The secrets of Miss Angelo

A red dusty Toyota parked outside miss Angelo´s house, Miss Angelo rarely get any guests especially not in the night time or from the lower class. It’s amazing how much information you can acquire, just off someone’s car. He left his door open he must be in a hurry, I spot bottles of hard liquor and rock music CDs, the owner of the car must be elderly who still uses CDs, he might consider him self tough. Why would 64-year-old Miss Angelo have such a guest I wonder, certainly not for business, she retired 1 month ago to move up here to Los Angeles. The license plate says Nevada, Miss Angelo spent her whole life in New York she told me, so not an old friend either. I light a cigarette and think no more of it, about five minutes later I hear a car accelerating at full speed and drive off, I look out the window and the Toyota is gone. I rushed out on Mulholland Drive and observed her house before ringing the doorbell you never know who is lurking at you. I ring the doorbell, no answer, I knock on the door, still no answer. I can tell the door is locked, the key hole has key broken into it spun about 180 degrees to the right her lock can’t do that unless its locked not with that kind of lock. I finish my coffee throw my mug into Miss Angelo’s bushes. The first sight when I come in is terrifying, but I have gotten use to it after my time as being a civil vigilante in my old town Grasberg, my identity was always hidden, and the citizens use to refer to me as The Revenger. Miss Angelo’s body was pale and only coloured from the blood on her chest, she was shoot. A trial of blood was leading from the kitchen drawer to the front door. It’s been a slow death for her. Miss Angelo was holding a marker and she had written a message on the wall regarding me “1826-2919-1990 The Revenger”.