The Midnight Club_ A Novel - James Patterson [67]
“What are you doing now, Isiah?”
“I’ve been checking on my good buddy Burke over the past few days. Pulling some favors with a few friends. As it turns out, Burke met St.-Germain in Southeast Asia. He worked for him there. One other thing you should know. It’s the reason I came to see you, Lieutenant.”
Parker paused for a few seconds. John Stefanovitch waited for him to start again.
“I think that Jimmy Burke might be the one who killed your partner, Kupchek. I think some of the men who originally ambushed you at Long Beach were New York City cops.”
64
Sarah McGinniss; The Waldorf-Astoria Hotel
MADNESS WAS BEGINNING to take over her world. Sarah couldn’t stop thinking that way, because it happened to be the truth.
She was running, actually running, inside the formal and elegant Park Avenue entrance to the Waldorf-Astoria. Then she was rushing up the double-wide marble staircase. Finally Sarah entered the plush, floral-carpeted lobby, which extended a full city block to Lexington Avenue.
As her eyes focused on the scene, she selected sharply delineated objects and surfaces to concentrate on: a gilded sign for the Hilton Room; the entryway to the famous Empire Room, where café society had once danced to Frank Sinatra and Benny Goodman; a cocktail lounge called Peacock Alley. The hotel’s interior was undeniably rich, but also harmonious. It blended various marbles, stones, friezes, matched woods, and marquetry panels.
Somehow, the Waldorf seemed almost perfect for what was about to happen. It was the hotel of kings and presidents, wasn’t it? Maybe it ought to be the hotel for the highest intrigues as well.
She had to find Stefanovitch.
He’d called her at home, but she’d been out taking Sam to school. The message he’d left said there was going to be some kind of announcement about Alexandre St.-Germain at the Waldorf. Stef didn’t know any more than that yet. No one did. The message was so unexpected that as soon as she heard it, Sarah rushed to the midtown hotel. Now where was he?
She was feeling numb as she stood in the Waldorf, trying to catch her breath. Her face was flushed. Her neck tingled.
Finally she spotted him, down past Peacock Alley on the far right side of the lobby. He was spiffed up: wearing a car coat; a shirt and tie. He looked good, and was catching a lot of passing stares.
“I came as soon as I got your message,” she said as she hurried up to Stefanovitch. Even as she spoke, Sarah realized how hurt she’d been in Pennsylvania. She hadn’t understood how much until that moment.
He sensed it. “It’s real hard for me to apologize,” he said. “But I’m sorry. I should have tried to explain, but I’m not sure I understand what happened myself. I am sorry, Sarah.”
His hand brushed the sleeve of her dress. The slightest physical contact was made, but it seemed more than that to Sarah. Something about the strangeness of the relationship made all this incredibly intense to her.
Sarah looked into his eyes, but didn’t say anything. She knew this wasn’t the place or time.
“After this is over, we should talk. Sometime soon.” Her face quickly shifted away from Stefanovitch, those haunting brown eyes. “Do you know where we’re going? Where is all this supposed to happen?”
“The Duke of Windsor Room. It’s up on the fourth floor. A lot of movers and shakers are already there. I did some scouting before you got here.”
“Well… let’s go join everybody,” Sarah said. “See what this is all about.”
65
MORE THAN A hundred reporters, all kinds, from television networks, from newspapers and magazines around the world, were already gathered in the formal room. Everyone who was anyone was there: the American networks, the BBC, CBC, Iron Curtain services; representatives from all over Latin America. There were gold moiré draperies everywhere. The walls were covered in gold damask. Several of the sofas and chairs were Chippendale.
Sarah recognized