'What sort of racket is it?' I asked, expecting creaky bedsprings and shouts of 'Yes! Yes!' as per.
'Well, it's rather a worry. It sounds as if there is some kind of assault taking place.'
'Assault?' Perhaps they liked it rough.
'Yes, it sounds rather as if a woman is being beaten in there.'
'Oh.' I dithered for a few seconds. Dr Lassiter did not seem the violent type, but then, that is not necessarily relevant. He was probably engaging in some kind of consensual role-play with his friend. All the same . . .
'Come up and listen for yourself,' invited the elderly gentleman. 'You can hear it all quite plainly through the connecting door.'
'All right,' I said, retrieving my set of skeleton keys from beneath the desk. 'Though you realise I will not be able to disturb them unless there is a crime taking place. If they are just . . . noisy people . . . I will have to leave them to it. Within reason. You will find a set of earplugs in the top drawer of the bedside table.'
Entering the lift, he told me, 'I can't abide earplugs. I can't sleep with them in at all.'
I shrugged and we remained silent until reaching the obscure back corridor where his room was situated. A low cry travelled along the corridor towards us, eerily disembodied. It sounded like a woman's voice.
'Is that her?' I whispered.
'Yes. Come in.' He ushered me into the room and we made for the interconnecting door, where we crouched down with toothglasses at our ears.
At first all was silent. Then there was the rumble of a man's voice, his words indistinguishable. A short reply from the woman, something like 'Yes', maybe. More silence. Then I staggered back at a sudden cracking sound and a shuddering 'ooh' from the woman.
'What was that?' I whispered to my companion.
'I don't know. It sounds like he's hitting her, don't you think?'
I listened again. It sounded like a cowboy cracking his whip in a Western film, though perhaps a bit less sharp. The cries of the woman increased in volume until it became obvious that she was saying 'No, please, no.'
I stood up, staring at the elderly guest in consternation.
'Oh my God, it does sound as if she wants him to stop whatever he's doing. Damn! What the hell can I do?'
'Can't you go in there on some pretext?'
'I'm afraid to. Perhaps I should get the manager?' But if it should turn out to be innocent fun . . . I didn't want to risk incurring Chase's wrath. At least, not in this context. Maybe in the bedroom . . . 'OK.' I strengthened my resolve. I would sort this out as quickly and simply as possible.
I marched round to the room next door and rapped at the door. There was a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the handle but, for once, I ignored it.
The whipcracking and crying stopped dead.
'Who is there?'
'Reception. Could I have a quick word, please?'
'Don't you see the sign on the door?' Lassiter's tone was autocratic, but there was a touch of something nervous behind it.
'Yes, but it's important. Please can I speak to you?'
'I specifically asked for no interruptions. Leave us alone, please, or I shall have to call the manager to complain.'
Fuck! Now what? I made a pained face at my elderly whistleblower, who shook his head. 'What if he is killing her?' he whispered.
He was right. It was a risk I was not prepared to take. I put my bunch of skeleton keys up to my lips for an indecisive moment, then I opened the door. I was confronted by a scream and a pair of rather red thighs leaping away from me out of eyeshot, while Dr Lassiter, wearing a long black cloak and mortarboard, spun round furiously, throwing a leather strappy thing on to the bed in the process.
My eyes popped. Oh no! This was a miscalculation after all! Or was it?
'I'm so sorry,' I squawked, feeling as if there was a hand around my throat. 'But the lady sounded as if . . . she was suffering. I just wanted to make sure she was all right.'