The Palace Hotel
written by: Long Hammer
“Bailey! Armstrong! Get your asses out there and go take a look! And while you’re at it, try not to get your asses shot off in the process,” grunted Chief of Detectives Oswald.
“On it Chief,” replied Bailey, raising an eyebrow at his partner Sally Armstrong.
Exiting the squad room and moving toward their waiting patrol car Sally asked, “What with Oswald and all the ass references?”
Detective Sergeant Steve Baily looked at his partner and shrugged, “Maybe he doesn’t get enough at home.”
In the parking lot, Sally put out her hand demanding the keys to the squad car. Steve said, “In your dreams, Armstrong. Get in and let’s roll.” Now with the traditional conclusion of their ritual concerning the car keys in place, Sally slid into the passenger seat and Steve fired up the big block eight. Driving a bit too fast out of the Sheriff’s North Station the pair of detectives headed for Highway 2 and their ultimate destination, the Palace Hotel.
“So, what’s the deal with the Palace Hotel, Sarg?” inquired Armstrong.
“What am I, your private Google search engine?”
“I figured you’ve been patrolling the East Precinct since dinosaurs roamed the planet, so you’d know, that’s all,” said Sally, with a mischievous grin.
“Watch your mouth rookie!” said Baily, returning a barb.
“What do you mean rookie, I’ve been on patrol for almost five years and a detective for over a year!”
“You’ll always be a rookie to me, Armstrong,” said the Sarg, smiling at his partner.
“OK, OK, I give up. So, what’s the deal with the Palace?”
“Well, I got a disturbance call out there many years ago asking that we roust out some transients that had broken in and were trashing the place, but since then it’s been off the department’s radar. I think that’s because the security people at the Water Department keep a close eye on the place and don’t let anybody hang around for long.”
He continued, “The story I’ve heard, goes back to the 1920’s. The hotel was the brainchild of the wife of a fabulously wealthy Timber Baron. She conceived of a place where she and her socialite friends could enjoy nature, in what she described as, ‘rural elegance.’ She convinced her husband to build a huge, log cabin-style, two-story hotel next to Spada Lake in the North Cascades. While the exterior was somewhat rustic, the interior was the height of roaring twenties elegance. There was a ballroom and a huge commercial kitchen. Imposing rock fireplaces were built into the walls in many locations, kept ablaze by an army of hotel staff. Visitors could read in the large well-stocked library, take advantage of the watercolor classes taught by local artists, play tennis, or simply, commune with nature. All of the well-appointed guest rooms, looked out on the lake and beyond to the Enchantment Range. She even talked her husband into building a rail line from King Street Station in Seattle, directly to her hotel deep in the mountains.
“Man, that Timber Baron must have been made of money if he could afford to build his wife a rail line!” interrupted Sally.
“Yeah well, unfortunately for the Timber Baron’s wife, her socialite friends had little interest in communing with nature and the venture lost piles of money from the beginning. After five years of steady losses, the Timber Baron had had enough. In an attempt to recoup some of his money, he sold the lake to the City of Seattle as an addition to their water reservoir system. The sale meant that hotel guests were not allowed to boat, swim, or even fish. The lake was now strictly off-limits.
The Great Depression came along and the baron sold the hotel for pennies on the dollar to a young entrepreneur who was convinced he could make a go of it. After six years, he called it quits. This was the beginning of a whole series of optimistic beginnings and sad endings for the Palace Hotel. The last hotelier with stars in his eyes crashed and burned in the 1970’s. The building has sat empty and forgotten, but in 2026 a somewhat mysterious group came into possession of the property,” said the Sarg, concluding his account.
“See, you really are my private Google search engine!”
“Shut up, rookie!” laughed Bailey.
Finding the road leading to the hotel was something of a challenge for the pair, as their GPS was confused about the location. Eventually, they found the right road and were surprised that it was in very good repair. It was nicely graded with a fresh coating of gravel. Bailey thought maybe it was the Water Department keeping it in such good shape.
