Downtown
While trying to find a cab, she ...
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Find a seedy hotel near you and describe it..
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Leaving the Chelsea Guilt Free
I appreciate a colorful dawn, a sleeping city, and the afterglow of an erotic murder. They go together like old men, sales conventions, and my hourly rates.
The cab arrives and I calculate I have six hours before the hotel staff finds the body. It's an eternity in my profession and I almost feel guilty when jobs go this easy.
Almost.
Guilt isn't my best feature.
The cab ride through silent streets feels vivid and electric. My driver is preoccupied with a cell phone call and doesn't pester me like most.
At my temporary apartment, I shuck off the blonde wig and my murder accoutrement and scrub my way through the stage makeup back to me. Another hour, another cab, an evidence drop, and finally back to establish my alibi. Each step requires obsessive attention to ensure the plan unfolds in perfect detail.
The city wakes.
I vanish into anonymity.
The TV reports the death of a real estate developer at the hands of a prostitute who remains at large. Why do my clients hate these tycoons so much?
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