Evil Star

Matt had nothing. Perhaps if he could work out how to use directory inquiries he might be able to get a number for Susan Ashwood back home in Manchester. But even that seemed complicated and somehow unlikely. How about the police? That was the obvious choice, although Matt doubted that the Peruvian boy would be too keen to show him the way to the nearest Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star station. Perhaps he could find his way to Barranco, the sub-urb where Fabian lived. It couldn't be too far from here.
    Then Matt remembered what the driver, Alberto, had said: Fabian was waiting for them at a hotel. What was its name? It took Matt a few moments to get his brain back into gear. The Hotel Europa. That was it. The Hotel Europa in Miraflores.
    The boy was still waiting for him to say something. Matt tapped himself on the chest. "Matt," he said. There was no point in hiding behind a false name just now.
    The boy nodded. "Pedro."
    So that was what he was called. And the strange thing was, Matt knew it already. He had been expecting it. Could he have heard it when he was asleep?
    "Do you know the Hotel Europa in Miraflores?" he asked.
    Pedro looked blank.
    Matt tried again, more slowly. "Hotel Europa." He pointed to himself. "I go."
    "Hotel Europa?" This time Pedro got it. "Si. . ."
    "Can you show me the way?" Matt gestured down the street. "Do you understand?"
    Pedro understood. But he wasn't agreeing to anything. Matt saw the doubt in his eyes. Why should he help this foreign boy?
    Matt took out the ten pounds. "If you take me there, I'll give you this. It's a lot of money."
    Pedro's eyes lasered in on the banknote. It was what he had been looking for in the first place. He nodded a sec-ond time. "Hotel Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star Europa," he repeated.
    "Let's go."
    The two of them set off.

    • • •
    It took them an hour to reach the hotel, a modern building twelve stories high, with a drive sweeping round to the front door, where a uniformed doorman was already standing, waiting to receive early-morning guests. Miraflores was one of the most exclusive parts of Lima, stretching out contentedly in the morning sun. The streets were quiet and ran between well-manicured lawns deco-rated with palm trees and fountains. There was an expensive-looking arcade boasting the sort of shops and restaurants that wouldn't have been out of place in London. The whole suburb was perched on the end of a miniature cliff. Far below, the sea formed a giant crescent, stretching into the distance with the rest of the city barely visible, a mile away.
    Hotel Europa. Matt felt a surge of relief as he saw the name written in large white letters above the entrance lobby. And there was something else. He hadn't noticed them at first, but there were two police cars parked outside. He had no doubt at all that they were there because of him. Fabian would have been waiting for him and Richard to arrive. When they hadn't, he must have raised the alarm.
    Matt started forward but Pedro reached out and grabbed hold of him.
    "Yeah. All right." Matt took out the ten-pound note and offered it to the other boy. "Here you are. Gracias."
    "No!" Pedro was looking scared. He pointed at the two cars and Horowitz, Anthony - [Gatekeepers 02] - Evil Star uttered the single word that was almost the same in so many different languages. "Policia!"
    "It's okay, Pedro. I want to see them. It's not a problem."
    But Pedro was worried. He shook his head and seemed unwilling to let Matt go.
    Matt broke free. "I'll see you around," he said, knowing that he never actually would.
    He walked up the drive and into the hotel. The door-man glanced briefly in his direction and then decided to let him in. He was a child and he was scruffy — but he was a European and that was all that mattered. Somewhere inside him, Matt knew that Pedro wouldn't have been allowed anywhere near the place.
    The front doors opened into a large reception area with leather sofas, antique tables, oversize potted plants, and mirrors. Matt had hardly ever been inside a luxury hotel before — and never on his own. He felt uncomfort-able walking into this enormous space. The Hotel Europa was a place for rich tourists and business travelers, and he was neither. There were two smartly dressed women stand-ing behind the slab of marble that served as a reception desk. They watched him with faces of frozen politeness as he walked over to them.
    "I need your help," he