The Doorman

-Please tell me you ate the pavlova. There’s now some discourse on it. I think it’s disgusting and [redacted] is adding fuel to the fire by trying to get the person who bought it to own up. 

October 30th, 5:00pm. You are dating the Olympic swimmer? 

-Yes. I actually met her during my break and-

Occupation? 

-Doorman of- 

Quarter Moon Hotel? 

-No that’s really far away. I work at The Orville. 

That’s a very grand hotel, wouldn’t you think? 

-Yeah it is. Very busy as well. 

Do you like working there? 

-I love it actually. And the people are really interesting so that’s a bonus. 

Have you worked in any other hotels prior? 

-Yeah it- 

And was it The Plaza? 

-Yeah but I also- 

And did you or did you not bring up the package that led Dame Sorsey to her death? 

-This feels more like an interrogation than an interview. 

Please answer the question.

-I believe I did.

Do you care to elaborate? Reminder, I have gotten full permission from the Head to ask these questions and you are obliged to answer.

-Well, this happened two years ago. I was working the afternoon shift and it was surprisingly fairly empty, but this man came up to me holding two parcels in his hand. He told me to deliver one to Sorsey and the other to keep it myself or to deliver it to an unnamed man who was staying in room 105. I asked the man what his name and occupation was and he told me that he didn't have a name and that he was a deliverer.

He did not have a name?

-That's what he told me.

Did you ask him what he meant?

-I'm getting to that. I did and he said that he used to have one, but then he lost it, but he remembered it started with T. So I called him Tom.

And what did this Tom fellow say?

-If you want to hear the story, at least allow me to tell it.

Very well. Continue.

-Tom sounded very confused, as if he did not know anything. But there was something strange about it-I noticed another person-most likely a man-standing on the path across from us. Tom saw him, shoved the parcels in my hand and left, pleading it to be delivered to Sorsey and room 105. So I went upstairs, told the manager that I'm taking my break now and entered the elevator, where I saw the piano player talking to a guest about 105.

The piano player was Agnes Bowlly, right? The famous one?

-Yes. She and the guest were saying that there were actually three people staying in room 105, secretly. And that they had been booked under only one person. So I asked her what was the name of the booking. Agnes told me that it was under a man named Bill Noble, but had been changed to mine that morning. Why me? I always wondered that.

Your name?

-The guest told me about the three people staying in that room. She hadn't seen them, but heard them arguing the night before about a package. The elevator doors open and I rushed to room 105 and knocked too many times. A woman and a man opened it-they looked like siblings and in the background I could see another pair of people, that didn't look related. Someone spoke from the corner and another person came beside the pair from the bathroom.

So that was six people. What did they look like?

-I can't remember. I don't remember the faces of people from that day apart from Tom's and Dame Sorsey's. But, I told them about the package. And the man took the one addressed to Sorsey, instead of the unsigned package. I tried telling them that, but both of them snapped at me and then closed the door. They were whispering when I left-all six of them. I got on the elevator again and went to room 231 to see Sorsey.

They swapped packages?

-Yes, I think they had a feeling that something bad was in the other.

Was it?

-Wait until the end. When I approached the door, Dame Sorsey opened it before I could knock. She looked like she had just woken up from a nightmare; sunken eyes, swollen cheeks, ends of hair stuck out like Medusa. She ushered me in and I dropped the package and then left, right after she asked 'why do you have two rooms?' She knew about the incident and I was so worried that I closed the door and went down the elevator. There I was back near 105, when I heard thuds and glass shattering. The woman who was in the background opened the door and collapsed right at my feet. And the sight of 105-five bodies with twisted limbs and bloodied eyes, green veins, sprawled on the velvet like a morbid painting. The package was in the middle-the spawn of their downfall-torn open, with a small jack-in-the-box popping out. I called out to people and everyone rushed out. I remembered the dame and ran up the stairs, yet the manager was already there-pressing two fingers to her neck. This package did not have a jack, but instead a a small statue of a ballerina holding a gun. After everything, I found out that Bill Noble was a false name and that the parcels did contain a note. It was unintelligible handwriting that reminded me of Tom. The manager allowed me to leave the hotel for a few hours to clear my head, for I believed I had caused all of their deaths. Who were those six people? Why did they use my name of all names? Obviously, nothing made sense. Agnes saw me and we went into a cafe and drank in silence. But she told me that Dame Sorsey had requested her to play a piece privately, in the comfort of her room, the time she died. And the cause of death? Poison and anaphylactic shock-respectively to the murders-I believe they were killed. When I came back, there was someone else sitting behind the manager's desk-she told me she was a replacement, but left as quickly as I saw her. God. I can't forget this. In the night when I was sitting in the lobby, wondering what on earth had happened, Tom came bursting through the doors.

Did he say anything?

-He said, 'you were supposed to be in one of those rooms.'