Chapter Eleven:
In an elegant room on the fourth floor of The Wellington Hotel, Nick set his camera bags on the carpet. In the bar fridge he found scotch for himself and vodka for Suzie. He knew she would feel better, even relax a little, once he had gotten a drink into her. She was too young to have much of a tolerance for alcohol and Nick knew he would get a lot of mileage from a couple of ounces. He intended to give her more.
And he was right. Halfway through her second drink, Suzie was sitting on the side of the king-sized bed, looking loose, and swinging a foot.
She watched Nick pull what seemed to be a bundle of hinged rods from a bag. “What is that?”
“I bought a tripod,” Nick said, lengthening the legs and locking them with twist-screws. “I can mount the camera on top and film t
