Leaning against the door, Jan breathed a long sigh of relief. His journey home had been uneventful, which was a blessing after his distressing day. Pulling off his hoodie, he shook it out, then hung it up on the peg next to the front door. He would get into trouble with Marsha, for not leaving it outside, but what the hell …
Crossing the hall into the kitchen, he pulled a beer from the fridge and cracked it open. Taking a deep swig, he let the cool lager wash over his tongue, before swallowing it down. Instantly, he felt refreshed and revitalized. He loved this beer, which he bought at the Slovakian shop around the corner for a dollar fifty. Tipping up the bottle, he emptied it in one go, before casually tossing it in the trash.
He was very tempted to have another. Laying a hand on the fridge door, he was about to pull it open, when suddenly he paused. A small movement on the periphery of his vision had caught his attention. The blind over the kitchen window, which was fully lowered, was flapping slightly.
Puzzled, Jan crossed the room. Raising the blind, he noticed that the window was fractionally open, a tiny gap visible just above the sill. Immediately he felt his body tense up. Marsha had been the last one out and there was no way she would have left it open. She was paranoid about security, about living in a big American city, always checking and rechecking windows and doors before going out. And he knew he had not opened the window this morning, so …
He examined the lock. This had always been flimsy – another source of concern for Marsha, who’d urged him to buy a new one – but now it came off in his hand altogether. Seriously alarmed, he opened the window to examine the sill and found a telltale scuff mark where some of the wood had splintered. Someone had used a crowbar or a chisel to gain access. Someone had been in the flat.
Crossing to the kitchen unit, he pulled open the bottom drawer. He kept all his tools in here and now removed a hammer, before sliding it shut once more.
His heart was beating fast, but slowly, cautiously, he crept from the kitchen, before darting his head into the living room. The sight of the TV and DVD player relaxed him, as did the pristine state of the furniture. Had someone gained access and then been scared off? Leaving the small room, he edged along the hallway towards the back of the flat. Their home was tiny and he felt sure he would know if there was someone in here with him, but still he had to check.
Teasing the bedroom door open with his foot, he looked inside. Everything seemed in order, so he entered carefully. The room was quiet and seemed deserted, but he checked behind the door, in the closet, even under the bed. Relieved, he crossed the landing to the guest bedroom. Already he felt better about things, there was nothing of value in here.
This too seemed unmolested – there was nobody under the bed, behind the door – so lowering his hammer and breathing a long sigh of relief, he opened the closet door.
To find a man in a ski mask looking directly at him.