Hammond got up from his chair, frowning.
“I understand, but I don’t agree,” he said heavily. “The minute you come within speaking distance of a Scorpion spy in that disguise, your life’s in danger. The second you’re discovered, it’ll probably be curtains whether pretty little Lotus or some squint-eyed thug puts out your light. Well, I won’t be keeping you any longer. Luck, Commander! And for the luvva Mike, watch your step!”
Red’s good-by warning was similar to Hammond’s, but even more heartfelt. His right hand still half paralyzed by the husky “Penny’s” grip, Don Winslow walked quickly to the hotel elevator.
Somewhat to his surprise, the operator greeted him respectfully as “Count Borg” showing that the real count was well known to the Empire staff. Don decided that he would indeed have to “watch his step”!
Lotus, he recalled, had mentioned a certain table in a corner of the dining room, where she had met the real count on past occasions. If she should not be there waiting for him, Don would be in a fix. He could not pick the wrong table to wait for her, without making her suspicious.
As he hesitated just outside the dining room, the headwaiter spotted him and came forward quickly.
“Ah, Count Borg! It is good to have you with us again after so long an absence!” the man murmured with his most unctuous smile. “Is it perhaps that you are expecting Mademoiselle Lotus this evening? If so, your table in the corner is reserved for you.”
With a low bow, the headwaiter led the way to a softly lighted alcove, somewhat apart from the main dining room. It held one small table suitable for two persons. The service included a single candle set in a beautifully ornamented silver candlestick.
Barely had the headwaiter pulled out Don’s chair, when his alert eye caught a movement across the larger room.
“Eh, voilà, M’sieu le Comte!” he exclaimed delightedly. “Here is the so charming Mademoiselle already! You will not have to wait.”