Hiding within My Peers (#Wattys2016)

2 - Hugh Fisc's House

I arrived at his house half an hour later. He lived in the middle of nowhere in a beige house with two floors. Like a shadow, I moved toward his porch, and, with a lockpick tool kit and a pair of gloves that I was wearing in order to leave no fingerprints, I entered his house.

As soon as I entered, I could feel a distinct scint: smoke. A lot of it, actually. I tried to ignore it and I observed his house: I was in the living room. His house was very modern on the inside, unlike the outside, which looked very... rustic.

His living room had a lot of the space taken by a huge plasma and black armchairs and couches. Right in the middle of the room, there was an ugly huge rug, and, on top of it, a glass coffee table, with an ashtray full of half-smoked cigars and a pile of magazines.

Next to the television, there was two shelfs nailed to the grey wall. Several books, pictures and a radio lied peacefully there. He only had pictures of himself, which only made me think he lived alone.

According to the information I had received, I still had one hour and a half before Hugh Fisc (that was his name) arrived. Without having anything to do, I went to his fridge to see what he had.

His kitchen only proved that he lived alone: he had a table with only one chair. However, he had a lot of stuff on his fridge, maybe because he was a chef... I assumed he used to throw parties for his friends.

Anyway, I grabbed a beer and sat on the couch, while I reloaded my gun. After I was finished with that task, I looked for the invite in Hugh's bedroom.

His bedroom was different from the rest of the house. It seemed a lot more depressing. The bed's sheets were all tangled and his pillow had his head's mark, as if Hugh suffered from insomnia. I examined his closet. He didn't have much variety.

All the clothes he had were either a chef's outfit or a t-shirt with jeans. The only formal outfit he had was a white shirt, with a black blazer, black pants and a black bowtie, and his shoes were shiny cerimony shoes. I wore that to the party, along with a turbant I also found at his house... Funny... For someone with such a American name, he seemed like a Sikh...

When I checked the bedside table, it seemed like I would only found receipts and old condom packages, but after going through his stuff, I found the invite. It said: "Dear Hugh Fisc, you have been invited by the Pakistan Ambassador for a party in the Jayan Ballroom. Please show up at 21:00 on the 12th day of June. Dinner will not be served and you must wear a formal outfit."

"Jayan Ballroom? I never heard about that place before", I thought to myself. "Well, I guess I will have to look it up before the party tonight."

Then, I returned to the living room, where my beer was. I sat on the couch and I turned on the plasma. Meanwhile, I searched on my phone for the Jayan Ballroom's address. I was only 3 miles away, so I could stay on Hugh's house until it's party time. At the same time, I spotted a laptop, on top of the armchair.

I turned the plasma off so I could focus and the computer on. The guy had no password whatsoever so it was way too easy to access his personal stuff. I checked his social networks and his email. I checked his files but they were mostly recipes. Until I saw one called "The Ambassador's Plans". I tried to open it, but it was password protected, so I didn't even gave it a short, seeing I was afraid of getting the file deleted.

And then, suddenly, I heard keys. I assumed Hugh was coming inside, so I hid behind the door. He got in, having no idea what he had gotten himself into.
I grabbed my gun and, after closing the door so he would have no escape, I said:

- I don't usually kill innocents, but I will make an exception. - He, then, answered:

- An exception won't be needed.

He threw a ashtray onto my gun, which disarmed me. I was, then, tackled and I thought to myself: "Whoever this guy is, he is certainly not a chef".