Hotel Staff Enter the Room After Complaints - Then Find the Bathroom Locked

Pay attention to the woman checking into the Riverfront Inn on the evening of March 14th.
Her name is Cynthia Brennan. She's twenty-nine years old, a paralegal from Columbus. She's clutching a leather briefcase and pulling a wheeled suitcase behind her. She looks tired but composed. Professional. She's in Cleveland for a legal conference that starts the following morning. Room 412. Fourth floor. Corner unit with a partial view of the Cuyahoga River.
Now, pay attention to the man who approaches the front desk seven minutes later.
His name is Martin Kowalski. He's thirty-seven, works in industrial supply distribution, and he's booked the same hotel for a trade show. The clerk assigns him Room 414. Two doors down from Cynthia Brennan. Martin asks about the hotel gym hours. He smiles. He seems friendly. Unremarkable.
Within eighteen hours, hotel staff would receive their first noise complaint about Room 412.
Within thirty-six hours, they would find the bathroom door locked from the inside.
This was not a legal conference. It was a trap.