“Anybody here object to a little, ah, informal entry? Just to have a look around?”

“You think we do that sort of thing in New Jersey?”

“Sure, I do.”

“Go ahead, if it makes you happy,” the Jersey cop said.

The detective produced a set of lock picks, and two minutes later they were inside.

“Hey, nice place,” the Jersey cop said.

“Better than I had thought,” the NYPD cop replied.

They had a look around. The furniture was handsome, the prints on the wall were nice, and the clothes were neatly put away in the closet/dressing room.

“What have we here?” the Jersey cop asked, pointing into the closet.

“I’d say that’s a thousand-dollar safe,” the NYPD cop replied.

“I guess you want to look in there, too, huh?”

“I’d love to know what’s in there, but I’m no yegg. Anybody here can open that safe without dynamite?”

All heads were shaken.

He looked through all the clothes. “There’s nothing in this place that even identifies the occupant,” the NYPD cop said. “We may as well get the fuck out of here.”

“Great minds think alike,” the Jersey cop said. “You guys let us know when you know what you’re doing, and we’ll come back for another, hopefully more fruitful, visit.”

They locked up and left.

—

Ryan gave his car to the doorman at the Four Seasons, and somebody drove it away and did God-knows-what with it. He couldn’t see a garage. He checked in, got two key cards, and sent his bag up to his suite with a bellman and a fifty-dollar bill.

“Unpack for me, will you?”

“Yes, sir,” the young man said, and trotted away.

Ryan found the bar and settled into a booth. He waved the waiter away. “When my lady gets here.”

At the stroke of six o’clock, Sylvia Mays, if that was her name, strolled into the bar, towing a single bag on wheels, and he rose to meet her. She slid into the booth beside him, and the waiter appeared. “What’s your pleasure?” Ryan asked.

“Knob Creek on the rocks,” she said.

“That and a Macallan Twelve,” Ryan said, “and will you ask a bellman to take the lady’s bag up to my suite? Ryan’s the name, I just checked in.”

Booze was served, and he looked her up and down. “Very nice,” he said, “even nicer than before.”

“You’re looking pretty good yourself,” she said.

They chatted for a bit.

“What time is dinner?” she asked.

“I booked in the restaurant at eight.”

She stroked his thigh. “That gives us an hour and a half, doesn’t it?”

—

They were in the suite and undressed in a flash, and Ryan thought she looked even better naked than clothed. They were pretty quick, then they rested in each other’s arms.

“It’s a very nice suite,” she said. “Thank you.”