It was no accident that he had chosen this house. It was a modern home in an old building. It was cool in summer and warm in winter. The walls were thick and the floors were sturdy. In a time of quick builds and optimised space they literally didn’t make them like this anymore. He’d bought several in cash with stolen CIA seed money when he’d first dropped under the radar and laid a paper trail back to his old boss to cover the theft. If any auditors went looking for the missing loot the investigation would wind up at his door and the murdering douchebag would end up in Alaska or Arizona chasing sovereign citizens.
While an estate agent might drool over this “des res” in reality its true value was in its capacity to hide secrets. There was an chest freezer in the front room under the floorboards that could hide a dead body indefinitely. The downstairs had three knives hidden in various recesses and there was a disassembled glock in the master bedroom. It would take a day with metal detectors and pick axes to find them all if he was ever unlucky enough to be raided but for the casual visitor or even a cursory search they did not exist.
He opened the front door, being careful to pass his watch with a hidden RFID chip by the detector under the sideboard. On it stood a souvenir waving cat as you would usually see at the counter in takeaway shops and other Chinese owned establishments. It had a motorised arm that waved back and forth, back and forth constantly. If any of the silent alarms had tripped the arm would have stopped moving. There was knife and a taser hidden in the shoe rack for just such an eventuality.
The house fit him like a tailored suit, (and with pockets in all the right places)
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