Murder in the Hotel: A Daniel Swift Mystery
Murder in the Hotel
Penelope Sotheby
~~~
Launch Team Edition
Copyright © 2017 Penelope Sotheby
First published in 2017 by Jonmac Limited.
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters and places, incidents are used entirely fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.
Launch Team Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for individuals on the Penelope Sotheby Launch Team Distribution List. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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Other Books By The Author
Murder in Bermuda (Book 1 in the "Murder in Paradise" series)
Murder in the Bahamas (Book 2 in the "Murder in Paradise" series)
Murder in Jamaica (Book 3 in the "Murder in Paradise" series)
Murder in Barbados (Book 4 in the "Murder in Paradise" series)
Murder in Aruba (Book 5 in the "Murder in Paradise" series)
Murder at the Inn
Murder on the Village Green (A Diane Dimbleby Cozy Mystery)
Murder in the Neighbourhood (A Diane Dimbleby Cozy Mystery)
Murder on a Yacht (A Diane Dimbleby Cozy Mystery)
Murder in the Village (A Diane Dimbleby Cozy Mystery)
Murder in the Mail (A Diane Dimbleby Cozy Mystery)
Table Of Contents
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Other Books By The Author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
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Chapter 1
The check was almost burning a hole in Kate Paglio’s purse when she finally made it to the front of the line at Key West Central Savings and Loan. She pulled out the check, then handed over her identification and a notarized letter from Sean Oprah giving her the authority to cash the check in his absence.
“Good afternoon, and welcome to Key West Central Savings and Loan,” said a bright-eyed, perky teller with brown, curly hair and a slightly turned-up nose. “What can I do for you today?”
“I need to cash this,” Kate replied, handing the teller the check, her identification, and the notarized letter. “All one hundred dollar bills will be fine.”
“Ok,” the teller said. She picked up the check, her eyes widening a little at the amount.
“Do you have an account with us?” she asked.
“No,”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to open one today? Key West Central Savings and Loan offers a variety of checking and savings account options tailored to meet your needs.”
“No, I don’t want to open an account, I just want to cash that check.”
The teller smiled, looked at the account number on the check and began typing into her computer terminal. She stopped, reviewed the identification and letter Kate had provided and returned her attention to the computer. After several seconds of reviewing the information, she frowned.
“Is there a problem?” Kate asked.
“I’m going to have to speak with my manager. If you wouldn’t mind waiting right over there,” the teller pointed to a small waiting area near the front of the bank. “I shouldn’t be too long.”
Before Kate could object or ask questions, the teller put out a sign telling patrons to go to the next window and hurried away with the check, ID, and letter. Kate reluctantly walked over to the waiting area. She watched the teller go into a large glass office near the back of the bank. Although she could not read the nameplate on the office door from where she stood, she suspected that it was indeed the person in charge.
Alex Hamilton had been the bank branch manager for the past seven years. He had started his employment with Key West Central Savings and Loan as a junior teller shortly out of high school. As he climbed the ladder at the bank, he worked his way through night school to an accounting degree followed by an MBA. He kept two pictures on his desk - a wedding photo and a picture of him the day he was promoted to bank manager in the Key West branch of Central Savings and Loan.
The teller knocked lightly on Hamilton’s door. He waved her in, not taking his eyes off of the laptop screen in front of him.
“Mr. Hamilton, I have a check cash request that I wanted to run by you first,”
“Fine, what it is?” he asked, still not taking his eyes off the screen.
“It’s a check for $20,000 on the account of a man named Bill Levy,”
At Bill Levy’s name, Hamilton looked up from his screen, closed the laptop and motioned for the teller to sit down. She handed over the check, Kate Paglio’s ID and the notarized letter. The bank manager studied the check and letter.
“I presume this woman is still here, um, uh, Terry?”
“It’s Tonya sir, and yes, she is still here. I asked her to wait in the sitting area off of the lobby.”
“Good job, Tonya, please let her know that we are working on it, and I will be with her as soon as possible.”
Tonya, the teller, nodded and left the room. As he picked up the phone and dialed, he watched her walk over to the woman and talk with her. The phone picked up on the third ring, and a woman answered.
“Hello?”
“Joanna? This is Alex Hamilton,”
“Oh, hello Alex, Scott’s not here. Is there something I can do for you?”
Scott and Joanna Kirby were valuable customers of Key West Central Savings and Loan, as well as close personal friends to Alex and his wife, Charla. Hamilton was well aware of Scott’s eccentric uncle, Bill Levy, who lived with the Kirby family. He was often the topic of discussion at the many dinner parties they had attended together. Scott had expressed concern that his uncle was not managing his money or his checkbook well, and had asked Alex to be on the lookout for anything peculiar. Alex had agreed to help. Within the boundaries of the law, of course.
