Standing in the elevator, Schiller let out a long breath.
Peter sent him a message. He replied with a few brief words, not mentioning the details, only saying that he had already left the nineteenth floor.
But the crisis had actually only just begun, because there were still two other lit buttons in the elevator: the thirteenth floor and the seventh floor. Unless something unexpected happened, the elevator would stop at both floors, and no one knew what might enter the elevator there.
There was no special marking beside the thirteenth floor, but the number thirteen itself was special enough that nothing good could possibly be waiting there. The seventh floor was marked as a restaurant, but in this bizarre hotel, the restaurant was clearly no safe place either.
The safest course now would be for Schiller to press the button for the eighteenth floor, have the elevator stop there, and then find a safe room on the eighteenth floor to stay in.
But that would only be stalling for time, a slow suicide. The situation in the hotel was worsening. No room was absolutely safe, and if he kept dragging things out, the situation would inevitably spiral out of control.
Schiller told Peter to find Jerome.
Peter knocked on the door, and Jerome certainly would not open it. But Schiller knew how to negotiate with that cunning man. Jerome seemed to care greatly about Peter and Schiller being able to communicate in real time, so Schiller had Peter write a few words on a sticky note and slip it through the gap beneath the door.
The note was quickly taken away, but there was still no movement inside the room. It seemed Jerome was considering whether to cooperate with them.
Under ordinary circumstances, cooperation between the two sides would