With John safely handcuffed and unconscious in my washroom I went to work reinforcing the front door. I had to work quickly because once the Bone Syndicate realized their friend in the car wasn't amongst the living anymore they would be on their way to exact their revenge on me.

Ani had suggested I use screws instead of nails because apparently they had a better grip strength. So dutifully I set two hand width planks of wood across the door and screwed them directly into the frame. The door would give a bit but the planks would stop it from opening all the way. If everything went according to plan at least two of the gangsters would be in the doorway trying to gain entry when the fun began.

For good measure I took a wet towel and shoved it under the door gap to prevent the gas from escaping and taped over the seams where the door met the frame. It wasn't air tight but it was good enough for now.

I took a cheap extension cord and cut the female end off leaving two exposed wires. I stripped the insulation off of the last few centimeters of wire and attached the negative terminal to a screw in the floor and twisted the positive terminal into a loop which I draped over the exposed screw taking care to ensure there was no contact between the two. When they forced open the door the loop would be pressed against the screw creating a spark and completing the circuit.

Carefully I plugged in the extension cord and listened for the tell tale click of a blown fuse. Satisfied that my trap would function as it should I turned my attention to John. He was wearing one of my spare uniforms along with my collar. Luckily I had been able to shim the mechanism and slide it off without having to cut anything.

I knew that they eventually would get the DNA results back from the lab and realize it wasn't me. But that could take weeks and I could get a lot done in a week if everyone thought I was dead. As I undid his handcuffs John began to stir. He looked up at me with his eyes nearly swollen shut and asked me why I was doing this to him.

"Linzertorte." I explained as I doused him in lamp oil. The petrochemical stink of the accelerant almost covered up the smell of blood and piss, almost. John tried to get away but was too hurt to move.

"What?" He sputtered, not understanding. Of course his kind never did. They were incapable of understanding or empathy or anything else that might redeem them. They just went around like wrecking balls hurting those close to them. And an object in motion would continue until acted upon by an outside force.

"You don't deserve an answer." I told him as I closed the washroom door and secured it with two more planks from the inside. I taped over the seams so that the gas wouldn't get in and turned on the fan. I didn't want John dying on me prematurely.

I looked down at the broken and soon to be dead Döbian beneath me. The simple truth was that I was doing this to him now because I had always wanted to. I had fantasized about murdering John long before Moira disappeared.

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I think it started after the first time I asked Moira to leave him and she refused. John had beaten her so badly that she could barely walk and to compound her misfortune the elevator had been broken. So she had made her way slowly and painfully up and down ten flights of stairs every day while she healed.

When I asked her if she needed help with the stairs she hadn't been relieved. No, she had been afraid, afraid of what John would do to her if he saw another male helping her. It took her more than an hour to go up the stairs alone, but she did it. She did it every day without a single complaint.

When the pain was too much Moira would stop on one of the landings and look down. At first I thought she was thinking about jumping but when I asked her about it she told me that she liked seeing how far she had come. She said that it helped her stay motivated.

What force of will she must have had to drag herself up and down those stairs every single day with nothing to look forward to but a husband that beat her whenever his favorite sports team lost.

I asked her to report him or even to just leave but she refused and I knew then that she would never leave him. A few days after our conversation she came to me with a freshly baked linzertorte. I knew what it was, a bribe not to report or harm her husband.

Knowing now what would happen I wish that I had refused her offering and beaten John to death with my bare hands that very night. But instead I had been a good Döbian and stayed out of it. I had savored the buttery crust and sweet currant jam of the torte and told myself that it was her choice to stay or leave. Then one day she disappeared and by then it was too late for me to do anything.

I looked down at John. "In a few minutes the apartment will be filled with toxic gas. Sometime after that some gangsters are going to try and break through the front door and when they do you'll be killed in the explosion." I pointed to the window set up high in the wall for ventilation.

"If you want to survive all you have to do is climb out that window. It's going to hurt, it's going to take everything you have, but if you can do that you'll be safe." I tossed my useless sidearm down to him, it needed to be found with his body for this to work.

"Your wife managed ten flights of stairs every single day with broken ribs and a fractured leg. I'm sure a big strong hund like you will be fine."

Then I crawled out the window and closed it after me leaving John to his fate. He begged and pleaded but I ignored it. What happened to him was in God's hands now.

I jumped down onto the balcony and retrieved my things from inside the apartment. After making one last check to make sure there wasn't something I was forgetting I opened up the cylinders of gas.

There were no vents or central heating for the gas to escape through and the walls were thick reinforced concrete so I figured the damage would be mostly contained. I tossed my bag of things onto the neighbor's balcony and leaped over after it. I repeated the process and entered John's apartment through the sliding glass door I had left open when I was there earlier.

The trap was set, the bait was alive and broadcasting its location to anyone who cared to look. Now all I could do was kill time and wait. I retrieved the encrypted radio from Sacher's parcel.

"Hey Iron Hand." I said as I looked around John's apartment for something to eat. "You want to meet up later and have some fun?"

The reply came through crystal clear. "Ja, I'm game."