CHAPTER 8The Madison was typical of most midtown hotels, not quite upscale enough to draw the real money but too pricey for the vast majority of tourists. Its front lobby was spacious and bright, a welcome contrast to the gloom on the streets, with a smoking area for businessmen opposite the long, marble check-in desk. When Carlo entered, the leather chairs were deserted, only a scattered paper or two indicating anyone had occupied them at all this afternoon. He wasn’t foolish enough to think he could fill one of the seats without drawing undue attention. His suit might be his Sunday best, pressed to his mother’s high standards, but without a script, he lacked the lingo in case he had to speak.
The brunette clerk smiled at him as he approached the front desk. “Welcome to the Madison. How
