Angles in the Dark

A hallway at night is merely a stage waiting for its cue. I slid forward from the display alcove, drawing my shredded sleeves close to avoid any telltale rustle against the drywall. The polished floorboards demanded respect—step on the center grain, and they groan; trace the narrow edge along the baseboard, and you are silence itself. Near the bend, a tall wooden coat rack cast a brooding shadow. The gap behind its heavy trench coats offered an impeccable vantage point. Slipping into the recess between the oak post and the wall, I gently nudged the thick wool hem aside to survey the corridor. Every good mystery begins from an unseen vantage.