The twenty story Luxuria Arms was the place for many well-to-do folks to spend a night. And naturally, being able to afford the year’s rent on one of the more spacious and posh apartments on the top 10 floors was a status symbol for many.
I was here for only one reason: I was one of the elevator operators. The job was a mixed bag (or as visitors loved to joke, it had it ups and downs – ha ha), like anything else. I got to know some of the tenants pretty well, though, even better than they probably realized. Oh, I could tell you so many stories – for example, let me tell you about the group that entered at the same time a few days ago.
These five men were all out of their apartments for different reasons. Through a twist of coincidence, each of them lived on consecutive floors – not including the empty unlucky 13th floor, that is. All of them had lived here so long that management turned a blind eye to their “minor” rules infractions. I’d tried to report on one of them before, and only received a scolding to mind my own business.
They were, in no particular order, Carl, Mr. Jacobs, the man returning from work, the fellow known to ignore the public nudity regulations, and the person who lived on the highest floor, the 15th. The latter would normally end up being the last to leave, though this didn’t happen. But I’m getting ahead of myself; let me review them one by one.
Closest to me was the man clutching a bag of groceries that included food for an illegal pet. He (who wasn’t Ben or Mr. Hicks) did his best to keep its contents secret from everyone.
Next to him was Mr. Klein, whose first name was not Arnold. I didn’t think he suffered from claustrophobia, but he seemed rather fidgety today.
Dennis was in the middle of this impromptu lineup, looking a bit tired from his jog. Or maybe it was from his upstairs neighbor throwing an overly loud party again. I wondered what he would say if I told him that person also rode in this car.
Next was the man returning from his dealer, though he’d be surprised that I knew about his marijuana habit. Irony had no hold here, as he was neither Mr. Farmer nor Mr. Green. Then again, “Green” wasn’t the real name of the person in question, despite Luxuria’s by-laws regarding truth in identity.
Farthest away was the man waiting for the 10th floor, and his departure. He seemed to want little to do with this crowd, recoiling when another sneezed. In fact, let me think about each departure in order. Next was Mr. Farmer, then the pet owner, then Eric and finally the man who’d refused to leave on the 12th floor.
Yes sir, I thought I knew it all about these men, but I had one surprise coming. That last man to leave I mentioned near the beginning? It seems he left to get a roll of film developed. That film showed some of my own wrongdoings (which I’d obviously not get into), and he let me know that he and others wouldn’t put up with me trying to spill the beans. I agreed, knowing we were now in this together.
But my question to you is, can you tell me who it was? If you followed the clues, the full name, floor, infraction and reason for return for every person should be clear.
(Ed note: The answer will appear in the comments. Good solving to you!)