Part 22 (1/2)

The woman's breath smells of alcohol, and the d.i.l.d.o slips between his thighs. Her legs begin to give way and he holds her up, feeling her heavy b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his body.

'Can you stand?'

'I don't know if this thing is on right,' she mutters against his neck. 'Can you check the strap at the back?'

She turns round, leans one hand against the wall, knocking a brown wall-clock and making its plastic cover rattle.

'Have you seen Eugene?' Adam asks.

The black leather strap between her b.u.t.tocks has become twisted, and she feels along it with tired fingers.

'It's twisted,' Adam says.

He doesn't know what to do, hesitates, then tries to help her. He twists the strap twice, but notices that it's tangled further down as well.

Her skin is hot and sweaty, he's trembling and can feel how cold his fingers are as he follows the strap down between her b.u.t.tocks.

A naked man pushes past and weaves into the bathroom. He urinates without closing the door, or so much as glancing at them.

Adam can't help noticing that the leather strap between her legs is wet and slippery as he tries to adjust it. She stumbles again and leans her cheek against the wall, as the plastic clock sways on its hook.

A woman in the next room is whimpering, two men move through the pa.s.sageway, and then he sees the beautiful woman with the boyish haircut in the doorway. She's no longer wearing her pants. She's walking slowly towards the next room when she catches sight of him. She raises her champagne gla.s.s towards him in a toast, and he sees pale lip-prints on the rim.

The woman in front of him leans her shoulder against the wall, then slides down on to the floor and rests her cheek on the carpet.

The woman with the boyish haircut comes over to Adam, her neck looks flushed, and she leans into him, pressing her forehead to his chest, then looks up at him with a smile.

Adam can't help himself. He kisses her, and she responds, and he can feel her tongue-stud against his tongue.

He tells himself that he couldn't help it. It's wrong and he already knows that he's going to regret it and will feel terrible afterwards, but all he wants right now is to have s.e.x with her.

The woman on the floor mutters something about falling over, and pulls at his leg, making him sway.

When the woman with the boyish haircut opens his trousers, a wave of icy fear runs through him.

This is too easy, too tempting, he thinks.

But his hands are touching her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, they're warm and tense and powdered with something rough and glittery.

He's never seen such a beautiful woman.

He picks her up, pushes her back against the wall, and slides inside. Angst and l.u.s.t spin through him. He groans, and sees her mouth open and Saturn sparkles on her tongue. Her body billows and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s quiver with his thrusts. She's smiling, eyes closed, but she makes no noise, no groaning, and she doesn't really seem interested in what's happening, maybe she's too drugged.

Two women come into the pa.s.sageway and watch them for a while before they carry on.

The woman with the d.i.l.d.o has got to her feet, she's standing behind him and her hands are suddenly under his T-s.h.i.+rt, caressing his waist and back. He tries to pull away and doesn't know if she's felt his gun, but she suddenly stops, moves away from him, mutters something and lurches into the bedroom.

Adam knows his cover may have been blown, but he can't stop now. The woman says something to his neck, and he can smell a raspberry aroma from her mouth, she's trying to get him to slow down, puts her hand on his chest, but he moves her hand away and pushes her hard against the wall.

40.

When Adam enters the third room he immediately catches sight of Eugene Ca.s.sel. He's wearing a black top hat, but nothing else. Five people are having s.e.x with each other on the large bed. The shade of a table lamp is hanging askew and shaking in time with the movement of the bed. Eugene is on his knees behind a woman on all fours.

Her pearl necklace is swinging between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

The woman with the strap-on d.i.l.d.o comes staggering into the room after Adam. He watches her sit down on the edge of the bed, almost fall, then sit up again. Another woman takes hold of the d.i.l.d.o, says something and laughs. She replies, then coughs into her elbow.

'What did you say?'

'Tra-la-la-laa,' she smiles.

'OK.'

'The cops are here, tra-la-laa,' she repeats, and coughs again.

Eugene hears her words and stops, sits down on the bed and puts an arm on the woman's backside, and then turns to look at Adam.

'This is a private party,' he says with a look of disappointment.

'Is there somewhere we can talk in private?' Adam says, showing his police ID.

'Leave your card and I'll get my lawyers to call you on Monday,' Eugene says, and gets up from the bed.

Eugene is about forty years old, probably the oldest person in the suite of rooms. His naked, hairless body is in good shape, despite his protruding stomach. His erection has subsided. Beneath the rim of his hat a gold ring sparkles in his eyebrow, and his pupils are dilated.

'I need to find Filip Cronstedt,' Adam says.

'Good luck,' Eugene says, and raises his hat slightly. 'He isn't here, but I can give you a clue: follow the white rabbit.'

'Listen,' Adam says. 'We can leave the hotel nice and quietly, but if I have to, I'll put handcuffs on you in here and drag you all the way to the car.'

A woman with s.h.i.+mmering white skin and reddish-brown hair in two plaits over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s enters the room and comes over to Eugene.

'Shall I order some food?' she says, putting a joint to her lips.

'Still hungry?' he asks flirtatiously.

She nods and smiles, then exhales a narrow plume of smoke, and walks off towards the phone beside the bed.