"Miss Marlowe insists that her ring was on the dressing table when she left the suite."
A week after she started
wholesale newports, Tracy was summoned to the housekeeper's office. The assistant manager was also there.
"Did you check Suite eight-twenty-seven today?" the housekeeper asked Tracy. The suite was occupied by Jennifer Marlowe, a Hollywood actress. Part of Tracy's job was to inspect each suite and see that the maids had done their work properly.
She walked out of the office and headed for Conrad Morgan et Cie Jewelers.
"When you were in the bedroom, did you see any jewelry lying around?"
The assistant manager sighed. "We're going to have to call in the police to investigate."
"Yes. I checked every room."
"It had to be someone else," Tracy cried. "Or perhaps Miss Marlowe misplaced it."
She was accompanied to the office by one of the security guards, and she felt as though she were back in prison again. She had read of convicts being hounded because they had prison records, but it had never occurred to her that this kind of thing could happen to her. They had stuck a label on her
good luck (89), and they expected her to live up to it. Or down to it
marlboro cigarette, Tracy thought bitterly.
The assistant manager pounced on it. "You don't think so? You're not sure?"
"Why, yes," she said.
"Wonderful
cartons of newport cigarettes," Tracy said.
The assistant manager spoke up. "At three o'clock Miss Marlowe returned and discovered that a valuable diamond ring was missing."
"I wasn't looking for jewelry," Tracy said. "I was checking the beds and towels."
"Why... no. I don't think so."
"With your record---" the assistant manager said.
"No one else has access to that room. The maids have been with us for many years."
"What time?"
"I'll have to ask you to please wait in the security office until the police get here."
Tracy felt her face flush. "Yes, sir."
Tracy could feel her body grow tense.
"Did you go into the bedroom, Tracy?"
"At two o'clock. Is something wrong?"
"I didn't take it."
And there it was, out in the open. With your record...
Thirty minutes later the assistant manager walked into the office, smiling. "Well!" he said. "Miss Marlowe found her ring. She had misplaced it, after all. It was just a little mistake."
"I don't know anything about it."