“Well, we have a woman here trying to cash a check on Scott’s uncle’s account,”
“A check? For how much?”
“It’s for $20,000.”
“Well that’s ridiculous, who is trying to cash it?”
“A woman named Kate Paglio. Do you know her?”
“Never heard of her.”
“Well, the check is actually made out to a Sean Oprah, she has a notarized letter giving her authority to cash it for him. Do you know that name? Sean Oprah?”
“No, also never heard of him. I’m so glad you caught this, Alex. That check should not be cashed, as I am sure Bill is not in
his right mind.”
“What should I tell Ms. Paglio?” Hamilton asked.
“Tell her the truth, tell her that Bill Levy is as crazy as they come. I don’t know if he gave her, or Sean Oprah or whoever that check or if she stole it, but it should not be honored.”
Joanna felt the receiver of the phone being jerked away from her. She looked up to find Bill Levy staring angrily down at her. She let go of the receiver and backed away from him.
“Hello, this is Bill Levy, who is this?”
“Mr. Levy, this is Alex Hamilton, I am the bank manager at Key West Central Savings and Loan. I have a woman in here named Kate Paglio trying to cash a check on your account made out to Sean Oprah. It is for a large amount - $20,000 - so I wanted to make sure it was acceptable to cash.”
“Yes, honor the check. And the next time you want to ask a question about my account, you need to talk to me.”
“Yes sir,” Hamilton said sheepishly. “Thank you for your patronage.”
Bill hung up the phone and looked to where Joanna had been standing, intending to give her a piece of his mind about getting in his business and telling people he was crazy. She was gone, however, and Bill did not have the time or energy to chase her down. He would talk to his nephew about this later. He was very appreciative of Scott and Joanna taking him and his wife, Lindsay, into their home, but the boundaries that had been set were definitely getting crossed.
After the phone call with Bill Levy, Alex Hamilton took the check and accompanying paperwork back to the teller and told her to proceed. He then walked over to Kate and apologized for the wait.
“It should be just a few more minutes,” he explained. “I’m sorry it took so long, but with such a large amount I am sure you understand that we have checks and balances in place.”
Kate nodded and thanked Hamilton before returning to the teller, Tonya, who counted out $20,000 in one-hundred dollar bills twice. Kate scooped up the money, left the bank and hailed a cab. She rode about two miles from the bank to a pub near the small apartment she shared with her husband, Sean Oprah, on the west coast of Key West. She paid the cab driver and went inside Hooligan’s Bar and Grill. Sean was sitting in a booth near the back, and Kate joined him.
“Did you get it?” he asked.
“Sure did,” she said smiling. “It was a little touch and go there for a bit, but I got it done.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that the bank took a little while. I think they called Bill Levy to make sure the check was legit. Whatever happened, they gave me the cash.”
“Good girl,” Sean said, leaning over and planting a kiss on Kate’s lips.
“Where are we supposed to meet the PI?” Kate asked.
“Behind the bar. Give me $500 off the top and stuff the rest somewhere safe.”
Kate nodded, handed Sean five one-hundred dollar bills under the table and put the envelope with the remaining cash in the back of her pants. She covered her pants with her coat and stood. Sean stopped at the bar, gave the bartender twenty dollars to cover his bill and tip and walked out of the pub with Kate. They headed around the corner to the alley to meet up with Jake Keenan.
Chapter 2
Jake Keenan was a licensed private investigator from Atlantic City, New Jersey. Most of his cases were tracking down deadbeats who owed the casinos money or finding criminals on the run from their bail bondsman. He was flying under the radar at the Tropicana one night about a year earlier, waiting with a pen camera for a cheating husband to make a move on the woman he was sitting with. The woman who was not his wife. Keenan knew this was not his wife because the actual woman of the house hired him to get the photos. He’d just managed to get the money shot before a man sat down next to him and offered to buy him a drink.
“Thanks buddy, but my door doesn’t swing that way,” Keenan said.
The man let out a raucous laughter before putting down one of Keenan’s special business cards. See, Keenan had two types of cards - legit and a little left of legit. He passed out his normal PI cards to the vanilla customers looking to catch someone in the act, or just catch someone. The left of legit cards were plain black cards with a small “JK” in the middle. Nothing else. These cards he passed out very sparingly, so when the stranger next to him put one down, Keenan was intrigued.
“Where did you get that?” he asked.
“A mutual friend,” the man replied.
