The Faery Land (crime fiction)

      Lando knocks on the door of the elderly woman’s apartment.  Shadows swarm the doorsill below and a cold criminal voice inquires.
     “Who knocks?”  The woman squeals.
      Lando’s spine erects.  His eyes alert.  “Yarlo City Police.”
The shadow disappears from beneath the doorsill.  Lando draws his semi-automatic pistol.

The chain on the inside unhinges.  The locks turn.  The door slowly creaks open into the ceiling-lit room.  Lando leads with his pistol pointing at anything that moves.  But no one is present.  The door shuts abruptly behind him.  Lando twirls around.  Pistol pointed at the door.  No one.

     His heart hammers into his chest.  He perspires anxiously.  

He cautiously walks into the living room, examining the furniture and fixtures.  He sets his pistol on the lamp table and looks up at the glass framed portrait of a blue and black swallow tail butterfly. Transfixed on its exotic beauty he is aloof to his surroundings.  He forgets himself and his gun, and the cold criminal voice that greeted him at the door.

A shadow slides into the glossy frame reflection.  Lando snaps out of his stupor.  But before he can reach for his pistol, turn around and shoot.  He is on the floor, unconscious from a blow to the head.  He lies there helpless next to a pair of upright legs looming over him wearing white Velcro shoes.