Check in to Danger by Joan Lowery Nixon Page B

Jennifer said, “but your idea won’t work.”
    Sean plopped onto the bench. “Why not?” he asked.
    “The hotel has an electronic security system and four security guards,” Jennifer explained. “Every single one of the employees, including the guards, must check in and out at a desk by a special door and pass through a metal detector.”
    “Meat wouldn’t set off a metal detector,” said Sean.
    “You’re right,” said Jennifer. “But it would be very bulky, and everything an employee takes out of the hotel is examined.”
    “Everything?” asked Brian. “What about bags and purses?”
    Jennifer nodded. “All purses have to be made of clear plastic so that the contents can be seen. The security check was the sheriff’s idea because a lot of big hotels—even department stores—use it. But it hasn’t helped a bit in stopping the thefts or finding the thief.”
    She sighed. “Our hotel’s chief of security, Mr. Otis, is going crazy because even though he keeps someone on his staff in and around the kitchen area, he can’t find out who’s stealing the meat or how it’s being taken out of the hotel.”
    “Good surveillance,” Brian said, and made a note. “Tell me, what’s the sheriff been doing?”
    “He went over the personnel files with Dad, took some fingerprints from the meat lockers, questioned some of the employees, and checked records. He comes out every time Dad calls him about another theft, but he can’t figure out what the thief’s doing, either.”
    “It’s called the MO,” Brian said, and explained. “Modus operandi. It means the thief’s method of operation.”
    “Wow!” Jennifer said. “You sound so professional, Brian.”
    Sean made another gagging face, but Brian ignored him. “I may have the answer to part of the problem,” he said. “I remember that Dad once told me about a hotel where food was being stolen from the kitchen. Two employees were wrapping up big roasts and hams and throwing them out with the day’s garbage into the trash bins outside. Then when they left, late at night, they’d pull their food packages out of the trash and drive off with them. They sold the meat to a restaurant owner who was more interested in getting a good bargain than in being honest.” Brian smiled importantly at Jennifer. “What we need to do is keep watch tonight near the trash bins.”
    “I’m sorry, Brian, but that idea won’t work, either,” Jennifer told him. “Meat thefts have been done that way so often, it’s the first thing Mr. Otis looked for.”
    Sean grinned smugly as Brian stopped looking so important. “Any more questions?” Sean asked.
    Brian scowled at him, then turned back to Jennifer. “Do you know what time of day or night the thefts take place?”
    “No,” she said, “but when one of the cooks notices that something is missing, it’s always been during the daytime, never at night.”
    Brian made another note. “How many people are employed at the Piney Point?” he asked.
    “Almost two hundred,” Jennifer answered.
    “Two hundred!” Sean groaned. “Brian, if we investigate all of them, we’ll never have time to go swimming!”
    Brian shook his head. “We only need to investigate the people who have access to the kitchen,” he said. “Jennifer, besides the hotel employees, who else can get into the kitchen?”
    “The people who deliver the food each morning,” she answered, “but the sheriff told Dad he didn’t see how they could be involved. The meat deliveries are checked to make sure everything in the order is there. The delivery men leave, and the order is double-checked as it’s put into the refrigerated meat lockers.”
    “What about the hotel staff the sheriff questioned?” Brian asked. “Is there any way we can find out their names and why he questioned them?”
    Jennifer nodded. “Dad was with the sheriff, and he talked about the interviews with Mom at dinnertime, so I heard it all, too. There’s Caesar, the head chef.