Naresh self-consciously tried to make himself as tall as possible as he walked up the few steps toward the hotel’s double doors and past a group of hotel guests waiting for transportation. Once inside, Naresh glanced around the expansive lobby, trying to settle on how to proceed. After a moment of deliberation, he decided enlisting the help of the concierge made the most sense. Wanting to avoid making any scene, he waited his turn as several guests kept the two concierges busy making dinner reservations.

“What can I do for you, sir?” one of the formally dressed concierges asked with a charming smile. Naresh was impressed. The man and his partner conveyed an alacrity that suggested they truly enjoyed their work, something Naresh rarely saw in the vast Indian civil service that he had to deal with on a daily basis.

Continuing to be careful not to make a scene, Naresh subtly flashed his identification. “I am interested in one of your hotel guests. There is nothing serious. It’s just a formality. We are only interested in her safety.”

“What can we do to help, inspector?” the concierge asked, lowering his voice. His name was Sumit.

The second concierge, finishing with a guest, leaned forward to be included in the conversation after having seen Naresh’s police identification. His name was Lakshay.

“Are either of you acquainted with a young American woman who is a guest of the hotel named Jennifer Hernandez?”

“Oh, yes!” Lakshay said. “One of our more pleasant, attractive guests, I might add. But she has only come to the desk to request a city map so far: no other services. It was I who assisted her.”

“Seemingly very friendly woman,” Sumit added. “She always has a smile when she passes and makes an effort to make eye contact.”

“Have you seen her today?”

“Yes, I have,” Sumit said. “She left the hotel about forty minutes ago. You had left the desk momentarily,” he said to Lakshay, in response to his partner’s questioning expression.

Naresh sighed. “That’s unfortunate. Was she accompanied or alone?”

“She was alone, although I do not know if she met anyone outside.”

“How was she dressed?”

“Very casual: a brightly colored polo shirt and blue jeans.”

Naresh nodded as he weighed his possibilities.

“Let me run out and ask our doormen. They might remember her.” Sumit came out from behind the concierge’s desk and briskly walked outside.

“He acts like he’s enjoying himself,” Naresh commented, watching the concierge through the glass, noticing the man’s tails flapping in the breeze.

“Always,” Lakshay said. “Has the young lady done something wrong?”

“I’m really not at liberty to say.”

Lakshay nodded, mildly self-conscious about his obvious curiosity.

They watched Sumit and one of the Sikhs have a short, animated conversation. Sumit then returned inside.