse who worked that day, and the first thing she said to me, 'Oh, you're Levitt.' And get this, they wrote everything down and gave it to the person left in charge of the whole caboodle: Katheryn Elliot."
"Well, there you go, she's the leak," I said.
"Close, but not quite. Our evidence remains circumstantial. Nothing so far indicates Katheryn hasn't leaked the information, but coincidences do happen. Still, it does put Amanda's daughter, the portal, and my involvement in a convenient little package."
We entered the lobby of the hotel. It had luxurious contemporary decor, a high ceiling, and an enormous crystal chandelier that no one in their right mind would relish the task of cleaning.
Jatin, the young night manager, greeted us and looked quite handsome in his well-fitting, azure blue suit. "Good evening, Mr. Levitt."
"Good evening, Jatin," said David, "do you have any messages for me?"
Jatin looked distressed. He came toward us so the guests speaking with the concierge a few feet away wouldn't hear. "You have no messages, but Mikesh, the day manager who just left, tells me that a man has coerced him into letting him into your room."
"Have I someone in my rooms, right now? Didn't Mikesh call the police? When had he let him in?"
"I do not understand it," he replied, "but he said if you knew his wife, you would know why he could not call the police, and he begged me not to either. According to Mikesh, he only had to let the man into the room, and then forget about him. I do not know when it occurred. Should I call the police?"
"No," said David, "I'll take care of it."
"Mr. Levitt, please, I beg you not to damage the hotel again...well, too much." Saying nothing more, he left for other duties.
"What did he mean by
again?
" I asked.
"That's a very long and boring story." David considered what to do, and his eye stared into me. "I can't take you up there, but I must go up."
"Oh no," I said, "I won't allow anyone to treat me like a child or something delicate. If you go up, I go up. It may stun you how useful I am when someone hasn't drugged and restrained me. Besides, you don't know that it's the talking man."
"He springs to mind, though, doesn't he?" David asked.
"So, what shall we do, both go up or go out?"
"I find you wonderful and exasperating; do you know that?" He shook his head. He then motioned for us to head toward the lift. The doors opened, and we entered it alone. He retrieved the hotel room key card from his wallet. The doors closed, and it began its slow ascent to the penthouse.
"Do you have your pistol?" I asked.
"Of course," he said, pulling out the blue and black weapon I saw the previous night at the warehouse. In the light of the lift, it looked even more impressive. "You do realize this could end badly."
"He won't shoot the instant we walk in--provided he's still there. He wants something other than to kill us."
David looked at me. "You don't know that."
I shrugged. "If you say so. Do you think it sensible, brandishing technology about like that?"
"I would hardly call how I'm holding this weapon, brandishing."
I watched him consider it for a few seconds and put it away.
The lift doors opened to the vestibule with the penthouse room door. Everything looked normal. We flanked the entrance, and David put the room key into the slot. He turned the knob and flung the door open. Nothing happened. We both peered into the room, and there he sat, the bespectacled Aiden Park from the Government Office for Science.
"Come in! I waited a long time, and I'm gettin' hungry," Park said in the American voice he used for the talking man. He was sitting on the couch wearing a pair of jeans and a buttercream, button-down collar shirt, with no gun in sight.