Diamonds Aren't Forever by Betty Sullivan La Pierre Page A

would be at work for a few more hours, Hawkman headed for the old hotel. Now that he knew Jamey's arrival day, he should be able to verify if Hopkins had hacked into the title company records by checking the man's computer.
    At this late hour, he hoped the caretaker of the hotel had closed up and gone to bed. He sure didn't want to bump into him again. Parking across the street, he made his way toward the dark front entry. As his boot landed on the first concrete step, a gruff voice came out of the dark.
    "Gotta a dollar you could spare?"
    Hawkman stopped in his tracks. He focused his gaze on a figure sitting on the landing, with legs dangling over the side. The burning end of a cigarette held in the mouth silhouetted a man's scraggy face.
    Ignoring the question, Hawkman brushed past the vagrant and went inside. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found the lobby doors closed. Heading up to the second floor, he didn't waste any time in using his pick to open room number twenty-three. Then he quickly rescued the feather off the top of the door before it had time to float to the floor. He pulled the laptop computer from under the mattress and set it atop the bed. It took a minute or two to boot up. Several files cluttered the desktop, but the one that drew his attention had the name of ‘title'. When the folder opened, he found an icon inside named ‘mail', and clicked on it. A message from the title company to Jamey Gray or Jamey Schyler appeared. So Hopkins had succeeded in penetrating their files.
    He then went online and found Hopkins had a message. Should he risk reading it? Recognizing the server, he knew he could ‘save as new’ and Carl would never know he'd opened it. But just as he put the pointer over the icon, squabbling voices penetrated the hallway. He closed the lid and stood beside the door. His hand automatically went to his shoulder holster where he released the cover and rested his hand on the gun grip.
    Two men were loudly arguing right outside Hopkins’ room. They'd soon have the whole place awake if they didn't cool it. Then down the way someone yelled, “Shut up!"
    It seemed to work as the two lowered their dispute and the sound trailed off down the hallway. Then a couple of doors slammed. Hawkman hurried back to the computer and opened the e-mail which came from Jamey. It stated she'd be at the meeting at two o'clock on Tuesday afternoon. No mention of her arrival or departure. Hawkman toyed with the idea of permanently deleting the e-mail but knew that Hopkins had the talent to find wherever the computer might hide deleted mail. And then he'd know someone had messed with his machine. Also the message didn't give any new information. So, he clicked on ‘save as new'.
    He found nothing else of interest, turned off the computer and slid it back into its hiding place. He inspected the dresser drawer again and found the gun still wrapped in underwear.
    The room appeared pretty much the same as before, so he grabbed the feather off the dresser, replaced it on top of the door and slipped out. He'd no more stepped down the first few steps than he recognized Hopkins backing in the front entry and shouting at the vagrant on the landing.
    "Why don't you get the hell out of here. No one has any money around this place. Go to some fancy hotel, you stupid old man."
    Thank God for that tramp, Hawkman thought, as he quickly turned and hightailed it up the stairs to the third floor. He stood in the shadows out of sight until he heard Hopkins’ door close. Quietly, he eased back down the stairwell keeping an eye on room twenty-three, then hurried down the next flight, and dashed out the door. He noticed the old derelict had disappeared off the porch.
* * * *
    Carl ran his fingers over the top of the door and rescued the feather from its hiding place. He then stepped inside and dropped the piece of fluff into a cup sitting on the small table in the corner. Immediately, he reached under the mattress and pulled out