He picked a name at random on another floor and pressed the glowing yellow doorbell.

"Yeah, what is it?" a gruff male voice asked after an agonizingly long moment.

"Exterminator," Smith replied. His lemony voice was crisp and precise. "Maintenance called about a cockroach problem in-" he read the name and apartment number from the tag "-the Robertsons' apartment next to yours. I'm here to spray."

"Why didn't maintenance let you in?"

"I was given the passkey to the apartment, but the custodian failed to give me the key to the front door," Smith said into the speaker. "He was called away on an emergency in another building. It doesn't matter to me if you don't let me in. However, the insects are in a breeding cycle right now. If I have to leave now, this entire building could be infested by the time I get back."

The unseen man exhaled angrily. "Those people are animals," he grunted.

There was a buzz and the security lock opened. Smith slipped inside. He took the stairs to the second floor and hurried to Howard's apartment.

The door was locked. However, unlike the security door downstairs, this one was just a standard dead bolt. Smith took out his wallet and removed a small set of burglary tools. With a few deft wiggles he picked the lock.

The apartment was dark. The curtains were drawn on the dreary morning. Smith shut the door behind him, feeling on the wall for the light switch. "Mark?" Smith called.

No answer. Smith wasn't carrying a weapon. Stepping cautiously, he did a quick search of the apartment.

He found no one. However, there were droplets of water in the shower stall. In the kitchen, a banana peel in a bag under the sink had not yet fully blackened. A cereal bowl in the sink had a small amount of milk in the bottom that had not yet soured. Clearly, his assistant had showered and eaten breakfast in his apartment that morning.