"Sir?"
"My roommate isn't going to like this."
"Please convey to your roommate our deepest apologies," the room service manager said in an unctuous tone, "but as I said, the duck is unavailable this evening. "
"This is terrible," Remo said.
"From time to time there is a problem with our suppliers. It cannot be foreseen, and there is nothing we can do about this."
"You see, I have a sneaking suspicion my roommate picked this hotel expressly because he liked the duck," Remo said.
The room service manager's voice grew solicitous. "I shall so inform the head chef. I'm certain he will be gratified."
"You see, normally we don't check into a hotel a second time. We kinda like to move around, experience new things. But we were here a few months back and my roommate ordered the duck. Now here we are back at your nice hotel; and now no duck."
"I can assure you it will be on the menu by the end of the week. May I suggest our beef Stroganoff?"
"You can suggest all you want," Remo countered, "but my roommate and I are allergic to beef."
"A pity."
"We eat beef and we go into toxic shock."
"We would not want that. Would you prefer the lamb-kabobs?"
"Lamb's greasy."
"Not our lamb."
"And lamb makes us hurl."
"Hurl?"
"Puke."
"I shall have to remember the word 'hurl,' " the room service manager said dryly. "It has a certain charming . . . force to it."
"My roommate and I," Remo went on, "are on highly restricted diets. We eat fish and duck and rice and not much else."
"In that case, let me suggest the trout Almondine."
"Good suggesting, but my roommate has his heart set on duck."
"As I have explained, the duck is unavailable tonight, but it will be available again later in the week. Possibly by Thursday."
"Don't know if we'll be here that long," Remo said.
The room service manager's voice dropped several degrees Fahrenheit. "May I make a further suggestion? Why don't you ask your rather finicky roommate if, under the circumstances as I have outlined them, the trout Almondine might not be acceptable after all?"
"Hang on."
Remo cupped his hand over the hotel suite phone receiver and called into the next room.
"Hey, Little Father!"
"Trout have bones," came a squeaky, querulous voice.
Remo took his hand off the receiver and said, "He says trout is bony."
"We bone our trout, sir."
The squeaky voice came again. "Ask for the duck." "I did. They say they're out."
"Has every duck in the universe expired?" wondered the squeaky voice.
"Doubt it," said Remo.
"Then I shall have the duck. In orange sauce."
Remo spoke into the receiver. "Says he's really, really set on the duck. And he'd like it in orange sauce."
The last of the oil evaporated from the room service manager's tone.
"Sir, as I have explained-"
"Listen, by chance did you hear about the bellboy?"
"I seldom pay attention to the doings of lower-echelon personnel," the room service manager said bluntly.
"The poor guy ended up in a body cast."
"I believe something was mentioned along those lines. Regrettable."
"He nicked my roommate's trunk carrying it to the elevator," Remo pointed out.
There was a pregnant pause on the line. "This roommate of yours, by chance would he be an elderly gentleman of Asian extraction?"
"Oh, I wouldn't call him 'elderly,' " said Remo, knowing that he would be overheard by the occupant of the next room, who was sensitive about his age. "And I think you shouldn't either. That's worse than nicking a trunk."
"Understood, sir." The tone changed again. This time, it was helpful. "Well, if this is the case, there may be something we can do. Perhaps I could ask the head chef to dig a little deeper into the freezer, as it were. Ah, I trust your roommate would not be offended by frozen duck?"
"Not unless it showed up on his plate that way."
"Splendid. Then duck in orange sauce it will be. I assume you would like the same?"
"Not me. I want the trout Almondine. A side of steamed white rice for both of us, and absolutely pure natural mineral water. Got that?"