Sellers moved over to him and said, “What’s he doing? In his room?”
The man nodded.
“Alone?”
“That’s right.”
“Telephoning?”
“Only to room service.”
“What’s he doing?”
“Getting plastered.”
“That suits me fine,” Sellers said. He jerked his head in my direction and said, “Come on, Lam.”
We went to the lift, and got off at the eleventh floor. Sellers already knew the way. He walked on down the corridor and banged with his knuckles on the door of 1110.