The Violation in 314 ✔️

***3***

--that would surely get the attention of his great aunt, and boss, Lucine. The woman was just shy of eighty and barely slept, waking up most nights at least half a dozen times to relieve herself. The best that Mickey could tell her bladder must have shriveled to the size of a walnut. Worst of all, when that woman woke tensions rose. She took forever to get back to sleep and God forbid there be any noises in the courtyard while she was trying. The woman had instituted a no talking on your balconies and no loud noises in your apartments after 10pm policy six years ago for just this reason.

If Mickey heard those voices yelling now, then Aunt Lucine would wake to those same voices. That meant a warpath at any moment. He had to find the tenants and have them tone it down or they could be facing an eviction. Not that he really cared if some loud, deadbeat tenant got kicked out, but if that woman woke up, then he could be looking for another job as well. Mickey half suspected he had been hired not for security but rather to make sure no end-of-the-week parties disturbed what remained of his Aunt Lucine's sleep. The more Mickey thought about it, the more certain he became that aunt Lucine had chosen the wrong profession when she became a live-on-site landlord.

Still, he had free room and board and a semi-secure job, so it was best not to complain. Plus if he held out until the old crone passed away, he might just inherit the place. It wasn't like she had any children or grandchildren.

Mickey rose from his chair with a groan, and stepped into the courtyard to investigate. Where were the voices coming from? There were maybe six apartments with lights on. That seemed two or three too many for twelve minutes after midnight on a Thursday, but it wasn't a violation of policy either. Yet somewhere, in one of those apartments, two people were yelling and threatening to wake his aunt.

One of the six lit up apartments was on the first floor, but the voices were coming from above, so he could rule that one out. Two more were on the second floor, but the voices were too hard to make out for a second story apartment. That left three apartments on the third floor or above with lights on – assuming the tenants weren't arguing in the dark. After a quick scan, Mickey locked on his target.

314. There was a sliding glass door open on their balcony, and the voices were definitely coming from within.

That's odd, he thought. They rarely cause any trouble. A young married couple lived there. They were mid-thirties at the most, but despite their age they usually behaved like they were in their forties or fifties. The unit's lights went out every night by ten, and there were no noise complaints, nor smoke complaints. They had never even thrown a party in their five years of residence. Of course, Mickey mused, there's a first-time for everything.

And that's when his eyes caught on the shattered remains of a ceramic window box smashed to bits just below 314's balcony. Well, damn. Maybe it's more than a few raised voices. Maybe Mr. Weber has finally flipped his lid and gone violent. Mickey smiled his crooked half smile. Perhaps tonight, ol' Mickey was going to get to lay down the law.