“Funny, I ain’t got many friends,” Keenan said, starting to get up.
“Me neither, but I do have a job with a big payout. I need some help finding someone. I hear you’re the guy that can do it.”
Keenan was intrigued and sat back down on his bar stool. He picked up the card, made sure it was actually one of his and told the man he could buy him that drink now. The man’s name was Sean Oprah, and he was looking to find a guy named Bill Levy.
“Why are you looking for this guy?” Keenan asked him.
“Not really an important part of your job, I just need to find him. Let’s just say he owes me a lot of money. You help me find him, and I will split whatever I get from him with you.”
“What do you mean by a lot?” To some people, fifty bucks is a lot. I don’t get worked up about fifty bucks.”
“Tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands.”
“Maybe, huh? Well, maybe I think you are either crazy or looking for some free PI work. Either way, I think you better keep moving.”
“I’m not crazy. Crazy is chasing parole violators and getting beat up by cheating husbands for pocket change. It’s all perspective I suppose.”
Sean turned to leave, and Keenan realized he was absolutely right. What was the harm of getting a little more information on what could turn out to be the big score he had been waiting for?
“Hold up. Take your seat, and tell me everything you can about this Bill Levy.”
Chapter 3
Exactly thirteen months later, Jake Keenan stood leaning against a dirty brick wall in an alley behind a Key West bar. He had managed to track down Bill Levy and was expecting his cut of the money Sean Oprah had gotten from him. He would walk away with $10,000, and the expectation of more to come. He jerked his head up when he heard the click-clack of heels on the paved alley. Sean and his wife were heading toward him.
“Good to see you, Jake,” Sean said putting his hand out.
Jake looked at the hand and considered ignoring it, but as this was the client, he thought better of it. He shook Sean’s hand firmly, but very briefly.
“You remember my wife, Kate?” asked Sean
“Yeah, yeah, I remember. Let’s get this moving. I don’t know why you picked this crap-hole alley to meet in, but it stinks, and I want out of here. Where is my money?”
“Understood, just trying to fly under the radar,” Sean said, handing Keenan five hundred dollars.
Keenan looked down at the money and then back at Sean. “Is this some kind of joke?” he asked. “Where is my ten grand?”
“I assume you’ve heard the old adage, the customer is always right? Well, I am the customer, and I feel that your services are worth five hundred dollars.”
Keenan felt the redness start spreading from his neck across his face. He stepped toward Sean, yelling profanities and taking on a fighter’s stance. Right when he was about to take a swing at Sean, Kate pulled a .38 out of her purse and pointed it directly at him.
“Just hold it right there,” she said.
Keenan stepped back, furious at himself for leaving his own piece in the car. He had been fooled by these two, and that was not something that happened very often.
“Why don’t you put the gun down lady? Just give me my ten grand, and we all walk away safe and sound.”
“You heard my husband. Customer being right and all. Why don’t you take your five hundred bucks and get out of here?”
Keenan started to step forward again when Kate grabbed the gun by both hands an
d pointed it squarely at his center mass. “I do hate repeating myself, so let me try saying it another way. Go away now, or I will start pointing this thing at all the places I think will really, really hurt. Then I’ll just pick one.”
Jake glared at Kate, walked slowly towards Sean and took the five hundred dollars. “This isn’t over,” he said before leaving the alley. Sean and Kate watched to make sure Keenan was out of sight and walked into the pub through the back alley door for a drink.
Chapter 4
Keenan, furious from the encounter, climbed into his car and pulled out the file on Bill Levy. He scrolled through the pages until coming across the contact information for Scott Kirby. While he does not know what is behind the payday, Keenan has been around long enough to know blackmail when he sees it. The quickest way to shut down the blackmailer is to shut down the money. He picked up his cell phone and dialed Kirby’s number.
“Hello?” a male voice answered.
“Yes, is this Scott Kirby?” Keenan asked.
“Look, buddy, I don’t want whatever it is you’re selling,” Scott replied.
“Even if it’s related to a $20,000 check that was cashed on your uncle’s account today?”
“Who is this?”
“Just a guy looking to even a score, I got ripped off by a couple looking to take your uncle Bill Levy to the cleaners.”
“How do you know about all this?”
“I know because I was hired to find Bill Levy by a guy who said your uncle owes him a lot of money. I found him. I told Sean Oprah about it, and I was not paid for my work. I don’t want those lying con-artists to get one more dime out of the job I did. So I’m calling you to put a stop to it.”
“And you don’t want any money from us?” he asked.
“Look buddy, I’ll always take some cash. But you don’t owe me anything. Just watch out for those two, or they will take your uncle for every dime he has.”