Keeping with the era of the furnishings, the walls were a deep crimson, but age had brought them almost to the hue of dried blood, and tippled with forest green for a faux effect, even if Joanna added spotlights to the room, she doubted it would have brightened one watt. Joanna rubbed the back of her neck, letting out a sigh as she turned her attention to the fabrics of the room. The brocade of the curtains was thick and weighty, the garnet scroll design atop a background of hunter green, most likely opulent in its day, was now depressing and tenebrous. Given the darkness of its surroundings, Joanna was sure the chocolate brown duvet was chosen for its shade and nothing more because the faint paisley design in the fabric matched absolutely nothing in the room.

Taking a deep breath, Joanna continued her tour, and opening the first set of doors, she found herself standing in the wardrobe. L-shaped and sizable, a lone wooden rod ran down one wall and hung from its strength were numerous suits, shirts, and a few garment bags. Lined up underneath on the floor were a selection of wingtips, brogues, loafers, and ankle boots, and except for three pairs that were gray, the rest were all in tones of black. Grimacing at the drab beige walls and the three out-of-place white globe ceiling fixtures running down the center of the space, Joanna flicked off the lights and headed to what she assumed was the bathroom.

Joanna held her breath as she opened the door, and when she turned on the light, she let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously!” she shouted. “You’re a bloody billionaire for Christ’s sake!”

The only thing going for the space was its size. Over ten feet in width and probably twenty feet deep, if it wasn’t for the plumbing fixtures in view, the room could have easily held an entire bedroom set. The window across the far back wall allowed some natural light to stream in, but Joanna found herself wishing it wasn’t there. Halfway up the walls, and completely covering the floor, were tiles of white and black, and while the fixtures about the room were of this century, the claw-foot tub and twin porcelain pedestal sinks did their best to turn back time. Guessing that the door at the far end of the room held the loo, Joanna didn’t need to look any further. Turning out the lights, she headed back to her room. She needed to call Samson...and call him now.

***

As soon as Joanna came from the parlor, her face lit up, and holding out her hand before she reached the door, she said, “Samson, I can’t thank you enough for coming over on such short notice.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, Mrs. Kane,” Samson said, shaking Joanna’s hand.