I exited the elevator and started down the hallway.
There were only two possibilities-either Mollie was still inside the hotel or she was not. That much was obvious.
I passed room 804.
An axiom came to mind, one I’d taught in my seminars a hundred times over the years: what is obvious is not always what is true.
809.
Either Mollie was alive or dead.
Either she was here or she was not.
812.
What other options were there?
I arrived at the room.
For a moment I thought about the ways the Academy students had come up with on Wednesday for committing the perfect murder: take precautions to avoid leaving physical evidence… contaminate the scene with other people’s DNA… dispose of the body outside, don’t allow the body to be found at all…
Don’t allow the body to be found at all.
I snapped on the latex gloves that I’d brought along.
Pulled out my lock-pick set.
Despite what hotel managers might tell you, keycard locks are some of the easiest ones to pick. Hotels use them because they’re cheap, not because they’re secure. It’s one of the best-kept secrets in the hotel industry.
Most people feel safe in their hotel rooms.
If only they knew.
So, although in my haste to get up here I’d forgotten to get a keycard, it only took me a few seconds to get the door open.
The curtains had been drawn across the windows at the far side of the room, and the muted sunlight that had managed to slip through gave everything a yellowish, pasty glow.
I knew that Doehring and his team had looked for Mollie Fischer in every room of the hotel, that the ERT had processed room 809, that Margaret had sent agents to recheck all the eighth floor rooms the maids had serviced, but as far as I knew, no forensics unit had been in this room.
But the maids had.
Unwittingly vacuuming up the evidence.
Wiping it from the countertops.
Scrubbing it from the sink.
When you’re looking for something in a room that’s already been searched, you need to consider the conditions under which that initial search occurred, and then alter those conditions so that your attention isn’t drawn to the same objects or areas the previous searchers would have focused on.
And since room lights always throw shadows in the same places, they’re one of the main determinative factors to alter.
So now I left the lights off and clicked on my Mini MagLite.
The flashlight beam cut a slim crease through the pale, jaundiced light of the room.
I slipped off my shoes to avoid leaving dirt particles on the carpet. Then I stepped inside, closed the door, and began my search for something that might lead us to Mollie Fischer.