“Well—” she looked unhappy, “we don’t wish to complain about guests who can afford that kind of suite. But the maids say they never can get in either of the bedrooms until late in the afternoon, sometimes, as tonight, not before four-thirty. That makes it hard for us, with so many rooms to rack up, and really it is quite unusual for a lady to want to be in her suite all day with the beds unmade! Don’t you think?”
I did think. “Where’s the maid who had sense enough to spot that gun stain?”
“Elsie Dowd? Mrs. Dowd’s still up on the twenty-first. I can call her—”
“Never mind. I’ll go up. Tell her she rates an extra day’s vacation pay. Thanks a lot, Ada.”
Elsie was checking off soap and tissue on her stock list beside the 2100 linen closet.
“I hope I didn’t make any trouble for Miss Marino, Mister Vine.” Elsie was fiftyish and sallow-eyed; she was a little frightened. “She’s been real nice to me, personally.”
“Tips you? All that?”
“Oh, most of them do. But Miss Marino makes you feel she’s interested in you. She’s so sweet. But it’s these men—”
“Plural?”
“Understand, I’m not suggesting anything wrong.” She was uneasy. “But there are generally a couple of men around. There’s one in her suite right now—”