Hansen entered by a side door, went up an empty staircase to the fifth floor, paused outside Frears's room, and readied the card keyprogrammed by Hansen himself to open any door in the Sheratonin his left hand and the.38 in his right. The pistol, of course, would later be found in Kurtz's flophouse room. The knifewhich would not be the murder weapon, but which would draw blood as if the two men were fighting over itwould be found in the hotel room. Hansen had taken care to wait until the maids would be done with their housekeeping and the long hallway was empty as he keyed the door open. The chain lock was not on. Hansen had planned to hold his badge up to the peephole if it had been.
As soon as Hansen saw the sterile, empty room and neatly made bed, he knew that Frears had fled.
Damn it . Hansen immediately asked forgiveness from the Lord for his curse.
He closed the door, went out to his SUV, and used a disposable cell phone to call the Sheraton's front desk. "This is Detective Hathaway of the Buffalo Police Department, badge number" He rattled off the retired number he'd looked up in the dead detective's file. "We're returning a call from one of your guests, ah" He paused a few seconds as if looking up the name. "Mr. John Frears. Could you ring him for me, please?"
"I'm sorry, Detective Hathaway, Mr. Frears checked out this morning. About three hours ago."
"Really? He wanted to talk to us. Did he leave a forwarding address or number?"
"No, sir. I was the one who checked Mr. Frears out and he just paid his bill and left."
Hansen took a breath. "I'm sorry to bother you with all this, Mr."
"Paul Sirsika, Detective. I'm the day manager here."
"Sorry to bother you with all this detail, Mr. Sirsika, but it might be important. Was there someone with him when he checked out? Mr. Frears had some concerns for his safety, and I need to ascertain that he didn't leave under duress."
"Under duress? Good heavens," said the clerk. "No, I don't remember anyone at the counter with him or seeing him speak with anyone else, but there were other people in the lobby at the time."
"Did he leave alone?"
"I don't recall anyone going out with Mr. Frears, but I was busy with other guests checking out."
"Sure. Do you know if he called a cab or caught one outside? Or perhaps he mentioned something about the airport or catching a flight?"
"He didn't mention a flight to me or ask me to call a cab, Detective Hathaway. He might have hailed one outside. I could ask our bell captain."
"Would you do that, please? I'd appreciate it."
The clerk was back in a minute. "Detective Hathaway? Clark, our bell captain, remembers Mr. Frears leaving but noticed that he did not take a cab. Clark said that he was walking to the parking lot, carrying his suitcase in one hand and his violin case in the other when Clark last saw him."
"So Mr. Frears had a rental car?" asked Hansen. "The license number would be on your registration card and in the computer."
"Just a second, please, Detective." The clerk was sounding a bit peevish now. "Yes, sir. It says that the vehicle was a white Ford Contour. Mr. Frears did give us a tag number when he checked in. I have it here if you'd like it."
"Go ahead," said Hansen. He memorized the number rather than write it down.
"I wish I could help you more, Detective."
"You've been a big help, Mr. Sirsika. One last question. Did you or any of the other clerks or bellhopsor perhaps someone working in the restaurant or gift shopnotice anyone visiting Mr. Frears, dining with him, calling for him?"
"I would have to ask everyone," said Clerk Sirsika, sounding very put-upon now.
"Would you do that, please? And call and leave a message at this number?" said Hansen. He gave them his private line at work.
Hansen used his phone to have "Detective Hathaway" call all of the rental-car agencies at the airport. The white Contour was a Hertz vehicle, rented by Mr. Frears eight days ago upon his arrival in Buffalo, rental extended six days ago. It had not been returned. It was an open-ended rental. Hansen thanked the clerk and drove around the hotel parking lot, checking to make sure that the car was not there. His next step would be to check airlines to see if Frears had flown out without returning the car, but Hansen did not want Detective Hathaway to do more phoning than he had to.
The white Contour was parked near the far end of the lot. Hansen made sure no one was watching, slim-jimmed the driver's door open, checked the interiornothingand popped the trunk. No luggage. Frears had left with someone.
Driving his Cadillac SUV back toward police headquarters on the Kensington, Hansen mentally reviewed everything Frears had told Detective Pierceson when the violinist had made out his airport-sighting report. Frears had said that he knew no one in Buffalo other than some of the booking people at Kleinhan's Music Hall, where he had played his two concerts. Them and someone he had known years ago at Princeton.
Hansen couldn't close his eyes while driving, but he mentally did so in a trick he had used since he was a kid to recall entire pages of text with perfect recall. Even as he drove on the Kensington, he could see Pierceson's report on the interview with Frears the week before.