Their GPS told them that their destination was 8.2 miles up ahead. Driving through the tunnel of giant fir trees, Sally said, “This place is really in the sticks, whoever these people are, they really like their privacy.”
Steve then said, “I don’t know why Oswald’s got a hard-on for these people. Haven’t heard about any complaints about firearms or trespass at the water reservoir or any other breaches of the peace. All I’ve heard is that there has been a lot of construction activities. That a bunch of people are living up there now and that a bus leaves the place full of people every morning and then returns every night.”
The speedometer in the patrol car said that they had traveled 7.2 miles toward their destination and Steve began looking for a place to pull off the road and hide the car. Finding an old logging trail, he maneuvered the SUV into a small clearing out of sight of the road.
The detectives then dismounted and walked to the back of the vehicle and popped the rear cargo door. Steve pulled out the mini aerial drone and control console. Sally unloaded their bulletproof vests and tactical helmets. They then both checked the status of their Glock semi-automatics to make sure there was a round chambered and ready to go.
Steve picked up the mini drone and they set off through the woods toward the hotel. Concealed by the heavy timber, the pair quietly approached the large lawn in front of the hotel. The Sarg selected the whisper mode on the drone and sent it aloft. Sally opened her laptop and the picture from the drone appeared on the screen.
Piloting the drone to a position 300 feet above the hotel they observed three people outside. One was mowing the grass near the front entrance, one was working in the large fenced vegetable garden at the rear of the hotel and the third was carrying building materials, that were stacked in the parking lot, into the building.
Moving the drone around the parameters of the property, they looked for any armed guards or gun emplacements. Steve turned on all the drone’s bells and whistles, like the infrared-red scan looking for evidence of hostile intent.
“The place looks clean, three perps outside, all look OK. Don’t see anything hinkey,” reported Sally.
Since the mass killing of police officers which began in mid-2025, it was now standard procedure for law enforcement to remotely surveil any unknown site. Gone were the days when cops would just walk up to a stranger’s door and knock. Police had been the victims of too many ambushes, to not know what was ahead.
Steve retrieved the drone and the pair walked back to their SUV. Backing slowly out onto the road, they then proceeded to the parking lot at the side of the hotel. After parking their cruiser, they returned their tactical helmets to the rear compartment, but kept their sidearms and bulletproof vests in place.
The man they had been seen moving building materials came out of the hotel, apparently ready for another load. Seeing the deputies, he approached and pleasantly asked if he could be of assistance. Steve replied, “We’re just here having a look around, is there someone we can talk to about this operation?”
“Well, I guess Sara’s the one you’ll be wanting to talk to, she’s the Head Cook and is in charge when everyone else is gone,” said the man, again very pleasantly. Sally noted that the man was remarkably clean and well-dressed for someone who appeared to be a common workman. He was smooth-shaven, had no tattoos or body piercings and his clothes were in good repair and conservative. Absent was the normal “wife beater” T-shirt typical of the type.
“Follow me and I’ll take you to Sara,” instructed the man.
The detectives fell in line with the man and he took them to a side door. Walking down a long well-lit hallway, they eventually emerged in a large kitchen. Two women were at work, one was chopping vegetables on a cutting board and the other was stirring a big pot on a gigantic gas stove. “Sara, we got some visitors,” said the man in a quiet voice as they entered the kitchen.
The middle-aged woman at the stove turned and smiled at the two cops. “Oh my, visitors, how nice. You’re most welcome.”
Steve was wondering now if everyone in this joint was polite and well-mannered. “Our Chief sent us out to have a look around your operation, as a courtesy call. The Department likes newcomers to the community to know that the Sheriff and his Deputies are available if you need assistance.”
“Well, that’s wonderful, can I get something to drink or perhaps something to eat?” cooed the cook.
