The Cupcake and the Corpse

Let me tell you how it began….

I had been working at the hotel as a domestic worker since the end of the exams, that would be a good ten weeks by the time of the incident.

The process was very simple, guests would check out by ten in the morning and we would have until two to change and clean all of the rooms. I began work with a middle aged woman called Cindy; I saw her turn over a room in fifteen minutes. That would be a bed strip, vacuum, clean the bathroom, change towels, remake the bed and restock the consumables. We had four floors to attend to, that would be eighty rooms if they all vacated at once. From time to time some of the ‘guests’ would leave us little presents on the floor or in the shower. These took longer to do, especially wine or coffee on the floor. Cindy showed me the quick routine for bringing up the carpet. Sometimes she would set to with the room and finish the rest of the floor before coming back to complete the task. Very rarely I would have to go to the hygiene store and get the deep cleaner. You fill one side up with fresh water and chemicals then drive it over the stain at a funeral pace. I only know of one stain that it wouldn’t lift, that was in room 408 and the stain was blood.

The Corpse and the Cupcake.

Cindy went up to our bunch of floors which were first through to forth, I went down to reception and got the printout. It tells you who has checked out or if there are any specific requirements for a room such as a cot or for it to be made up for a honeymoon or birthday. All doors now have an electronic lock with a swipe card, we have master cards that will unlock every room that has checked out.

I found Cindy on the fourth floor; most of the rooms had been vacated after a wedding over the weekend. An entire two families had been booked into a whole floor, outside the doors lay duvet covers full of sheets and pillowcases ready to take down to the loading bay for the laundry company to wash and return. It was my job to put them all in a trolley and take them down to the bay in the basement. I won’t go into detail but let’s say some of them were pretty messy.

‘Cindy, what about 408?’ my voice echoed in the empty hallway.

‘What does it say on the sheet?’ Oddly 408 wasn’t on there yet, I checked my watch there was still a good fifteen minutes left. Some folks like to hang it out to the very last moment, that’s their prerogative. The door had a ‘Do not disturb.’ swinger in the card slot so I moved on.

The rooms were a standard level of untidy, full bins, empty fridges, water on the floor. It didn’t take much time for us to sort them out and restock them. My watch bleeped twelve so I went back to room 408 and knocked. There was no reply from inside, so I issued the standard ‘Room service’ call with a heavy knock just in case the occupant was stone drunk. Still nothing.

Cindy shook her head and called reception, nodding as she chewed her gum.

‘Mr Anderson and he should have been gone at ten.’ Shaking her head Cindy pulled out her card on it’s retractable cord, gave a hard rap and the door and let herself in calling out loudly. ‘Room service…’

I was right behind her and when she suddenly backed up we almost ended up in a heap on the floor.

‘Out, OUT!!’ the door slammed shut as we stood in the corridor. Cindy had turned pale, her hands trembling. She handed me her phone and told me to Get the management as her body slid down the door to the floor.

In life Anderson had been quite trim for his age. The coroner’s team wheeled him out in a white body bag, taking him straight down to the loading bay. Forensics stripped the room, including all the sheets and mattress, every part of the area was photographed and I was left with a bare room. A bare room covered in white fingerprint powder and tape. It was left to me to clean up, since Cindy had been taken home without a word of what she had witnessed.

I set too with the vacuum, trying to rid the room of all the dust and dirt from the investigation. In all probability it would not be used for a long time; the word would quickly get around that a corpse had taken up residence, even if this was only for a short period of time. As I began to vacuum under the bed something hit the nozzle causing the motor to whine in distress as it desperately tried to clear the blockage. I removed the pipe to find a small hard plastic cupcake, the kind you get in a child’s kitchen toy, wedged into the head…

© 2021 AHattam