Chapter 12

HE WANTED TO GET HER NAKED IN A BED....

"That Towers chap just isn't working out, Paul. I can't make a good hotel man out of him. We'll have to let him go."

"Can you be more specific, Bruce?" Paul Larson pretended to be seriously impressed and gave no sign that he was aware of the plot. "He looked pretty good to me."

Bruce West shuffled uncomfortably as if realizing he had made a bad play, a stupid one, the sort of thing that could be expected from a desperate man trying to fight at a blind panic he couldn't see.

"It's hard to pin it down, Paul. You know, when you have the feel for a hotel, you sense whether or not a man is right. He just isn't."

"I understand what you mean about developing a feel, Bruce. I've been in the business quite a while myself. Still, I haven't spotted the flaws in Jack Towers. Can you give me any examples? For instance, has he insulted any of the guests?"

"Not with words, not directly. I've spotted him when he didn't know I was looking. The way he looks over some of the female ones, you can almost see him stripping them naked with his eyes."

"I suppose some of them would be flattered. He's a good looking young man," Paul grinned as he enjoyed playing the game.

"Oh yes, of course," Bruce amended his charge hastily, "some of them do, the cheap ones, but a lot look pretty offended to me. As for the husbands, well, I don't expect to see them at the Grange again."

"Well now, that does sound more serious than I thought. Is there anything else?"

"There is one thing more," Bruce looked down as if terribly uncomfortable. "I didn't want to say anything about it, but I think I owe it to you."

"Go ahead, Bruce, what is it?"

"Well, it's about your daughter Calla,"

"You think she and Jack Towers are up to something?" Paul looked duly impressed and anxious to hear more.

"Oh no, not like that. It's the things Jack says about her. About what he plans to do to her. You know, getting her naked in bed. He uses some pretty crude words and keeps telling me how her type can't resist him. It's pretty dirty."

Pretending to be horrified at what he heard, Paul Larson held his head in his hands as he thought. The way his daughter talked about Jack with stars in her eyes, he was prepared to bet that the two had already spent some delightful times in bed.

That was clean and normal. The filth the assistant manager was trying to plant couldn't touch them. It was merely spilling over himself, adding to what was already there.

The game had been fun in a way, but Paul wanted to call a halt. He had heard enough.

"I'll tell you what, Bruce. You know I dislike firing people. Give me a few days to think it all over. In the meantime, keep your eyes open. I'll have a chat with him today and give him the word that he should shape up."

"Don't do that." There was an edge of panic in the tone. "I mean, he'll just deny everything I said and it will be even harder to handle him."

"Trust me, Bruce. I won't tell him I've talked to you about him. It will be coming straight from me. Let's see, it's quarter to eleven, I'll call him in around eleven-thirty and see if I can straighten him out."

"I don't think you should, Paul. I think it's a waste of time. That boy is trouble and nothing but."

Paul indicated that the conversation was over and Bruce left the office. Yes, Paul thought, he is trouble Bruce, but only for you. I trusted and liked you. If he shows me that you've been stealing from me, I'll make you very sorry. If I live long enough, he was forced to add.

At eleven-thirty, Paul called the front desk and asked for Jack to come to his office. Bruce wore a haunted look as the young man walked confidently into the owner's office.

"Hi, Jack," Paul greeted him warmly. "Have you come up with anything yet?"

"I think I have but I want to check out two more little angles to wrap it all up. If you don't mind, I'd like to keep it close to the vest until then."

"Fine, fine. A few weeks ago, I woldn't have been able to bring myself to suspect him. That has changed now. He was telling me why you should be fired because of your immoral attitude toward women, especially Calla about whom you've been saying pretty terrible things."

"Is that right?" Jack grinned. "Shame on me. As far as your daughter is concerned, Mister Larson, I'm developing some pretty strong feelings, but they're very normal. I'd like to talk to you about that when this mess is cleaned up."

"I'll look forward to that Jack. She couldn't happen to a nicer guy. I suppose she's told you about me, my health."

"Yes," Jack answered simply because there was nothing more to say.

The man's statement had seemed to be encouragement to Jack to go ahead with his plans for the daughter and do something about it before death claimed the father of the bride.

"Have you got the figures for yesterday yet?" Jack asked in a quick change of subject.

"Yes, I got them about twenty minutes ago." He drew a sheet covered with typed figures toward him. "What do you want to know?"

"What was the total incoming yesterday?"

"A hundred and thirty-four," the man answered without looking at the sheet.

"That figures," Jack sounded pleased. "Calla and I kept a close watch on the desk right around the clock. Our list shows one thirty-eight. Here's a list of the room numbers."

"You have the numbers?" Paul was excited now.

"Yes. Have Calla check them against the official list. When she finds the four extras, she should check with housekeeping to see if the rooms were occupied. She should check with room service, dining room and bar as well to get the total picture."

"She'll have everything for you in less than an hour."

"There's no hurry. I take my lunch break at one. Ask her to meet me then at the Burma Road bar. She knows it."

"She'll be there with the information, don't worry and Jack, thank you. Thank you very much for everything. This would have been too much for Calla to handle alone and I've just run out of gas."

"I hope you haven't Mister...." Jack stopped and changed his mind, "Paul. As for thanks, I don't need it. Meeting your daughter was the best thing that ever happened to me. It was and is a pleasure."

Paul stood and with eyes more than a little moist, extended his hand. The two men shook hands with warmth and respect and mutual admiration.

One was preparing for the arrival of death while the other looked forward to the beginning of life and yet, they had so much in common.

It was the bond of manhood, a bond that is felt and understood only by real men and both qualified.