The alarm rang. Inside the Museum of Fine and Rare Artifacts someone reached out and grabbed something. The alarm's shrill note rang out into the darkness of the night and into the buzzing city of London. Up on the roof, a skylight was pushed open and it crashed down with an almighty noise. A hand appeared followed by a black clad figure wearing a balaclava, which left only his mouth and eyes uncovered. He clambered out and crouched silently on the tiles waiting. A few seconds later, another hand appeared. Another man. This person, although dressed in the same black...
taken down as evidence and then later relied upon in court." He then proceeded to handcuff her, but as he was fitting the left hand cuff, Finlow stiffened, screamed and broke free of his grip. Inspector Hendrix watched in horror as she ran to the edge of the roof, and without turning her head, leapt, pushing off from the gutter. She plummeted down to the ground and to her death. It began to rain. The stars flickered as the sun began to rise and the blood from Mrs. Finlow's head wound trickled through the weeds and down into the drain.