Hotel Berlin - Chapter 2

Richard had to woke up early the following morning. He had an appointment at half past eight.
He quickly took a shower and dressed up. Finally, he glanced at himself in a mirror and smiled. Like a winner.
He went in the hall but, unexpectedly, he didn't see Danielle. Usually, the cleaning staff were sitting there from sunrise until sunset. It was a hard life. Yet, it was the servants'one. He was born to be a businessman and it wasn't his job to look after the poor and humble.
He returned to Berlin at about 5 p.m. He just loved negotiating, since he had a manipulating brain and could manoeuvre each opponent the way he wanted.

Richard Deschamps didn't see her this time, either.
Now that was strange. However, he thought he ha d heard something like a soft cry coming from the servants'wing of the hotel. He headed towards the source of the sound, opened a wooden door...
-Danielle!
He kneeled next to her. She turned her head to see him. Indeed, she was crying. And he saw tracks of blood on her back.
-Those are made by a whip, Danielle. Tell me what happened.
-They...they did this because I was late at work yesterday. Because I was in your room talking to you.
-Who is that "They"?
-It doesn't matter. If I tell you, I will probably have twice the marks I have now. Let me go, it's not your job. I don't want to involve you.
-But maybe I want to get involved. Let me guess. The Dutch?
She didn't agree nor disagree; but from her eyes, he could see he was right.
"The Dutch" was the nickname of the owner of the hotel, who in fact was German. Richard knew him; he was known for his temperamental behaviour.
He took a handkerchief out of the right pocket of his suit and wiped out her tears.
She held his arm and they raised up in the same time.
-Thank you, Mr. Deschamps...
-I told you to call me Richard.
She sighed, like she'd just got rid of her worst fears.
-Richard...You have done so many things for me. You are so kind, I don't know how to thank you.
He took her head in his hands and looked straight into her beautiful blue eyes. Almost the same shade as his...
Without a word, he kissed her. It would have lasted for hours if the two hadn't heard footsteps coming from the hall towards Danielle's room.

Richard hid inside a wardrobe until he couldn't hear any more footsteps and left the room, not before glancing at Danielle for the last time that day.
*
He was heading towards his room when someone talked to him.
-How sly of you, Richard...
-"The Dutch"! It's been a long time!
The two shook hands.
"The Dutch" was a 50-year old with red hair and blue eyes.He often spoke with German accent.
-Well, Hans, what have you been doing?
-Just been 'round here. I see you're interested in Miss Robertson.
-Danielle?
-Exactly. I don't understand why you would ever need a slave when there are so many rich women around you. Always eccentric, Richard, right?
-Yeah...Do you have any link to her wounds?
-Well, I should say...yes. She's not just a slave, she's my slave. Since she came here. I have the right to punish my slaves.
-So cruel, Richard said, smiling.
-I have grown in cruelty. It's not my fault. It's about that Allies who defeated Germany in '45. You know I had to leave Berlin. And...
-Oh, stop, Hans, please...I know this.
-It's not wise to interrupt me while I talk about my country. You should go to your room now. Good luck with your plans, Deschamps.
-Thank you, Schaefer. He stressed the last word and went to 501.

The night was about to come.