Chapter 13 Section 12

This ordinary hotel is situated in an ordinary street, not at all remarkable.Decker nodded to the hotel's night doorman, showed the hotel room key to prove he was here, and escorted McKittrick through the narrow foyer, past the elevator, and onto the carpeted floor. of stairs.McKittrick's son's room was on the third floor.Whenever possible, Decker avoided elevators that could be traps. McKittrick seems to think this precaution is necessary.The tall man, more than seventy years old, held his suitcase tightly and showed no signs of fatigue. They came to room 312, and Decker knocked four times on the door.It was the code to tell McKittrick's son who was coming.Then he opened the door with his own key.The room was dark, he frowned, and flicked on a light switch.When he saw that no one had slept on the bed, his brows furrowed even tighter. "damn it!"

"Where is he?" McKittrick asked. Although Decker knew it was going to be a waste of time, he scoured the bathroom and living room. "Your son has a bad habit of disobeying orders. This is the second time in a day today that he doesn't follow my orders to stay in his own room." "He must have good reason." "If that's the case, there's going to be a change in this room. He didn't take his suitcase, which probably means he's planning to come back." Decker noticed a letter on the nightstand. "Here, this letter is for you."

McKittrick looked a little uneasy. "You told him I was coming?" "Of course. Why? What's the matter?" "Maybe it's not the smartest thing to do." "What's wrong with telling him his father is coming?" McKittrick had opened the letter.He squinted his old eyes, but otherwise showed no reaction to the letter he was reading. Finally, he lowered his hand holding the letter and let out a long breath. "What?" Decker asked. McKittrick didn't answer. "What did you write?" McKittrick still didn't answer. "tell me."

"I'm not sure," McKittrick said hoarsely. "Maybe it was a suicide note." "Suicide? What—" Decker took the letter from him.The letter was handwritten, and seeing the salutation at the beginning of the letter conjured up in Decker's mind the image of an Ivy League student who would never grow up. McKittrick cleared his throat, as if he had trouble speaking. "Brie is my nickname for Brian." Decker read the letter again. "'The responsibility is mine, and the punishment is mine.' What is he talking about?" "I'm worried, he's going to kill himself," McKittrick said.

"Will that stop you from feeling ashamed of him? Do you think that's what he meant by his last words?" Decker shook his head. "Suicide may erase his shame, but it won't erase yours. Your son wasn't talking about suicide, and that was far from exciting." "I don't know what you said—" "He's a man of self-expression. 'I'm not going to make a mistake and walk away. The responsibility is mine and the punishment is mine.' He's not talking about suicide, but about getting even. He's looking for They went."