VIP room. Nor were there any cameras on that level.

 

Someone didn’t want a record of those heading up there, and he wondered why.

 

He took the stairs two at a time, jiggling the set of keys in his pocket. He

arrived on the upstairs landing and looked around. There was only one door,

although the room it accessed seemed to run the length of the corridor.

 

He assumed that this might have been the living quarters of whoever had owned

this building before it had become a bar.

 

He tried the door. It was locked.

 

He tried the keys in his pocket. The third one did the charm.

 

He opened the door and stepped into the room, closing it behind him. He didn’t

have a flashlight and didn’t need one. His eyes were capable of seeing amazingly

well in the darkness. He moved around the room, which was comfortably furnished.

 

It was actually more than one room. There was another room leading off it,

separated by another doorway.

 

He opened this door and stared at the large bed. It was neatly made now. He

figured it would not be so neat when Quentin and his ladies were here.