“Ah, excusez moi?” said the attendant, hesitantly. “Manager Pires is most likely indisposed at the moment. But I’m sure there are clerks who would be more than happy to—”
“Surely, there’s some way we can change your mind, hmm?” said Robert, a purr to his voice. He extended a hand, and John glimpsed a hundred-euro note secreted in the old investigator’s palm.
The attendant cleared his throat, glanced at the note, and his eyes flicked toward the low, marble counter circling the far wall of the atrium. “I, I don’t think I can arrange that,” he began, hesitantly.
“Come,” Robert wheedled. “I’m certain we can reach an arrangement, monsieur.”
The attendant still looked reluctant. John’s patience had worn thin at this point. While Robert tried a third time, in quiet, cajoling murmurs, John turned, faced the atrium, and, at the top of his voice, the tall scar-faced French agent shouted, “DGSI! We’re here to speak with the manager. Now!”
The attendant wilted, and seemed to want to shrink into the floor and disappear. Robert sighed with resignation in his partner’s direction, but reluctantly stowed his money and crossed his arms over his neatly pressed suit and jacket.
“Well?” John shouted, louder now. “The manager?”
“I’m sure, if we’re patient, and just wait—” Robert tried to say, but before he could finish, there was a flurry of movement from through a doorway behind the long counter. A few customers and a couple of clerks were looking in John’s direction, but pretending not to.
Through the doorway, a woman in a neat red uniform appeared, walking quickly toward where the agents stood. She took in Robert, in his neat suit and combed hair, and then her gaze flicked to John and his two hoodies and disheveled appearance. At John’s appearance, her eyes slid along the atrium toward where two security personnel were standing near the doors. She hesitated, but then addressed the DGSI agents.
“Hello,” she said, pressing her lips together. “May I help you? I’m Maria, assistant to Manager Pires. I’m afraid he’s not available right now. How might I be of assistance?”
“Excuse me, mademoiselle,” said Robert, stepping forward and taking Maria gently by the hand. He held her hand in greeting and gave a slight bow of his head. “We are in need of some information—if you’d be gracious enough to bless us with your time, we’d be eternally grateful.”
John watched the strange exchange, feeling an itch somewhere in the vicinity of his collar. He’d been told in the past he had a face like a lazy pit bull when he was impatient. The person who’d said it had ended up in the hospital with a broken nose and bruised eye. Yet, in this moment, John bit his tongue and waited for Robert to take his shot.
The assistant manager Maria looked taken aback, even flustered by Robert’s demeanor. When she acknowledged the wealthy investigator, though, she almost seemed to ease up. Some of the distrust and worry she had displayed at the sight of John faded.
“You say you’re with the DGSI?” she asked, politely, still extending her hand and allowing Robert to gently guide her toward the clerk counter.
“Yes, dear child,” said Robert. “A delicate matter, I’m sure.”
John remained forgotten as the two moved arm-in-arm to the back of the atrium. The expensive, polished floors winked up at glinting lights in ornamented brackets throughout the ceiling.
“Yes,” the manager said, quietly, her eyes darting to a couple of customers checking in at the front. Their many bags and luggage rested on a dolly, pushed by another crimson-uniformed attendant. Robert’s own bags now awaited them by the elevator, the attendant patiently standing with his arms crossed by the three pieces of luggage.
John hefted his own small laptop bag—where he’d stowed a shirt and a change of boxers—and stomped after his smaller partner. Anyone who looked his way received a glare and a half. He managed to catch up with the smaller investigator and his captive audience with two long strides.
He reached the counter with them, hearing Robert finish a sentence with, “… Perhaps somewhere more private?”
Maria leaned one arm on the counter, giving a significant look to the clerk at the computer hidden behind the marble partition. The clerk nodded in greeting, then hurried away, moving to the opposite side of the long divider.
For her part, Maria dropped her voice and quietly said, “Mr. and Mrs. Hanes have been coming here as long as I can remember. Once a year.”
“Ah,” said Robert. “But you are so young! It couldn’t have been too long, no?”
Maria tittered a bit and John felt his stomach turn. “I’ve been working here nearly fifteen years,” she said. “Started as a waitress and worked my way up. We only serve the most prestigious clientele. As I’m sure you’re aware.”
Robert smiled and patted her on the shoulder, looking her deep in the eyes with his warm gaze. “Yes, yes,” he said, “very impressive. I wish you all the more blessing on your hard work. Fifteen years is an impressive commitment. I hope they reward your loyalty?”
Maria hesitated, her nose wrinkling. But she coughed and smoothed the front of her pristine uniform with her free hand. “I have no complaints. The Swiss couple, though—this is why you’re here?”
Robert nodded once, his eyes fixed on Maria as if there were no one else in the room. His every nod and smile, every gesture, responded to Maria’s words or posture, mirroring back her excitement, interest, curiosity all in rapid synchronicity. To John, it was like witnessing a chess match of body language, which the assistant manager didn’t even realize she was a part of.
John knew, though, from the little time he’d spent with Robert, that the older investigator wasn’t a manipulator. He knew how to react, to respond, but he also meant the things he said; he had an annoying knack of caring about everyone they interacted with.
“Bigwigs in oil,” Maria was saying, softly. “Though,” she frowned, “I don’t know if I was supposed to say that.”
“No—do not worry. You’re being honest. I can tell you’re an honest person, oui,” said Robert, nodding. “It’s in the eyes, yes. And their room, where did they stay?”
Maria cleared her throat. “They had their own chalet on permanent reserve. Fifteen years now; probably more. Search and rescue has been looking for them, but found nothing.”
“And when did Mr. and Mrs. Hanes arrive to this lovely establishment you run so wonderfully well?”
Maria frowned in thought, but then nodded again. “I remember all our customers. They’re part of the family. Mr. and Mrs. Hanes arrived before first snowfall. They went missing four days ago.”
John spoke for the first time, and his presence, followed by a grunt, seemed to break a sort of spell. Both Robert and Maria glanced at him, their eyes narrowing somewhat. “Before snowfall,” John said. “Means the bodies might be covered.”
Robert’s eyes widened nearly imperceptibly in alarm. Maria gasped, staring white-faced at John. “Bodies?” she said. “You think they’re—they’re…” She swallowed.
“Dead?” John provided. “Probably. Been gone a while.” He glanced toward Robert, who had passed a hand over his face and was massaging the bridge of his nose as if against a sudden headache.