Edie seemed flustered. “I don’t know — about any card.”
I followed it up. “The hotel is anxious for its patrons to have a good time while here. But we’re only concerned about our guests, naturally. The anxiety doesn’t extend to paid entertainers, f’rexamp.”
“No law says you can’t invite friends to your suite.” She was ready to go to bat for her racket, so ready that I couldn’t imagine her having been involved in a stabbing. She’d have been more interested in getting away from there.
Zingy, halfway across the lobby, caught sight of me, made vigorous pantomime of the letter T.
I nodded that I got it; Tim wanted me.
But Zingy hurried over, making a spinning motion with his right forefinger — the hustle sign.
I went to the door. “Excuse me one second, Miss Eberlein.” I caught hold of the jamb with my left hand, about head-high.
“Trouble a-bubbling,” the bell captain said softly.
“Always is, my night off. What now?”
“Tim, up in the Crystal Room. He’s looking for somebody, says you know who.”