Dead Man Docking - Mary Daheim [52]
After putting on her murky glasses, Renie got down on her hands and knees. “You’re right. It’s open to the Gs. There’s something written in the margin.” Without touching the directory with her fingers, she managed to shove it out from under the bed. “It says ‘1 P.M.—GH.’”
“Shall we assume Dixie made that notation?”
“Somebody did,” Renie said, standing up and removing her glasses.
“There must be tons of restaurants in San Francisco that begin with G,” Judith mused.
“There are,” Renie said. “I looked. But maybe not GH. Unless it’s the initials of a person instead of a place.”
“We can check our own hotel directory,” Judith said. “Let’s go. Dixie must have taken her other personal effects with her.”
As the elevator door opened onto the lobby, Judith espied not only the man who looked like a reporter, but Captain Swafford and a couple of uniformed police officers. Quickly, she pushed the button for the basement.
After a few more creaks of the cable, the elevator opened onto a small foyer with a large sign that read GUEST PARKING ONLY. Paul Tanaka stood in front of them, looking as surprised to see the cousins as they were to see him.
“Serena! What are you doing here?” he asked, remaining in place.
Judith and Renie emerged from the elevator just as the doors began to automatically close again.
“It’s a long story,” Renie said with a sigh. “Maybe we should talk.”
“Ah…” Paul looked uncomfortable. “Shall we go up to my room? I just heard about Dixie. Isn’t it terrible? Captain Swafford says it may have been food poisoning.”
“Really?” Renie sounded unconvinced. “How does he know? It happened less than half an hour ago.”
“It must be a preliminary diagnosis,” Paul said as the elevator doors opened once more and the trio entered. “I believe he’s been in contact with the hospital. He also sent Dr. Selig to where they took her…body. The ship’s physician is required to attend to such matters involving crew.”
On the third floor, Paul led the way. While the decor was similar to that of Dixie’s lodgings, the room itself was much neater. File folders were stacked on the small desk next to a laptop, and no personal belongings had been carelessly left about.
“Have you been out?” Judith asked casually, remembering that Paul’s key had been in his mailbox when she was in the lobby.
He nodded as he checked for messages. “I had lunch with some old college friends.” Paul scowled as he listened to the recording. “Excuse me,” he said. “Connie Cruz called an hour ago. I should ring her back.”
Except for the bathroom, there was nowhere Paul could go for privacy. Judith and Renie discreetly turned away.
“Really,” Judith whispered, “I should phone Joe. I can tell him now that a crew member had an accident and delayed our departure. You should let Bill know, too.”
“Not to mention our mothers,” Renie said without enthusiasm. “If a reporter is down in the lobby, I’ll bet this whole damned story has broken.”
“Not necessarily at home.” Judith pointed to a folded copy of the San Francisco Chronicle that Paul had left on the desk. “Look. That headline is about pollution in the Bay Area.”
“The bays here certainly are a different color,” Renie allowed. “Both San Francisco and Oakland’s bays look really dirty.”
“We’ve got our own problems,” Judith said. “In more ways than one.”
A few words of Paul’s soft-spoken conversation filtered through: “…Not to worry…Must rest…Arrangements are under way…Yes, I’ll check her file…”
With a sad shake of his head, Paul rang off. “Poor Connie. She’s had more than she can bear. She really should have complete rest, but that’s not her nature. I’m doing my best to take whatever load I can off her shoulders, but she insists on taking part.”
Judith hazarded a guess. “You mean about her husband’s services?”
“Partly.” Paul turned on his laptop. “I’m sorry, I should check my e-mail, too.”
“There