“No ma’am, we’re fine. Can you tell me how many people are living here now?” asked Sally.
“Now let me see, there’s four of us home bodies and there are sixteen students, so that would be twenty. But then Dr. Hanson has a room and he sometimes stays and then there’s the other experts, but they don’t usually stay overnight. So, I think the right answer is twenty or maybe twenty-one.”
Steve then asked, “Who’s the boss of this outfit?”
“Well, we really don’t have bosses, but I think Dr. Hanson would be the closest thing to a boss,” replied the lady, seemingly amused by the question.
Pressing the questioning, Steve then asked, “Would it be possible for us to talk with this Dr. Hanson?”
“Oh, I’m sure he would be delighted to talk with you. He’s scheduled to be here tonight for the round table. If you can join us for dinner tonight, you can talk with the doctor afterward and then attend the round table, if you like. I’ve prepared a baked ham with pineapple and cloves, sweet potatoes, and apple tart for dessert. We’d love it if you’d stay!”
“We’ll need to call into the station house and let them know, but I think we’d like to join you,” replied Steve, as Sally nodded in agreement.
Waiting for dinnertime, the detectives wandered around the compound and visited with the gardener and the man mowing the lawn. Both were like the man with the building materials: polite, well-mannered, and neatly dressed. Each man seemed to go happily about his work, one man even sang to himself as he weeded the vegetable patch.
About six o’clock, a dark blue tour bus with chrome trim pulled into the parking lot, and a number of people, of all ages, sexes, and races disembarked. As a group they also seemed happy, even lighthearted. Seeing the two deputies, they all smiled, some waved and others chirped a greeting. Given the age of some, it surprised the deputies how quickly they all made their way into the hotel and then disappeared upstairs.
Sara came out of the kitchen and informed the officers that the students would be back downstairs for dinner, but would be showering and changing their clothes. Sally thought, “I get the shower part, but they all looked great, why did they need to change their clothes?”
At about six-fifteen, the detectives watched a sedan pull into the parking lot and an older well-dressed man in a suit and tie walked up to the front door and into the lobby. Sara was there to greet him, took his cashmere overcoat, and hung it up in a nearby closet. She then said, “Dr. Hanson, two Detectives from the local Sheriff’s Department have come calling and would like to speak with you. I’ve invited them to dinner and to the round table. I told them that you would speak with them about our operation after dinner, is that alright?”
“Yes, my dear, that will be just fine. Do you think the detectives would like a glass of wine or beer before dinner?”
Sara escorted Steve and Sally into the wood-paneled library and got Sally a glass of white wine and Steve a Red Hook ESB. The doctor joined them and had a glass of red wine, commenting with a grin, that he only drank red wine to protect his heart. The three engaged in small talk until Sara rang a dinner bell and all of the students trouped downstairs and sat at the huge dinner table. Sara told the officers that the giant oak table was one of the furniture pieces that had been a part of the original hotel.
Dinner was a very pleasant affair. All of the participants seemed to have lovely table manners and the talk around the table was quiet and genteel. Food was passed with a smile and while some drank wine or beer with their dinner, no one overindulged. Sally was dumbfounded, she thought people only ate like this in British movies on PBS. She decided she definitely could live with this.
After dinner, the cops and the doctor adjourned to the library and the students went to the game room or to their individual rooms until it was time for the round table.
Sally opened the discussion, “Doctor, I must say, you have a most remarkable operation here. If I had to use only one word to describe the place, I would say civilized.”
“Well, Detective Armstrong, you are most perceptive. The goal of this place is to be an island of civility. Good manners, which is just a way of showing respect for others, cleanliness and a nice appearance, which is just a way of showing respect for yourself and a calm demeanor, which is a gift to a frantic world, are the things we strive to inculcate in our students.”
“It seems you have achieved your goal; I can’t remember dinner companions I’ve enjoyed more. Your students are charming and the people called the ‘home bodies’ couldn’t be more helpful and gracious,” said Sally, somewhat awestruck by the doctor.
