Killing Rain

on one of the first five floors and adjacent to a stairwell? Figure two stairwells per tower, three rooms either right next to or directly across from each stairwell. Total of sixty doors to check. Fewer if we’re lucky.”
    He grinned. “No, I wouldn’t take that bet.”
    I nodded. “I wouldn’t, either. Let’s go.”
    FIFTEEN
    WE RODE THE SKY TRAIN two exits to Surasak and got off. As we walked the short distance to the hotel, I said, “We don’t know for sure that the room is empty. So when we get the right door, we need to go in fast and hard, surprise anyone who might be in there, overwhelm them. Okay?”
    “Okay. Who goes first?”
    “I’ll go first. You back me up.”
    “Don’t I always?”
    “When you’re not trying to make it with a katoey, yeah.”
    “Hey, man . . .”
    “Hang on a minute, there’s a drugstore. You speak a little Thai, right?”
    “Yeah, some.”
    “We need a few supplies to clean the knives. And our hands, too. Bleach and alcohol.”
    “I’ll be right back.”
    “Get a toothbrush, too. And some rubber gloves. Four pairs.”
    “Four pairs of rubber gloves? Shit, man, they’re going to think I’m some kind of deviant.”
    “Dox, if the shoe fits . . .”
    “Yeah, yeah. I’m going.”
    Dox went into the drugstore and came out a few minutes later carrying a plastic grocery bag. When we were in sight of the hotel, I said, “All right. Let me go ahead. You wait one minute and follow me in. It’s better if the two of us aren’t seen together. Meet me on the first floor—not the lobby, the one above it—by the elevators.”
    “Which tower?”
    “What are they called?”
    “I don’t remember.”
    I thought for a moment. “Whichever one is closest to the lobby entrance where we’re going in. Worst case, you go to the wrong one, you don’t see me, you adjust.”
    “All right, sounds like a plan.”
    I went in and headed straight for the elevators, just another hotel guest tired from an evening of carousing in nearby Patpong and heading to his room to sleep it off. There was a security guy in front of the elevator bank, but he did nothing more than return my nod of greeting and let me pass. I noted a camera in front of the elevators, and hoped there wouldn’t be more of them.
    I took the elevator to the seventh floor. I got out and glanced around. No cameras. Excellent. If this had been The Four Seasons or The Oriental or one of the other high-end hotels in town, we would have had a problem. With cameras in the corridors, you can only try two or three doors before security understands what’s happening and comes running. But the Holiday Inn didn’t have quite that level of service.
    I took the stairs down to the first floor and waited. Dox showed up a minute later, emerging directly from the elevator. It would have been smarter if he’d gone to a different floor and walked down as I had, just in case anyone on the lobby level was watching where the elevator was going, but okay, not such a big deal. Certainly not worth mentioning right now.
    We started by the stairwell nearest the elevators and worked our way up. Each floor took less than a minute. No luck going up. On five, we walked over to the second stairwell and started down again. On the third floor we found what we were looking for: to the right of the stairwell, room 316. I slid the card in and the reader lit up in green. I turned the handle, shoved the door open, and burst inside.
    It was a simple room, not a suite. The lights were on in the main room, straight ahead; the bathroom, to the right, was dark. If anyone was in here, it was unlikely he’d be sitting in a dark bathroom, and I checked the main room first. It was empty. The fact that the door opened at all—that the interior dead bolt wasn’t engaged—was encouraging, of course. If someone security conscious had been in the room, he would have engaged the dead bolt. And the fact that there had been no sounds of someone being startled, no reactive movement anywhere, that was good, too. Still, I had to be sure. I checked the bathroom. Empty. I even checked the closet and under the bed, something that, but for his recent chagrin, would doubtless have elicited some comment from Dox. Nothing. We were in.
    We pulled on the gloves and started looking around. Unfortunately, the room was as clean as the van. There was a change of clothes in one of the dresser drawers, an empty suitcase against a wall. Some toiletries in the bathroom. Other than