"Damn it, Ville! Where is my credit card?!"

"I'm sure it is in your wallet, sir. It's always there."

Marcel picks the wallet up off the hotel bed and walks over to Ville. Ville could see nothing wrong with the wallet at first glance - everything seemed to be in place.

"Look: cash, picture of Floutenhoften, massage card, no credit card."

"Interesting, sir. Do you think the hotel staff took it?"

"Ville, I don't want to go around accusing people, but how is there any other alternative? Get the hotel management on the phone."

"Very good, sir. One moment."

"Hello, this is Ricardo, manager of the Ramada Inn. How can I help you?"

"Hey, Ricardo, was my room cleaned recently? It seems some of my personal affects were stolen."

"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir. Let me check. ... No, in fact, your room has not been cleaned since yesterday."

"Very interesting. Thank you, Ricardo." "Ville, what do you think happened??"

"I don't know, sir. Maybe you dropped it while we were at that boat party."

"Maybe. Can you just go ahead and call the company and cancel the card? I don't want whoever took it to get too much."

"Yes, sir."

Ville picks up the phone and dials a number.

"Sir, the credit card company is telling me that $10,000 of purchases were made in the last 24 hours, but they did not notify you due to your past spending habits."

"Are you f%#$ kidding me right now?"

"Sir, they say that all $10,000 was spent on ... sports bras?

Marcel hangs his head and gives out a sigh.

"Damn it, Miranda."