Despite having just taken a shower, I was sweating. "This is a damned farce. A setup. I'm not going to stand for this. Call the police."

Sheila Green looked toward Chris. "Chris, would you mind calling the police for Mr. Ellsworth?"

For the first time I noticed Chris's protruding Adam's apple. "Sure thing, Miss Green. Only thing is Chet hates it when he gets calls at this hour of the morning. Remember the last time we called him before 9:00? Whew wee, he was madder than an old wet hen!"

Sheila Green straightened out her dress. "True, Chris, so true. I had forgotten about that. It is a bit early in the morning to disturb old Chet. Still, he owes me a favor..."

"What the is going on?" I interrupted. "What kind of small town scam are you running here?"

"Lest you forget, Mr. Ellsworth, a murder has been committed and it appears as though you are the only one who could have done it. Do you see your predicament?"

"You don't have a bit of evidence to back up such a preposterous claim as that. Who do you think you're kidding? Do you think I was born yesterday?"

"Well, there are your fingerprints in the dead man's room," said Green.

"That's ridiculous. I wasn't in his room at all. I just met the man and his wife for the first time last night. We barely exchanged words. I don't give a damn what you say. I didn't kill anybody."

The bartender, who had disappeared for a few minutes, suddenly reappeared, holding a plastic bag. "Miss Green, I found this in Mr. Conway's room. Dollars to donuts if we have this puppy checked for fingerprints, our guest in room 111 might be mighty sorry."

Inside the plastic bag was the bowl, previously filled with peanuts that I had handed to Adam Conway last evening. "Okay, what is it you people want with me, huh?"

Sheila Green conferred in silence with her two cohorts. She turned away from them and began, "Mr. Ellsworth, we don't want any trouble here. In fact, we don't want you to get into any trouble. But, we have a serious situation on our hands. We..."

"What do you want? Money? Is that it? Okay, how much?" I didn't believe any of this crap for a second, but I also didn't want to underestimate these three stooges.

"Mr. Ellsworth, please, let me finish. As I was saying, this sort of publicity is not good for The Hide-A-Way. Imagine if a brutal murder of this sort ever got out? Our business would suffer terribly."

"Get to the damned point," I screamed. I needed to make this nightmare go away.

"Well, there is severe damage to your room, you know. And, of course, there is..."

"How much are we talking, you sons of bitches?"

"As I was saying," Sheila Green continued, "there is severe damage to room 111. We'll have to replace the entire ceiling as well as some of the bathroom tiles. Then, there is damage to poor old Mr. Conway's room. The entire bathroom in room 211 will have to be gutted and redone."

"Name it, for Crissake, will you please? How much? $500? $600? What?"

"Well, we are reasonable people, Mr. Ellsworth. Don't you agree, Chris?" Both Chris and the bartender nodded their heads. "We have a regular plumber we use and fortunately he's always quite reasonable, however, I'm afraid he charges slightly more than $600 for such extensive work."

"How much more?"

"How much more?"

"I like round numbers. $1,000 should cover the damages to both rooms. Like I said, we are reasonable people."

"$1,000? You people should rot in hell."

"Whatever," said Sheila Green. "$1,000 will cover the room damages, I'm sure. But, as I mentioned, poor old Mr. Conway was a regular guest at our fine hotel. During the past several months, however, the dearly departed Mr. Conway had run up a pretty substantial bill. I figured he was always good for it, but given these most unfortunate and extraordinary circumstances, someone will have to settle his outstanding invoices."

"What did he owe?" I was a beaten man.

"Of course, we won't charge poor old Mr. Conway for today, even though he still occupies the room. We'll make certain he's out by noon. As I've stated, we are reasonable people and I like round numbers. $1,000 will pay up all of Mr. Conway's previous invoices, including funeral expenses. It isn't cheap to die these days, you know."

"And if I don't pay? What then? I'm calling my attorney."

Sheila Green stared directly at me. "That's entirely up to you, Mr. Ellsworth. We can hold you in our local jail. That's not a problem. I dare say you might not find the accommodations of our little prison as cozy as you found room 111, but the choice is yours. As for calling your attorney, there's a telephone in my office. But, one thing you should know, the judge is Chet's younger brother. I don't even think Mr. Perry Mason would have much of a chance against him. Think it over. A mere $2,000 and all of your troubles are washed away."

"What about the body?" asked Chris.

"I'm sure Chet will be able to handle things in a manner that will satisfy everyone. Remember, he owes me," replied Sheila Green.

Three months after my infamous stay at The Hide-A-Way, I received a package at my condominium. The return address was from someplace in upstate New York. I tore open the box and pulled the contents out one at a time. There was a stick of red-colored lipstick, a blonde wig, falsies, and a number of temporary tattoos, all featuring different types of flowers. I slit open the envelope, opened the letter and read,

Dear Mr. Ellsworth,

We hope you enjoyed your stay at The Hide-A-Way. We make every effort to insure that all of your needs and expectations are not only met, but exceeded as well. We strive to provide superior customer service and we mean it when we say, "Your stay at the Hide-A-Way will be a memorable one." We look forward to serving you again in the future.

Sheila Green and the entire staff of The Hide-A-Way

Below the form letter, in a neat and compact handwriting were the words, "Thank you for being our special 50th guest in room 111. As a token of this special occasion, please accept these special gifts enclosed.

My how time flies. It seems like just yesterday that our very first patron in room 111, a nice gentleman, similar in age to you, also experienced similar water leakage in the ceiling and bathroom. Isn't that a strange coincidence? Lest you worry, Mr. Conway has made a complete and remarkable recovery. It seems as if Chris might have jumped the gun a bit when he declared Adam dead. Oh well, we all make mistakes. Adam is doing very well and has once again taken up residence in room 211 and he continues to enjoy an occasional drink in our lounge. He'd love to see you again."

Signed,

SG aka AC

P.S. I hate being dishonest. Adam and I didn't really meet in a malt shop. I feel so much better now that I got that off my chest.