Page 59 - Three Adventures

The Nazarene Foreskin

“Scoop: it is Manur. They are right behind me. No time, my friend.
But I am certain she will get it. I have seen that devil’s picture before.
Must run. Au revoir!”
The disconnection echoed through Scoop’s mind, events of the
previous afternoon and evening knocked loose by the reverberation.
Violet. The church. The amphora. The bottle of Old Taylor he’d
finished before finding the elevator up to his room was still out of
commission and he’d had to climb up seven flights, the last two on
his knees.
Now he smelled a story fishier than his breath.
Half an hour later Scoop was in the lobby, berating a desk clerk
anticipating the arrival of his dayshift replacement. Not a long-term
guest with wild eyes and hair.
“See here, mon petit fonctionnaire.” exasperated, Scoop used the
strongest French insult in his limited lexicon. “I do not want to know
when the dining room is open for breakfast. I want to know which
other hotels in Beirut are accepting American guests. There can’t be
many.”
“You are not happy with your room? We have no vacancies at this
time, Monsieur Reedle. A large group of Americans has arrived on
the Tour Gastronomique. I do not think many others are in Beirut
these days.”
“So the Yanks have landed! Is Miss Violet Cohn-Diaz registered at
the Belvedere? Quickly, man: what is her room number?”
“No, no, you do not comprehend. She would not be here. Our
hotel is full because all the people normally booked at the Oberoi
Cedars are here. They raised their rates for the Americans, and all the
Norwegians and Hungarians are with us. For some reason they are a
four-star hotel and we are not, and they offer around-the-clock
security.”
Reedle pointed to the battered PBX behind the desk. “Get me the
manager at the Cedars, Hans Messer. Personal friend. I’ll take it in
the bar.”
“But it is not open at this hour. Nor do I think Monsieur Messer
will be at his desk.”
“Oh, never mind. I’ll just take a taxi over there. Probably faster
than the speed of sound in this godforsaken city.”
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