“Thank you very much for your kind words and encouragement, but I must now tell you a startling story. It is imperative that for a short while, you do not reveal this story to your police colleagues or to people in the news media.”
Sally and Steve looked at one another and their guards immediately went up.
Noticing the change, the doctor said, “Please, don’t be alarmed. Nothing I am about to tell you violates any of our laws or is in any way morally repugnant. The Palace Hotel is a pilot program of the Federal Government. This facility, along with 10 others, located at various places in the country, are beta testing a new approach to criminal incarceration and treatment. As you may know, there have been breathtaking advances in the fields of DNA research and pharmacology in recent years.”
Steve interrupted saying, “Are you saying this place is some kind of Frankenstein government research facility? My boss and the County Commissioners are going to crap their collective pants when they find out!”
“Sargent Bailey, I can assure you that your Commissioners, the State Governor, and your Federal Representatives, are all aware and supportive of this effort. The beta testing of the program is now complete and an announcement to the general public will be made shortly. We are about to enter a new era in American culture and civilization. Please let me explain.”
“Ho boy, I wasn’t expecting this,” muttered Sally to herself.
“This evening you had dinner with three murderers, one of which killed over a dozen people, rapists, drug lords, prostitutes, major white-collar criminals, and other assorted members of the criminal class. I would be very surprised if either one of you, as professional police officers, identified anyone at dinner as a lawbreaker.”
Sally thought, “Well, that’s true enough.”
The doctor continued, “The reason you didn’t sense that they were criminals is: they are no longer lawbreakers. All of their criminal tendencies have been erased and self-respect, good citizenship, and civil behavior have been put in their place. How is this possible, I’m sure you’re asking yourself. Science is the short answer. The breathtaking advances I mentioned earlier are the key. We now know enough about gene splicing to surgically remove the genes that promote criminal and anti-social behavior. We have also developed drugs which mandate positive social interaction and cooperative behavior.”
Warming to the topic, the doctor then said, “However, eradicating the lawless element in society is only the first step. A series of new laws are about to be put into place at the federal, state, and local levels, which will transform our nation. Many longed-for reforms: such as true campaign finance reform, bring military/ industrial/security state under strict control, and outlawing the business practices that support the ‘landfill economy’ will be enacted. Our leaders have finally come to terms with the limitations imposed by living on a finite planet and will ensure that we begin to live within our means.”
“Shit, this sounds like some kind of a revolution or hostile takeover or something!” moaned Steve.
“Sargent Bailey, please let’s adjourn to the ballroom and attend the round table. I think many of your questions and fears will be addressed in the meeting,” soothed the doctor.
The three walked out of the library and through the dining room into the former ballroom. At the far end of the room, a circle of folding chairs had been set up. All of the students and the home bodies had taken their seats and were waiting. Bailey and Armstrong took seats on either side of the doctor.
“Friends, tonight we have with us, two representatives from the law enforcement community. The conduct of the round table, however, will proceed as usual. Our guests are here as observers only. Sara, will you begin the proceedings?” inquired Dr. Hansen.
“As all of you know, my name is Sara Livingstone. I am a former prostitute and drug mule. I entered the program eighteen months ago and completed my gene and behavior modifications one year ago. I was sent to culinary school in Seattle for six months and graduated summa cum laude, I’m proud to say. I have had the honor of being the Head Cook at the Palace for the last six months. I am graduating from the program, so next week, I will be taking the position of lunchroom cook, at Adams Junior High in Seattle. I will be living with three former graduates of the modification program, in an apartment in Ballard. Shelly, my Assistant Cook, who you all know, will be taking my place here and I’m sure you will love her cooking even more than mine!”
“Thank you, Sara. John, will you go next?” directed the doctor.
