caretaker hadn't replaced it yet. The pot plants on either side of the door had long since died. The sky turned from a dark blue to black and the thin crescent of the moon reflected in the pool. They took the lift to the second floor. As the lift travelled slowly up she told him that she was moving to Cape Town and was looking forward to starting her life over. Getting away from all the bad memories would help in her recovery. Her high-pitched, sharp voice irritated him. Shutting her up would be a pleasure. He pictured her begging for her life. But then the woman's face turned into hers. He resisted the urge to kill her then and there. Anger welled up in the pit of his stomach. Only seeing her blood would keep that deep-seated anger and hatred from consuming him without pity or remorse. Not being shown pity was something he was used to. No-one had ever shown him pity before, so why should he be any different on himself or anybody else.. "Are you new to the block?" she asked. "I haven't seen you before." He nodded. His mouth was dry and his hands were sweaty inside his gloves. "Did you hear about what happened on the fifth floor?" she asked, sounding nervous. He shook his head. He didn't trust himself to speak. "Mrs Oosthuizen in five-oh-five caught her husband with the maid. I always thought he was one of those. She threw him out