Art watched as the receptionist answered a ringing telephone.
Hello? ... There's no problem, is there? ... Oh, well, good. I'll be right out.
And without a word, the man hangs up the phone, straigtens his tie, and steps out from behind the desk. He strolls out the front doors without a glance back. Not a very responsible receptionist.
Art moved quickly. He had to find a closet where they would keep uniforms.
Eventually, he stumbled into a room marked, naturally, Employees Only. Art noticed a neatly pressed suit similar to the one the receptionist wore hanging on the wall.
"Bingo."
Art reached for it when suddenly - thanks to Drakko, likely - the power cut.
No matter.
Art quickly stripped off his own coat and tie, and slipped on the uniform jacket and bow tie. After a moments consideration, he stepped out of his shoes and changed his pants with the uniform. Best to complete the illusion.
Now dressed, he figured he had maybe five minutes until the power came back on. If he was lucky.
Time to sneak back to the desk and find that room key.
At the station, there was a little light pouring in from the front of the hotel, but the electricity wasn't back on.
So he started looking for the keys. They weren't, as he expected, on a wall behind him. So he checked drawers.
Most of them were locked ... but from sheer dumb luck, he found the room keys in an unlocked drawer.
There were envelopes lined up, as if it was a small filing cabinet. Art figured that the mafia guy would be on the top floor, likely in a penthouse suite. And that key would likely be in the back of the drawer.
He checked ... and there it was. Room 1219. Top floor, last envelope.
Art would have to hope that was it.
About then the lights kicked back on.
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