“Boy, you guys are really going all out,” Kevin said, pointing at the meager meal. “You’re just trying to butter me up, right? I mean, before you offer me $10 million instead of $5 million.”
“You are quite an amusing young man, Mr. Hamilton,” Lobec said. “I am sorry that we haven’t been able to provide more luxurious accommodations, but I am sure you understand our position. It wouldn’t do to have you escape before we have the Adamas notebook in our possession. This is obviously the most secure room in the house. Nevertheless, someone will be outside the room at all times.”
“You could have at least given me a working toilet.”
“Yes, you’re correct. I have decided to let Mr. Francowiak and his replacements take you to another bathroom down the hall. I have instructed him to let you use it only if you behave. If you attempt to escape or cause any mischief, he will tie you to the bed for the rest of your stay. Is that clear?”
“If I’m good, do I get a lollipop?”
Lobec came to within a foot of Kevin. “Do you realize, Mr. Hamilton, that if Miss Jensen does not meet us at the Arlington Bridge on Monday, you will die?”
“You’re going to kill me anyway, along with Erica if she’s there. In fact, the only way I’ll live is if she doesn’t show up. Then you need me.”
“You can believe what you want, Mr. Hamilton, but I can assure you that no one wants this situation peacefully resolved more than I. Now, I have some business to attend to out of town. I will be back Monday morning to escort you to the rendezvous.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“Enjoy your meal. Mr. Francowiak will escort you to the bathroom when you are finished.”
As he flashed a last corrupt smile at Kevin, Lobec followed Franco out the door, leaving Kevin wondering if he had a chance in hell of getting out of this.
At first apprehensive that the sandwich contained poison, Kevin quickly dismissed the idea as ludicrous. If they wanted to kill him, it would have happened hours ago, probably under torture. Tarnwell had asked him several questions about Adamas, but he obviously believed that the process was useless while the original notebook was still out there. And even with his memory, Kevin wouldn’t be able to accurately reproduce the entire experiment anyway.
He wolfed down the sandwich and potato chips and washed them down with several cupfuls of water from the sink. Somewhat invigorated from the food, he prepared himself for a task that in any ordinary setting would have been distasteful. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the luxury of maintaining his civility.
With the water running to mask the sound, he urinated into the sink.
After he was finished, he knocked on the door.
“Hey, Franco, I’m through with dinner.”
The door opened. “Stand over there,” said Franco, pointing to the chair that was now by the window. Kevin did as he was told, and Franco took the tray into the hall.
He came back in and said, “You need to hit the can before you go to sleep?”
“Yeah.”
Franco drew a Beretta automatic and waved it toward the hallway. “Come on.”
Kevin, with Franco and the gun at his back, walked down the hall he had come through earlier. A Persian runner stretched down the middle of the hallway and polished oak flanked it to either side. Antique tables lined the hall at regular intervals, and fine tapestries hung where mirrors were absent. Intricate wainscotting ran the length of the hall. In all, Kevin supposed the effect was to be one of lavish opulence, but he found it overdone, as if someone had given an unlimited budget to a fledgling interior decorator.
The mansion was large enough so that the hall formed a complete circuit joined by the large staircase at the back of the house. A balcony overlooked the balustrade but ended about halfway around the circuit, giving way to several rooms. From his first walk to his room at the front of the house, Kevin had seen only one other room with its door open, and that had been a bedroom.
“Here,” Franco said when they had walked about fifty feet down the hallway. Kevin turned and saw him pointing at a door on the interior of the mansion, obviously chosen because it had no windows.
Kevin opened it to find a bathroom to equal the unbridled opulence of the hallway. Marble floors, brass fixtures, beveled mirrors, all shined and polished to perfection. He flicked the light switch and track lighting came on accompanied by a soft fan.
Franco shoved him into the spacious bathroom. “Go ahead.”
The door was still wide open, and Kevin began to shut it. Franco pushed it back, almost slamming into the wall.
“Uh-uh.”
Kevin was afraid that he wouldn’t get the privacy he needed, but he tried to appear angry. “Can’t I take a shit in peace? Where the hell am I going to go?”
Franco thought about it for a second, appraised the room’s dimensions, and then relented, releasing the door. “Okay, but I don’t want to hear that lock click. We got the key downstairs, so don’t bother.”
“Thank you,” said Kevin and closed the door.
Having taken care of his physical hygiene back in the other bathroom, he started to quietly search the cupboards for anything that might be of use to him, hoping that they hadn’t cleaned this bathroom out as well as the one in his room. The cabinet under the sink was bare, as were the six drawers to either side. He was careful not to bang the cabinet or drawers for fear of alerting Franco to what he was really doing. It was almost two minutes before he got to the cabinet behind the mirror. Still nothing. Kevin looked around the large bathroom, about to give up on finding anything, when he saw a linen closet which doubled as a stand up mirror.
The closet had no handle, and the edge cutout to open it had been so ingeniously integrated into the mirror’s design that he almost hadn’t noticed the door. He tiptoed over to it and held his breath as he opened it.
Six evenly-spaced shelves went from top to bottom, and immediately Kevin could see the bare white space. His hope faded, but he decided to look more thoroughly anyway in case something small had been missed. He began on the bottom shelf and made his way up.
The first five shelves were empty, and it appeared that the top one, which lay about two inches above his eye level, was as well. He stood on his toes to reach to the back. Kevin caught a glimpse of color toward the back of the shelf.
He strained as much as he could to see to the back, and he became excited when he saw a number of bottles and cans shoved together. He couldn’t be sure from this angle, but he thought one said ammonia and another that could have been a blue and white bottle of Clorox bleach.
Whoever had emptied out the bathroom must have been shorter than Kevin. From a lower angle, the person would never have been able to see the cleaning fluids bunched on the top shelf. It was exactly what Kevin had been hoping for.
He reached his hand to the back and the tips of his fingers brushed against one of the cans. He felt it nudge and gasped involuntarily when he realized it was about to fall. The noise would surely raise suspicions outside. He strained even harder until it felt as if his arm would come out of the socket and was able to steady the can.
He looked at his watch. He’d been in the bathroom five minutes now. Any longer and Franco might barge in on him without knocking. He didn’t have time to inventory what was up there. It would have to wait for the next visit.
Kevin silently closed the closet door, then walked heel-to-toe over to the toilet and flushed it. After washing his hands and toweling off, he opened the door. Franco stood on the other side of the hallway with his gun drawn.
“I guess this one worked,” he said.
Kevin nodded, stepping into the hall. “I like this bathroom a lot better.”