10

 No one present in the apartment noticed that, at that moment, a huge snake had quietly and silently emerged from behind the bedroom door, slithered out of the apartment, unmolested, and slithered toward the open chute.

Sewers, yes, the sewers would get into the house.

Yes, the scarf was a lucky shot. They probably would have arrested him anyway; the letter—deliberately signed "M," after all—was proof enough, lying abandoned next to the dead body, a white, motionless, silent, accusing piece of ordinary graph paper, but the man knew better. It was always worth adding something to further incriminate the victim, to ensure they had no chance. No way, Marcel certainly wouldn't get away with this. And that was how it was supposed to be. Exactly. You got what you deserved. You both got it.

Oh Laura, Laura, it could have been so beautiful.

Nothing, job done.

You have to find the snake. It will come in handy...

Because now...

Now...

Now it's Maise's turn...

The laughter, the empty, dry laughter of a madman, hung in the air for a long time. Like a knife someone had suspended in the smog-thick air.

I had succeeded. And I would succeed again.