The Book With No Name by Anonymous Page B

of whisky was conveniently located on the bedside table, right at hand when he wanted to take another swig from it. This was the high life, for sure. It was how Marcus imagined Heaven would be, or at the very least it was how he imagined he would live if he were a king.
    He was sitting through the second episode of a BJ and The Bear double bill on one of the obscure satellite channels, when there was a gentle knock at the door.
    ‘Room service,’ a woman’s voice, slightly muffled, called through the woodwork.
    ‘I didn’t order no room service.’
    There was a pause. ‘Well, I’m, like, really the chambermaid. I’ve just come to make the bed and tidy up for you.’
    Marcus reached under the pillow at the head of the bed and pulled out his gun. The weapon always stayed under whatever he had for a pillow at night, just in case. And Marcus had been in a particularly paranoid mood the previous evening. He was at his most cautious for fear that Jefe would find him and exact some terrible revenge for the theft of his wallet and, more importantly, of the blue stone.
    He climbed off the bed and staggered to the door, realizing for the first time just how much he had drunk the night before. It suddenly dawned on him that he reeked of booze, and that his clothes were due for a wash, but his immediate concern was whoever was at the door claiming to be a chambermaid. When you’ve stolen a wad of cash and a precious stone from someone in Santa Mondega, you’d better watch your back for a few weeks and more.
    Covering the door with his pistol, he looked through the spyhole. In the corridor outside he could see a fair-skinned young woman in her early twenties wearing a typical black chambermaid’s outfit with a white apron. She looked harmless enough so he slipped his gun down the back of his leather trousers and opened the door, careful to keep the chain on the latch, just in case.
    ‘Good afternoon, Mister … Jefe, is it?’ asked the maid,reading his name from a piece of card in her hand. Marcus remembered he had booked into the hotel the night before using some of the cash from Jefe’s wallet. As identification he must have handed Jefe’s driving licence over to the clerk behind the desk.
    ‘Yeah, Jefe, that’s me. You wanna come in and tidy up the room, yeah?’
    ‘Yes please, Mister Jefe, but only if it’s convenient.’
    Marcus released the chain on the door and opened it for her.
    ‘Come on in, sweetcheeks. What’s your name?’
    ‘Kacy.’ She smiled at him, a real sweet smile, one that could melt a man’s heart. And Marcus’s heart was melting fast. This girl, this hotel maid standing before him, was absolutely gorgeous. It wasn’t that he still had his beer goggles on, this girl was just the sweetest thing he had seen in a long time. She looked like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, and she had great hair. The Weasel was a great admirer of women’s hair. Good hair was one of the things high up on his list of the assets that any prospective partner should have. This girl had silky shoulder-length dark hair. Real dark. Most of the guys in Santa Mondega were crazy about blondes because they were so hard to find in these parts, but not Marcus. He’d take a brunette every time.
    ‘I’ll be in and out in ten minutes … Mister Jefe. You’ll hardly notice I’m here,’ she said with a cheeky smile and what might almost have been a wink.
    ‘Now lookit here, Kacy, don’t you go feelin’ like you’ve gotta rush yourself outta here. Why don’t you stick around, have a drink with me?’
    The chambermaid giggled. It was a high-pitched giggle – a sure sign that she was into Marcus. He could tell these things. Thief’s intuition.
    ‘Well now, I’d love to, but I’m not allowed to fraternize with the customers inside the hotel.’
    ‘Then let’s us go out, baby,’ said Marcus, winking a salacious wink at her.
    Kacy blushed lightly for a second, but she was obviously enjoying the attention because