Free Ratio: A Leopold Blake Thriller (A Private Investigator Series of Crime and Suspense Thrillers) by Nick Stephenson, Kay Hadashi

through the weekend?” he asked her.
    “Should have enough for bed changes in each room, each day. The same with towels and bathroom supplies.”
    “You enjoy working here?” he asked, putting everything back. 
    Mariel shrugged. “It pays the bills. I like it okay.”
    “They treat you well?”
    “The pay is good. I get dental.”
    The four suites came under scrutiny next. Jerome rummaged through drawers and closets, bathroom toiletries, finding nothing suspicious. He performed a few test touch strips to check for stray toxic or combustible chemicals. With a flashlight, he scrutinized cubbies and ventilation grates, finding nothing out of place.
    “I made sure these rooms were swept this morning,” Mariel said. “Everything is ready.”
    “We double-check everything,” said Jerome. “Gustafson said he’d had someone here inspecting the ducts. Show me.” 
    The housekeeper led them out into the corridor, stopping beneath a hatchway in the ceiling. She pointed up. “There’s a crawl space up here. Hooks up to the floors ventilation system.”
    Jerome fetched a monitoring device with a flexible probe from the room, stopping by the storage closet for a stepladder. Carefully, he set the ladder underneath the hatch and pulled it open, extending the probe through into the ducts above. Satisfied, he logged the readings in a pocketbook for future reference, and climbed to the top rung. His head disappeared into the crawl space for a few moments, before he climbed back down to the carpet. 
    “Readings came back negative,” he said. “Visual checks out. All the rooms are hooked up to this duct, so it looks like we’re good to go.” He turned to Leopold. “You check the maintenance records?” 
    Leopold nodded. “Well, one piece of good news: all records and inspections are up to date. Looks like they had a team in this morning, checking the basement systems.”
    “Doing what, exactly?” 
    “Wiring and firmware checks. Warranty, apparently.” He leafed through the manila folder. “A piece of bad news, though. Right now that plant operations manager is filling in for someone else. I got the impression he’s qualified to do basic building maintenance, but not to be in charge of a five-star enterprise.”
    “All the more reason for us to check everything as thoroughly as we can in the hotel,” Jerome said, tucking his notebook into his suit jacket pocket. “Secret Service?” 
    “Nothing in the records, as you’d expect,” said Leopold. “But the convention center is state-owned. With the hotel just next door, you can be sure they’ve been sticking their noses in.”
    “We’ll need to check in with whoever’s running the event,” said Jerome, turning to Mariel. “Can you give us some names?”
    She nodded.
    “Good. I think it’s time we paid the Secret Service a little visit.”

Chapter 13

     
     
    A THIN VEIL of misty rain swept over the city as Jonny Yamada hurried inside the doors of Shibuya , a Japanese restaurant just off Belltown, and shook the water from his hair. A perky waitress found him a table, took his order, and brought him a cold bottle of Asahibeer. 
    The restaurant was full. The quiet murmurs of lunch time conversations filled the air, mingling with the steamy hisses from the kitchen grills and the quiet clink of tableware, the dull, tuneless melody of some obscure Asian pop band coming through the stereo system.
    Lunch arrived after a few minutes, Osaka-style Okonomiyaki , a savory pancake stuffed with grated nagaimo yams, dashi fish stock, eggs, shredded cabbage, and thinly sliced pork belly. The waitress set the dish down, along with a second beer, and cleared the empty bottle away. Jonny ate quickly. The sticky, salty food helped him drain the second Asahibefore finishing his plate. He ordered another. 
     Checking his watch, he wolfed down the last of his lunch. He had arrived early, allowing him to keep an eye on the door, as well as fill his stomach, while he