Elevating Circumstances

Christopher Newman had had a very long day. An elevator repairman works strange hours. He had just finished his last job of the day and looked forward to a shower and a rest. And then food. He hadn't eaten since morning. Just as he was settling into his study, in his favourite chair with a cup of coffee and The New York Times, the phone rang. Annoyed he continued to read. But the phone couldn't be ignored. "Christopher Newman" he snapped. It was his boss. Half an hour later, and in a horrible mood, he arrived at East Sixty Second Street and rang the bell. Some rich lady, Mrs. Foster had broken her personal elevator. And at 67 was not able to climb up the stairs. And of course, having taken a vacation last month he was the one to go. Christopher Newman hated evening calls. He opened the door and was surprised to meet the old lady herself. For this six-story palace he expected the maid or even the butler. Mrs. Foster quickly invited him in. She had the most peculiar look on her face, not evil but content. As he entered the first thing he noticed was a peculiar stench, not pleasant. She led him across the hall to the far corner of the house. The smell was getting stronger. He made no comment. She showed him the elevator and asked if she should stay. Hearing his reply she left, with an odd smile. The elevator was stuck between the second and third floors. Climbing the maid's stairway to the third floor, he felt the air thicken. He tensed, not knowing why. He approached the elevator and noticed something peculiar. A shirt sleeve was hanging between the doors of the shaft. Relieved it was so easy he began to pull it out, gently. The sleeve wasn't moving. He sighed. Decided to take a closer look. He shut his eyes and counted to ten. He reopened them and yelped disbelief. A body was slowly rotting away. He suddenly understood the smell, and his mind convulsed when he remembered Mrs. Foster's mood. He opened the doors, and glanced the long way down the shaft to the floor, where the body lay. Looking upwards he saw an arm, half decomposed, stuck. He hurried to Mrs. Foster's study, entranced by the way she sat their so innocently. She knew! She had known all along! She smiled a connoisseur's smile and glanced oh-so-innocently up at him. He asked her to follow him. She smiled sweetly and hobbled along panting hard going up the stairs. He motioned her to the elevator. Turning his back on Mrs. Foster, he was unprepared for the long fall that came next, the blackness. Mrs. Foster call to the ambulance was tearful. She told them of the of the very nice elevator man who had fallen down the elevator shaft and asked them to come right away.

A/N I can't figure out how to re-format this. On my computer it is all double spaced and paragraphs are indented but I can't figure out how to work it out on ff.net, this is the first story I have posted.