A click, and the elongated figures of the girls appeared at their full height. The girls walked very shakily, like they were on stilts. The girls knock at the door of one room, and after a minute disappear into the room.

“What do you think is in the bags those lovely ladies are carrying, huh? Do you think they have condoms, whips, and handcuffs? No, they have the purest, freshest cocaine. Probably…” Walter narrowed his eye, as he was looking through the bags of these ladies. “Five grams, no less. I wonder how much money they’ll get out of that old fart today.”

Whatever you say, Walter is a pro: he sits around and chats about all kinds of nonsense, but he notices every little thing.

Walter kept talking, but Roy had stopped listening to him. He sniffled for some reason and fiddled with the buttons. Walter looked over at his colleague. Then he glanced at the screens, and the brief glance was sufficient to reassure him that everything in the hotel was in order.

“I’m sorry, I have to step out for a bit,” Roy got up and headed for the door. Within moments Roy was already on his way up in the elevator, clutching the radio in his palm. He rushed out of the elevator and ran down the hall. Realizing he’d gotten off at the wrong floor, he headed for the fire exit door.

A young man in a security guard’s uniform was sleeping on the steps of the stairwell, leaning his back against the wall. A newspaper lay on the floor near him. The guard opened his eyes, muttering an apology, and started to get up—he’d decided that this was a new boss standing in front of him. But the strange gentleman with a walkie-talkie in his hand didn’t utter a word and raced suddenly down the stairs.


In a long, light dress, throwing one leg over the other, she sat in a spacious and soft leather armchair, as if she was waiting for someone. Her arms freely lay on the wide arm rests and her fingers with brightly colored red nails lightly tapped on the leather.