Rob Johnson - Lifting the Lid by Rob Johnson Read Free Book Online

probably have given him a good tongue-lashing, but instead she settled for: ‘That’s okay. No harm done.’
    She waited for him to recover, not knowing what else to say until she spotted the black and tan mongrel gazing up at her and frenetically wagging its tail.
    ‘That your dog?’
    ‘Er, yes.’
    ‘I didn’t think you were supposed to—’
    ‘No, you’re not. But we’re leaving now anyway.’
    ‘Ah.’
    His breathing seemed to have returned to normal, and he stooped to pick up his bag. ‘Look, I don’t want to be rude, but I’m in quite a hurry and I—’
    ‘Sure.’ Sandra smiled and stepped to one side to let him pass.
    ‘Sorry about…’
    ‘Don’t worry. No broken bones.’
    ‘Come on, Milly,’ he said and nodded a goodbye.
    Sandra reciprocated and watched him scurry down the staircase with his dog and disappear from view into the foyer.
    Nice enough, she thought as she began to climb the second flight of stairs, and not bad looking in a rabbit-in-the-headlights kind of way. The eyes were a bit on the boggly side, and the thick, mousey hair could have done with a trim, not to mention a comb, but other than that, not bad at all. Sexy? Five out of ten maybe, although, to be fair, the grey fleece jacket didn’t do him any favours, and the jeans were much too saggy to tell whether he had a decent arse on him. There was something odd about him though. Something… furtive. Perhaps it was just that he was in a hurry, or possibly it was her private detective mind being a little overactive.
    By the time she reached her room, Sandra had all but forgotten him and was planning what she would need to do in the next few hours. She closed the door behind her and headed straight for the bathroom. Too much coffee always had this effect on her.
    What the f—
    The open-topped cistern and the pieces of broken porcelain on the floor stopped her in her tracks. A moment later, her heart almost stopped as well.
    Oh Christ, no.
    She dropped to her knees and rummaged frantically amongst the shattered remains of the cistern lid.
    No, no, no. This can’t be happening.
    Sandra’s bladder reminded her of her pressing need, and as she sat, she leaned forward and continued to sift through the broken porcelain. But it was no good. The bloody thing just wasn’t there.
    Okay, girl, calm down. It can’t have vanished into thin air. It was here last night when you arrived, exactly where you’d been told it would be, and it was still here an hour ago when you went down to breakfast. So somebody must have taken it. Why though? And more importantly, who?
    All right, think about who had access to the room, who had been in here last… Then she remembered passing a metal laundry cage in the corridor a few minutes earlier. Of course. The cleaners must have accidentally dropped the cistern lid and then spotted the envelope and put it somewhere else.
    She scanned every surface in the bathroom as she got to her feet and rearranged her clothing. Not here.
    She rushed into the bedroom and searched desperately but fruitlessly, all the while trying to suppress the rising panic in her chest.
    The buggers must have nicked it. But why would they? What possible use could it be to them?
    Sandra immediately realised the futility of asking herself these questions when the culprits themselves were probably still just along the corridor.
    She swept out of the room and almost ran along the hallway to where the linen cage was parked outside an open door. Without even thinking of knocking, she marched into the bedroom and saw two women in white housecoats, one of them talking on the telephone and the other sitting on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands.
    ‘Excuse me.’ Sandra’s voice was firm to the point of authoritarian.
    The woman on the phone barely acknowledged her presence and continued her conversation, anxiously fiddling with a loose strand of heavily bleached hair. ‘… That’s right. A bloody dog… ‘
    The girl on the bed