i didn’t like the sound of that punk’s voice, murphy thought grimly as he went back and sat down in his chair beside the window looking out at the rain.
and then it hit him.
of course! the punk was just trying to get into the building. he didn’t have any friend in apartment 8 - the guy in apartment 8 probably didn’t have any friends.
the punk wanted to get into the building to steal stuff.
like murphy’s map!
his map of hitler and stalin’s hidden treasure.
murphy got up, went over the battered dresser in the corner beside the window, opened the middle drawer and felt under his socks and underwear.
whew! the map was still there.
to be really sure, he took the manila envelope out from under the underwear and opened it to make sure the real actual map was in it,, not something some thief had substituted.
it was the real map all right.
i shouldn’t be so paranoid, he thought briefly for the ten thousandth time.
murphy went back to the window. the rain had slacked off a bit, but it still soothed his weary soul to look out at it.
what was that?
did he hear something in the corridor outside?
it was hard to tell - one thing about this dump of a building - it was old and the walls were pretty thick. somebody could get murdered or have a satanic ritual in the room next door and you might not hear it.
he went over to the door and listened.
he could not hear anything but he could feel something.
No comments:
Post a Comment