Alexander Steele and the Legacy of Death - Excerpt

The dimly lit hallways in the rundown apartment building were painted blood red. It was clear from the stains, cracks, and writing along the walls that the apartment building was way overdue for a fresh coat of paint. Even though the rain had cooled things off outside the hallway was hot and muggy.

Odors of cheap wine and urine permeated throughout the dilapidated three story walkup. Steele ignored the police sirens wailing in the distance. He walked by an old black pay phone with a dozen or so phone numbers scribbled on the wall before climbing the rickety stairs. Apartment 12 was at the end of the hall on the right. Not knowing what to expect he cautiously approached the apartment then drew his weapon when he noticed the door was slightly opened. An open door especially in this neighborhood was usually a bad sign.

As if that wasn’t enough the foul smell coming from the hallway was suddenly replaced by the stench of a rotting corpse. As the sound of the sirens grew louder Steele considers the possibility that they may be headed his way. He had to move fast. The floor boards creaked as he crept into the small apartment. An old porcelain lamp with painted pink roses topped with a battered cream colored lamp shade gave Steele enough light to navigate around the room. A small picture frame has been tossed into the small black waste basket next to an old raggedy lounge chair. The toxic smell of death grew stronger as he moved towards the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye Steele caught a glimpse of..........