Saturday

     The bellhop looked at the ceiling fan.
     "All right. Here's another five. We better get excellent service for the next five days. What is the scuttlebutt in the kitchen about this dead guy? Was he a guest here? What did he do to deserve being murdered?"
     The bellhop folded the five-dollar bill around a huge wad of money and shoved it deep into his left pocket. "He had a room on the ninth floor. I waited on him three times. I took a single bag to his room when he checked in. He called for a small pot of coffee on the following Saturday morning. The last time I saw him was when I took his bag to the lobby. I left the bag with him as he was checking out. He slipped me a twenty. I thanked him and left to pick up more bags from people checking out."