Daniel once again parked along the curb outside the District 5 Headquarters, beneath his favorite oak, observing the officers comings and goings. For the past four days, he’d researched ideas, fought with himself, and did more research, all with the intent of devising the perfect murder with his few remaining supplies or with none of his supplies at all.
In the end, he’d formulated a scheme that would require only his sleeping mixture and some duct tape—for the most part. The only hitch in his design was accessing a particularly high security area—of which he was observing right now. He glanced down at the schematics he’d procured online. If he could reach his desired destination within this particular building, he might just be able to pull this off, and he was determined to make it work, so he’d find a way to reach his ideal locale.
He’d also waited this long because he wanted the APD to think he’d moved on, so that they’d relax their guard and send their officers back to their routine patrols.
As for his victim of choice? He’d already selected her; but he couldn’t abduct her until all was set in motion, until everything was in place and his plan ready to execute. With his pulse pounding, he reached for the brand new toolbox he’d purchased just that morning, stepped from his car, and made his way toward the APD headquarters.
“Hey,” he muttered to himself as he walked down the sidewalk. “I’m Daniel and I’m entering the lion’s den. There’s got to be some psychological significance here.” He restrained himself from laughing aloud at the parallel between his situation and the Bible story, but he still found it amusing enough to plaster a smile on his face.
He grinned widely, nodding boldly at the passing officers as he pulled open the door that would lead him where he never thought he would go.
“Can I help you?” the desk sergeant asked immediately.
“Elevator maintenance,” Daniel replied simply.
The sergeant nodded and then returned his attention to his paperwork.
Morons like you are why people die, Daniel said tacitly. You could have at least verified my credentials, inspected my toolbox…anything to prove I am who I say I am.
After a moment, he decided that, once again, fortune must be willing his experiments to succeed or things would never go perfectly for him. He then quickly determined it was best not to tempt fate and headed toward the stairwell, reviewing in his mind the schematics he’d memorized.
He only hoped he was easily able to access the pit where the safety buffer for the elevator car was located, or he’d be headed back out the front door; his idea scrapped, and a new search started for another scheme.
However, reaching his destination was only the beginning in this instance, because once he determined whether this plan was doable, he would only have a very small window—a matter of hours—in which to set everything up, including the victim. This vicinity was simply too high risk in order to allow for too much passage of time. The longer he was in the building…he shook the thought of capture from his mind. He couldn’t afford to allow stress and nerves to draw attention to his presence.
A few minutes later, he approached the small closet-sized room, near the base of the elevator shaft. A quick inspection discovered little space for maneuvering, which meant he’d have to work with the door open and start praying that no one came down here.
He pulled open the small metal latch that accessed the actual shaft and sighed. If he thought, the closet was a tight space…this room made the closet look like a stadium. In order to accomplish what he needed to accomplish, he was going to have to make some alterations.
With a quick glance down the corridor to ensure he was still alone, he opened his toolbox and retrieved a keyhole saw, then settled on his knees and started sawing through the sheetrock around the latch; thankful once more that the pit wasn’t housed in concrete or brick—although, he’d come prepared for that also.
Half-hour later, he pushed the sheetrock aside and maneuvered through the hole he’d made. He looked up and saw the elevator car high up the shaft. A quick inspection of the pit revealed what he was searching for—the buffer.
The buffer is the spring-rod protrusion that prevents the elevator from impacting the concrete flooring on the lowest level. It also provides a buffer between the car and the passengers, preventing an annoying jarring sensation each time it stops.
Daniel sat back and waited until the elevator descended and tapped the buffer firmly, but gently. He grinned. “This is perfect,” he purred, noting the distance between the car and the walls. He’d need to be precise or the elevator could jar the equipment he sets up, and that wouldn’t do at all.
The elevator sat for a few minutes longer and then started its slow ascent.
“Time to get started,” he murmured. He reached back and retrieved the items he’d need from his toolbox.