Page 99 - The Houseguest

RECONAISSANCE
It was winter now, and just as I’d meticulously planned, I sat parked outside Rachel’s tenement. I waited until she left for work, knowing her Tuesday shift was 9-5 and when she had to leave to get there on time. I walked the stairs to the train platform and sat on a bench with a newspaper. I made myself as inconspicuous as the pigeons on the street, watching until the train doors closed behind her. Then, I walked back to my car and made a phone call.
There was a locksmith with whom I had become good friends from working on so many cases. He trusted me and I trusted him. Of course, there was always an added level to this relationship of reciprocal trust in the form of a few hundreds, which in this case I turned into thousands. The man needed cash and I had enough to burn. I knew him very well, but still had to guarantee his silence. It was like an invisible contract to which we both agreed. Besides, I wasn’t going to seize her from her apartment. It wouldn’t even be mentioned in the news.
I told him I’d been working on a case and needed to get access to a victim’s apartment. I walked to a local bakery, sat down and waited for him. When he showed, I walked him up to apartment 4G. The building was old and the dank hallways smelled like urine. I waited anxiously, trying to appear composed. It took him only ten minutes before he had it opened. I had to admire him as an expert in his field, and reminded him that this must remain strictly confidential as I discreetly transferred more than enough cash to buy his silence over a handshake.
I walked to the end of the hallway and watched through a dirty window, as he exited the building. I looked around me before quickly
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The Houseguest by Linda Ellis www.LindaEllis.life