Hansen realized, the following morning, some sleep was still surviving within him. He felt delighted because his eyes were ready to be closed for sometimes after two of the worst days of his entire life. He didn’t know if it was his sleeping pills or something else which had caused him to lie in his bed till 9:30. He had slept at four after he had done the rest of his cover – up order his mind had given to him. He had a red bucket of dark red enamel in the basement (mixed with mud), which partially was poured on the laminated floor. Overnight he was now an owner of pet cat and its all four paws were soaked in the same red color. The traces of red paws were all over the house. This was all because, last night, he couldn’t scrub the blood clean so he had to make excuse to Deighan that his cat had ruined his painting's plan.

He did not give a damn about bodies and did not care about the money too. He thought he had made a wise decision by not hiding money inside the house when he yawned all the way to downstairs.

The rest of his sleep within him flew away as he saw his house all messed up. The room which he had cleaned and arranged looked nothing less than a junkyard. He was shocked to see collection of his pots broken, his favorite novels on the floor and furniture broken down.

For the next few minutes he kept wandering in all rooms of his house just to discover everything which had turned messy overnight. It seemed like robbery had happened there and Hansen hadn’t even heard a bit of it in his sleep. He hadn’t even heard a single China – Clay shatter.

But who could have done it and why? From the window, he saw his random pits dug on garden like somebody had wanted to botch his greenery. It did look as if someone was digging in search of something there.

He found his pet cat dead on the floor with the vertebrate broken…like somebody had stomped the life out of it. Only a heavy man could do it in a single stomp.

A minute later he heard his doorbell ring. Again.

APPROX 1:00 AM,

The same rural block was shared by Stanley Peplinski and Benjamin Hansen. Peplinski who was about twenty – five had got a visitor when he had gone downstairs in order to empty his urinary bladder. He presumed he had left the toilet lid open but this time his wife wasn’t in the house to complain for doing so.

Peplinski forgot to urinate when the chubby visitor entered inside the house. He was an unknown face and perhaps had the biggest stomach he had seen in recent years. Most of all, he wanted information from Peplinski. After the man told who he was and what his purpose was, Peplinski couldn’t turn him down.

"Get fresh. Have some coffee if you want because you ain't sleeping tonight." the man had said. The man asked if he'd seen somebody enter inside Hansen's house or not. Peplinski never needed any binoculars or Hubble Telescope to see what was going in Hansen's house area. He could even look into his bedroom with ease but the young lad for he had his wife always besides him.

Curtains closed! Lights out! Some sounds and silence…

It was how his nights turned into morning. Peplinski told him that maybe at ten; he had seen someone get in the house but didn’t see him come out.

When he had opened the window to empty his ashtray then he had seen Hansen's painful attempt to dig a pit. The man couldn’t help himself from asking about Hansen's past.

"Rick Tarot knows better. You know, they're somewhat like pals indeed." he replied.

"Will you do me a favor?" he asked Peplinski.

"Anything for you – "

The fat man told him his name then after.