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The afternoon was sultry; a hot wind was chasing a yacht across the golden waves of the sunset bay. A furtive figure, dressed in black despite the heat, slipped from the shadows cast by the stairwell. Large well manicured hands fumbled with a lock-pick at the door to apartment number 9. There came a loud click and the figure felt his breath catch as the door swung open silently.

Replacing the lock-pick he drew out a .357 Magnum revolver. Quietly, he manoeuvred through the apartment. As he passed the various rooms he noticed that some of the furnishings now seemed to display that definitive ‘woman's touch’ quality about them.

Now that he thought about it he noticed those things that would have been obvious to a blind person. What bachelor would have pastel coloured drapes and a vase of fresh flowers on the table? Come to think of it, he thought as he passed the lounge room, what bachelor would have a rocking chair with a chintz covered cushion on it?

Following the sounds of low moaning voices, he navigated through the apartment finally entering the bedroom. Standing there, just inside the door he watched the two people entwined in each others arms and legs. They were so engrossed in their passions that they did not notice him. Raising the pistol he fired two shots, killing both people instantly.

As he retreated from the bedroom he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. Yeah, I’m older now, but what did she see in him. He saw a man still fit and healthy and to his way of thinking, still in the prime of his life. Then he found that he was disgusted by what else he saw, the face of a killer.

Rushing from the vision in the mirror, not at all concerned with the bloodied scene he had left in the bedroom, he paused in the lounge room where he called the local police station. Without giving his name, he reported hearing two shots fired in the vicinity of Bayview Apartments, Tank Street, possibly apartment 9. Hanging up the phone he then went out onto the balcony, sat down and waited.


Chapter One.

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