Excerpt From

 "A Room Full Of Murder"

                                              By J.P. Nix

Hanging at the end of a rope off the roof of a high-rise apartment building like a worm dangling at the end of a fishhook is not my idea of fun.  The belt that the rope looped through tightened against my waist as I made my descent, slowly and steadily down the side of the building.  As many times as I have done this professionally and in practice, I still get nervous.  Although when you want to break into a penthouse apartment fifty floors off the ground with security on every floor, this is the only way.  You see I had a client who had paid me in advance, but couldn’t give me a key to the door.

            “I’m not sure how you’ll get in,” she smiled.  “But I really need this done.  He’s got the penthouse apartment on the fiftieth floor.  Prick!”

            My eyebrows rose.

            “Oh I’m sorry, “ she apologized.  “So frustrating.  I don’t even have a key to it or clearance to get past the security gate.  Bastard! But you can bet your bottom dollar She does!”

Softer, she said, “How are you going to manage it?” 

            “Let me worry about that.”

            “Oh John, your so good.”

            I’ve been waiting twenty years to hear her say that.

            The night wind was cold, cutting like a knife through the heavy clothing I wore.  The city sparkled below, lights gleaming upward towards me.  At the window, I removed the long curvy wire from the inside of my jacket, slid it underneath the windowsill, unlocking it.  

            Residents who live in high-rise apartments with security personnel usually don’t bother with an extra security keypad at their front door and motion sensors on their windows.  This one I hoped, was no exception to the rule, making my job easier.

            “The bastard usually doesn’t take the tramp back to the penthouse until after they have a night on the town, “she told me.  “I’ve been following them, but I haven’t been able to get a good look at Her.  All I know is that she is some redheaded flame and I’m going to put out both of their fires.  I need hardcore proof when I go to court.  Pre-nuptials are a bitch!”

            “They certainly are.  But just out of curiosity, have you tried talking with him?”

            She laughed.  “You don’t know Phillip Turner.  With Phil, there is no talking.  He thinks he’s King of the world, and that tramp is his Queen.  And I’m going to burn both of them!”

            With night-vision glasses, I took a quick tour of the apartment.  I wanted to make sure I was alone.  I walked quiet and slowly, looking and listening.  The penthouse as far as penthouses go, I suppose was average size.  No bodies, no pets, no nothing.  I noted the time at 8:30.  I had plenty of time.  I switched the lights on.