“My name is John Stansbury and I was convicted of killing a lot of people. They put me in the program two years ago and it took longer for me to complete my modifications than Sara. I guess they had to do more work on me,” he joked. “I work in the vegetable garden and the rest of the grounds with my friend, Pete. We keep the place looking spic and span, he laughed again. I don’t know when they are going to send me someplace else. I don’t mind, I like it here with all of you.”
And so, it went for the next hour. Each person in the circle briefly outlined their past history, current and future prospects. Thieves, murders, con men, the dregs of American society. Polite, calm, rational. Some were slow talking like John Stansbury, but others were lively and full of enthusiasm.
Some of the talks revealed the purpose of the bus ride into Seattle every day. The students were attending technical schools like the one Sara completed. Some were learning electronics repairs, others carpentry, accounting, small engine repair, even shoe repair. The list was almost endless.
Near the end of the round table, the doctor looked in the direction of a large well-muscled black man and said, “Leroy, I think it’s your turn.”
The man seemed stressed and reluctant to speak. Suddenly, his whole body began to shake violently with sobs. He then mumbled looking directly at the detectives, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please forgive me, in 2023, I killed two policemen in Oakland, California. I was high on smack and just didn’t care. I was an animal then.”
“Leroy, it’s all right. Those were the actions of the old Leroy Jackson. You’re a new man now!” consoled the doctor with a steady voice.
“Yes, Doctor that’s right. I’m a new man now. I’m training how to be a welder and someday I hope to work in a shipyard,” said Leroy, now suddenly calm.
“Steve, Sally, you may be wondering why all of the students are learning trades. This education will equip them to be productive members of the society that is coming. With the death of the ‘landfill economy,’ our once great nation will again need people who possess real skills. People who can repair and refurnish consumer electronics and appliances, once ‘planned obsolescence’ has been abolished. People that know how to build things, once the ‘offshoring’ of our productive industries has stopped. These rehabilitated felons will be the vanguard of our new, sane, and civil society.”
After the last student had spoken, the doctor thanked everyone for their participation and congratulated Sara and a student named Luis Guzman, who was also leaving the hotel to join a home builder in Tacoma as an apprentice carpenter.
The detectives stopped a number of the students and asked about their experience in the program and their new lives. They were unanimous in their positive feelings and support. Some said they were happy for the first time in their lives.
The eleven o’clock hour approached and the doctor told the deputies that the students would be departing for their beds shortly. The cops took this as their cue to depart. Sara and Dr. Hansen walked them to the front door, where Sally said, “Doctor, thank you so much for the delightful and informative evening. Sara, the dinner you prepared was delicious.”
Steve needed a parting shot, however, “Doc, what happens a month, year, or five years from now when your treatment wears off and they go back to being criminals?”
“Sargent Bailey, I can assure you that the modifications made to the subjects’ DNA and the medications that have been administered are permanent. The personality you see today in our students is the personality they will die with, many, many years from now. The changes are at the cellular level and irrevocable,” said the doctor with finality.
The two cops took their leave and headed back to the station house. Both rode in silence on the return trip until they reached the little town of Startup. Steve then said, “Well, if that wasn’t the biggest load of horse crap I ever heard. I got the names of every one of those preps and I plan to check them out and look at their rap sheets. If they check out, maybe I’ll become a believer, but until then, color me skeptical.”
“Steve, you know that if what the doctor said is true, this program will result in us working ourselves out of a job.”
“Yeah, you’re right,’ laughed Steve. “We bust some nose-picking, mouth-breathing scum bag, and a judge throws him in the clink, then some doctor, like Hanson, gets his hands on him and turns him into a solid citizen. Pretty soon the jails are empty and we’re out of work. Can’t happen soon enough for me!”
Just then a shiver ran down Sally’s spine and she felt suddenly cold, even though the car heater was blasting plenty of warm air into the SUV. “Steve, do you think this wonderful new world the scientists are creating, might just be a brave new world?”
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