Chapter 57
Cook took a room. He had to wait behind the butler for a large family of refugees that sat, disconsolately, in the corner of the lobby. Each of them clung onto their trunk as if they were in imminent danger of robbery.
When it was his turn, he asked for the cheapest room available, braving the grimaces of the desk clerk – an ancient, wrinkled gentleman in an impeccable uniform, his starched collar so tightly buttoned around his neck, Cook marvelled that he could breathe.
‘Just the one night, sir?’ the clerk asked, in an accusing tone.
‘Found myself in town unexpectedly,’ Cook said, feeling like a boy who’d been caught scrumping apples.
‘Will you need any help with your luggage, sir?’ the clerk pressed.
‘No luggage,’ Cook admitted.
‘I see,’ the clerk said. He consulted a ledger, moving slowly down the list of entries, as if he was trying to decide whether to grant Cook the beneficence of a stay under the hallowed roof.
‘Early meeting with General Blakeney tomorrow,’ Cook added. Over-egging it, perhaps.
The clerk looked shocked, and glanced at a large poster on a cork board.
Loose Lips Sink Ships
‘Quite right,’ Cook said.
He gave a false name, checking in as Archie Conway.
Archie was a sergeant Cook had known in India.
He’d died trying to defend a stronghold overlooking the Khyber Pass.
Conway had joined up to escape the poverty he’d been born into.
A familiar story. But Conway was different.
Unlike most of the men, he’d been on a mission to change his circumstances.
Rather than going out drinking with the rest of the lads, he’d sent every penny home.
He had a sweetheart, used to talk about setting up house with her.
Something modest. A few children. A vegetable garden.
A job that would keep a roof over their heads and food on the table.
A good lad. Archie would never have allowed himself the extravagance of a night at the Empire, so Cook would do it for him.
‘Ruby been in recently?’ Cook asked, as the desk clerk got his key.
‘Sir?’ The clerk had been looking away at the moment Cook had asked, so he’d had a second to set his face. Lucky for Cook, he was a terrible actor. The name clearly meant something to him.
‘Ruby Reynolds,’ Cook said. ‘She told me to look her up, next time I was in town. Said she’d be at the bar.’
The clerk shook his head, and turned the ledger for Cook to sign in. As he did so, another clerk leant over. The two of them conferred.
‘Ruby Reynolds?’ Cook’s clerk asked him.
‘Yes,’ Cook replied.
‘I think I know where she is,’ the clerk said, sliding a key across the counter. ‘Give me half an hour and I’ll send her up. Room nine twelve.’
Cook had been right. She was here, and she was working. Not so surprising after all. Not many prospects for a girl growing up by the docks.
There was a queue for the lift. Cook was about to turn back, look for the stairs, when the lift announced itself with a bell, and the doors slid open. A lift attendant, even older than the man at the front desk, welcomed everyone in, as if he was bestowing some kind of gift on them.
The throng crowded in, and Cook found himself wedged between a tall dowager in a fur coat, diamond tiara setting off her perfectly styled hair, and a rather large man, straining at the seams of his dinner suit.
As they jostled for position, Cook felt the unmistakable solidity of a gun, holstered on the man’s hip.
A bodyguard, Cook presumed. Not a very effective one, if he’d allowed Cook to get between him and the dowager.
Cook was the last to leave the lift, and he felt the lift attendant’s eyes on his back as he walked slowly along the corridor. He was at the top of the hotel, practically up in the eaves. Infrequent windows in the corridor gave a view of the service alley.
The room was small. A single bed, a dusty chest of drawers. Didn’t look like the cleaners made it this far along the corridor. The kind of room given to a man with no luggage who’d come from the bar and found a girl he wanted to spend some time with.
Half an hour, the clerk had said. Cook took his shoes off and lay on the bed. The pillow smelt of cigarette smoke. Within seconds he was asleep.