The Neighbor from Hell
Knocking on the door, Abel waited only a few seconds before it swung inward revealing Albert dressed in a housecoat standing there, wide grin on his gaunt face. He was an older man, maybe retirement age, emaciated and several inches shorter than Abel.
“Abel, I thought you had left for the day,” greeted the reed thin Albert, swiping a hand across the few remaining strands of salt and pepper hair decorating his pate and grinning with teeth bordering on yellow.
Smiling, “Albert, sorry to be bothering you this early in the morning, but I may need a bit of favor if you’re going to be around the building today?” he replied, glancing left then right furtively.
Albert’s face lit up as he swallowed the bait, “Oh? I’m pretty sure to be home today, well except maybe to go down and check the mail,” he answered. “I thought I saw some of DC’s finest here last night. I hope everything is okay?” he said, eyes burning feverishly with curiosity.
Abel nodded, “That’s kind of why I’m talking to you this morning. There may or may not be a person or persons coming by my apartment today, could be a lady, might not be. Now they’re not supposed to let themselves in, but if they do, I need you to call me right away. Do you think you could do that?” he inquired.
Licking his thin lips, Albert nodded, “Of course,” he nodded, smacking his lips. “Now it might help if I knew just who these people might be,” he suggested, eyes narrowing.
“You know who I work for?” Abel asked, tilting his head slightly to one side.
“You’re with the government,” he replied.
Abel smiled. “Actually it’s the FBI and I know I’m being kind of vague about all of this, but that’s only because of how limited our intelligence is at the moment and I don’t want to inadvertently expose you to any unnecessary risk,” Abel provided, grinning inwardly. Planting the seed of importance with Albert would keep the nosy man glued to the door for the entire day.
Rubbing his hands together, Albert nodded, “Do you want me to stop them?” he asked, eager to participate.
“No, no. I just need you to surveille the hall and report any unusual activity back to me. I cannot stress enough how important it is that you only watch. If you try to intervene you might be tipping this person or these people off that we’re onto them and that might jeopardize the overall operation,” Abel counseled.
“Operation,” Albert murmured, broad smile creasing lines into his gaunt face.
“The scope of this is pretty big, and you just might be the key that helps us crack this. Now do you have a pen and paper? I’ll give you my personal cell number,” Abel offered.
The slender man darted back into his apartment, returning almost instantaneously with pencil and yellow pad of sticky notes.
Abel provided his digits, watching to make sure Albert jotted them down correctly.
“Must be pretty important,” Albert commented, trying to ferret out additional morsels of information.
Abel nodded slowly, “It could be,” he conceded, raising a conspiratorial eyebrow and reaching out to clap a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder.
“Well, you can certainly rely on me,” Albert proclaimed emphatically.
Releasing Albert, Abel stepped back, “I have to go now, but remember, anything seems off, or someone is trying to sneak in there, you let me know,” he instructed, pointing an index finger at Albert’s skinny chest and turning away. He could hear incomprehensible mumbling coming from the intensely inquisitive man as he strode down the hall. The thought of unleashing Albert on whomever it was messing around with him put a satisfied smile on his face. He felt very confident Albert would hover around the peephole all day, like a cat over a mouse hole. If Lily or whomever was using that name showed up, he would know and that might just be the edge he needed to give him the upper hand and bring her down.
“Deal with that,” he smugly said as he stepped into the elevator.
Riding the lift back down to the parking garage, he walked over to his car. His personal phone buzzed.
Stopping, he pulled the phone out of his pocket. It was a message from Albert. “Just making sure this was the right number.”
Abel nodded, “Yes, but only text if you see someone,” he replied, sliding the phone back into his jacket and resuming his trek to the car.
The phone vibrated again. Another message from Albert. “What if it’s the police, do you want me to text you and let you know?”
Letting out a long breath, Abel shook his head. “If it’s anyone other than me,” he stipulated, remaining still and holding his phone in his hand and waiting, anticipating, knowing there would be another message.
Sure enough, “Copy, that’s the right term right? Copy? When you’re done?” came the response.
Chuckling ruefully, “You’re killing me here Albert,” he mumbled out loud, thumbs dexterously moving over the touch screen. “Yes, copy will suffice. I have to get in my car and drive to work now. Since I don’t have a text converter for Bluetooth, let’s maintain some radio silence unless there’s something to report,” he suggested.
“Copy.”
Looking toward the concrete ceiling, Abel shook his head and growled under his breath, slipping the phone into his pocket and walking with purpose. Arriving at his car and getting in, he fastened the seatbelt before sliding the key fob into the ignition. Turning it to the right, he started the engine. His phone buzzed, vibrating against his chest. Shaking his head and chuckling softly, he pulled the phone out of his pocket. It was Albert.
“I just saw that young woman from down the hall named Amy Wilkerson walk passed my door toward the elevator. It looked like she was carrying a laundry basket full of what looked like dirty clothes. Copy.”
Staring at the phone, a pang of regret stabbed him in the belly. Should he explain the difference between ‘over’ and ‘copy’ to Albert? Maybe it would just be simpler to just shoot him? No. “Copy,” he typed before putting the car in gear and steering his car out of the underground lot.