Part 29 (1/2)
The manager waved a hand at the sofa. ”Please sit. I'll get the owner for you.”
Banner sat. Ten minutes later a tall, striking middle-aged woman with blond hair, a willowy body, and a regal air walked toward him. She wore impeccably fitting tailored pants with a white silk blouse and peered at him through expensive eyegla.s.ses that lent her a serious, professorial air. Banner stood to greet her. If she was indicative of the quality of the women inside, he was already impressed. She held out a hand to him.
”I'm Isabelle Kartiner, the owner here. I understand that you wish to speak to me?”
”I do. I'm looking for a particular client who may be inside. If he is, I need to arrange to get him out without anyone noticing.”
Ms. Kartiner gave Banner a sad smile. ”I apologize, but we will be unable to help you. Our clients insist on maintaining their privacy. We wouldn't last a week if it were discovered that we were free with their information.”
Banner tried another tack. ”Then I won't ask you to find him, but perhaps I can ask you questions that may reveal whether it's worth my while to remain?”
She smiled. ”I think it would be worth your while to remain in any event. Our girls are the best at what they do. I'm sure we could find one to suit you.”
”Thank you, but I don't normally frequent places like this.”
Ms. Kartiner gave him a shrewd look. ”Generally I wouldn't believe that statement, as many of our newer patrons claim to be novices to the trade yet really indulge themselves frequently. However, it occurs to me that a man with your looks would have little need to come here for female companions.h.i.+p.”
Banner smiled. She had delivered the compliment with an aplomb he admired.
”I imagine that the men who patronize your establishment don't come here because they are unable to obtain female companions.h.i.+p on the outside. I'll wager that they have other impulses that drive them to engage in such a transaction.”
Ms. Kartiner looked amused. ”That's true. And you? Do you have any impulses that you'd like to explore?”
Banner shook his head. ”Just the impulse to locate my friend.” He pointed to the entrance. ”Do they all leave through this door?”
She smiled. ”Yes. Do you wish to wait and see if he appears?”
”I do.”
”Please, make yourself comfortable. This isn't our main sitting room-we have a bar and lounge area upstairs, but only paying guests are allowed to proceed to that level. Nevertheless, I'll have a drink brought to you. There is the magazine rack”-she pointed to a Lucite rack that held magazines behind transparent sleeves-”and newspapers in every language are on that wall”-she pointed to a wooden ladder that held folded newspapers. ”What would you like to drink?”
”A double espresso would be greatly appreciated.”
”Of course.” She glided away, her heels making a clicking sound on the marble floor.
Banner watched her as she left. As professional as she was, it was clear to him that she wouldn't give him the information he needed. Despite what he'd told her, he didn't have the time to sit in the lobby waiting for the off chance that Rickell would emerge from the upstairs rooms. He was going to have to work on the manager some more.
Ten minutes later a stunning c.o.c.ktail waitress appeared carrying a black tray. This one was young; Banner estimated that she was no more than twenty-five, with long, s.h.i.+ny brown hair and brown uptilted eyes set in an exotic face. She wore a short black dress that revealed miles of leg and high stiletto heels. She placed before him a narrow silver tray containing a black-and-white demita.s.se cup filled with thick, sweet-smelling coffee, a tiny silver spoon, and a gla.s.s of water. She bestowed a practiced, seductive smile on him.
”Can I get you anything else?” She also spoke in English, but with a slight Eastern European accent. Banner handed her a five-euro bill.
She refused the offer. ”Frau Kartiner said that you were not to be charged.”
Banner placed the money on the tray. ”Tell her thank you.”
”Shall I escort you inside? Frau Kartiner suggested that I ask you.”
Banner was beginning to understand why Frau Kartiner was the owner of the establishment. She had excellent marketing skills.
”I'll just stay here, thank you,” Banner said.
The young woman looked surprised. ”You're not going in?”
Banner shook his head. ”Not my habit.”
A look of yearning came over the woman's face. All the practiced seduction was gone. ”Then why are you here?”
”I'm looking for my friend. An American man about fifty years old.”
The woman looked puzzled. ”There aren't any Americans here right now. Only locals and a group of Asian men in town for a convention.”
Banner frowned. ”Are you sure?”
”Oh, yes. You see, it's early yet. While we have walk-ins, they don't typically occur until much later in the evening. The early hours are usually filled with the regulars and preregistered conventioneers.”
Banner considered the girl worth her weight in gold, because he was now free to move on. He followed up his four euro bills with twenty more.
”Thanks for saving me a lot of time sitting here. Do you have any ideas where my friend might be? Are there any other establishments nearby?”
She seemed to consider his question. ”Does he have a specific requirement? If he does, that would narrow down the choices.” Banner knew nothing about Rickell's predilections, if he had any at all. If Rickell had been drugged, it meant his judgment was impaired. He could be acting in a manner foreign even to himself.
”None that I know of.”
”Try the Speakeasy. Two streets down and left. It's not as nice as here, but the American GIs like it.”
He could only hope that Rickell was not so impaired as to walk into a cathouse loaded with American army men. Banner would go there last.
”Anyplace else? He likes poker. Are there any places where he could play a game?”
The waitress turned toward the manager and fired off a long question in German.
The manager shook his head. He directed his attention to Banner. ”None of the houses have girls and a casino together.” He shrugged. ”Doesn't mean that call girls don't work off the books in casinos, but that's the same everywhere.”
Banner downed his espresso in one gulp. ”How about an off-the-books game in a regulated house?”
The manager gave Banner a knowing look. ”Try the VIP Lounge. It's a block north on the diagonal. There's no sign, just a small plaque that says *Private Club.' They often get a game going there.”
”Thanks.” Banner stood. The whole time he'd been there, not one man had entered. ”Is business always this slow?”
The manager smiled. ”Not at all, but there's a champions.h.i.+p soccer game on television tonight. Business is always slow when that happens.”
Banner didn't bother to hide his surprise. ”Soccer trumps women?”
The manager nodded. ”In Germany soccer trumps everything.”
48.