He turned and went back the other way, so that he came to the hotel along the side street where there was a small, rarely used entrance that was locked after a certain time at night. And just as he turned into the doorway, he noticed another guy standing up on the corner ahead, but looking in the other direction. He was casually dressed, but wrong somehow, wrong for that street, in the way he was standing, in everything about him.
It suggested they were escalating the situation, putting all their available assets in place, and that meant Dan and Inger had to move out of here now. With that thought, he picked up his speed and turned before reaching the main lobby, climbing the stairs rather than waiting for an elevator.
The corridor on their floor was empty, a deceptive calm, but he stopped for a moment between their rooms, listening, taking in the quality of the stillness. He knocked on her door then. There was no reply, but there was no movement, either. He checked his watch and knocked louder, thinking she might be asleep or in the bath.
He checked his watch again, took out his gun, and attached the silencer, an emptiness creeping into his stomach. He was tempted to knock one more time, but he knew there would be no answer now and didn’t want to think through the possible reasons for that silence.
Instead, he opened his own door, his gun at the ready, though the room was apparently empty, even emptier than he’d left it. He hadn’t got around to unpacking his case and had simply left it near the door, but it had gone now.
He stepped inside, covering the angles, checking the bathroom, even the closet, and all the time he was trying to imagine a benign scenario that might explain the disappearance of both Inger and his case.
It was only once he was satisfied the room was empty that he spotted the sheet of notepaper left on the desk. He walked over and glanced down at it without picking it up, a couple of lines scrawled across the page.
Get out of the hotel! Switch on your phone!!
She hadn’t signed it, but despite the alarm of the message he couldn’t help but smile, relieved—she’d left of her own accord. He could even allow himself some bemusement now, that she was actually a step ahead of him.
He walked over to the window as he switched on his phone. The two guys were out of the car and a couple more were standing talking to them. The guy who’d been crouching down near the car earlier had gone, so by Dan’s reckoning, that meant there were at least six here.
The phone buzzed in his hand and he looked down at the screen—three missed calls from Inger. He returned one of them and held the phone to his ear.
She answered instantly, saying, “Where are you?”
The men standing down by the car had a businesslike air about them, he thought, as if they were gearing up for something rather than just idling or awaiting orders.
“You left a note,” he said.
“Dan, you have to leave. I’ll tell you more later, but you have to move now.”
Her voice was calm, but there was an urgency about it that set him on edge.
“Okay, I’ll call back.”
“No, wait! Do you have a pen?”
“Sure.” He walked over to the desk, grabbed the notebook and pencil and scribbled down the number she reeled off to him. “Thanks. I’ll call you soon.”
“Dan . . .”
She hesitated, perhaps torn between what she wanted to say and her need to keep a professional veneer.
“Twenty minutes, max. I’ll call you back.”
He ended the call and turned off the phone as he walked back to the window, then searched the street below, his heart kicking up a gear as he realized they’d gone—the car was still there, but the guys who’d been standing there a minute before had moved on.
He acted quickly now, slipping out of the room, walking fast along the corridor and down the stairs. He hadn’t gone far, though, when he heard an American accent heading in the opposite direction, talking quietly, but clearly audible in the thick-carpeted hush.
“Just heading onto second. Hold position . . .”
Dan backtracked, skipping back up the stairs and along the corridor, in through the door to the service stairs. He hurtled down them, taking each short flight in a couple of steps, and paused only briefly at the bottom to catch his breath, to listen to the hotel around him.
Six—there were at least six of them, a few to cover the exits, a few to trawl the hotel. On the other hand, it was a big place, so maybe that would work against them, stretching them thin.
He stepped out through the door and turned into the corridor that led to the side entrance. But he’d only covered half the distance when he noticed there was a car parked there now, and even as he was wondering if it was one of theirs, a guy strolled into view, chatting on the phone, perhaps the guy who’d been standing on the corner a little earlier.