Light As A Feather

Well, when I heard about the robbery up the street the night before, it seemed almost too good to be true. Despite elaborate security systems, this had been one in a series of break-ins and shootings that had occurred in our neighborhood over the summer. That's how I got the idea to make things look that way. Lyla, our live-in maid, set the stage that very morning as she expressed her fears over a story in the newspaper.

I cut a hole in the screen large enough for a hand to fit through and reach the knob. I used Duncan's old pocketknife. It never occurred to me that one of the panes on the outer door was much closer to the knob and a much more logical choice for a thief in a hurry. That was one of the details that nailed me, as you know. I also didn't figure that Brutus's not barking would work against me. I should have realized that meant the dog knew the intruder and sensed no danger. That big German Shepherd was the only witness and he slept through it all!

I climbed the stairs to the second floor. One hand stroked the flocked wallpaper that I had selected so lovingly in happier days, while the other tightened its grip on the "stolen" revolver. I had picked that particular pattern because it reminded me of that hotel room in New Orleans. You know exactly which one I mean. Our time there was very precious to me. Don't look away, Raymond. I cannot bear that now.