He felt nothing. No sense of evil,

He felt nothing. No sense of evil, no lingering tremors of terror.
The unsub had not come in through the door. Nor had he gone wandering
through his newly claimed kingdoni of death. He had focused all his time, all
his attention, on lhe bedroom.
Moore walked slowly past the tiny kitchen and started up the hallway. He
relt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to bristle. At the first doorway he
paused and stared into the bathroom. He turned on the light.
Thursday is a warm night. It is so warnz that all across the city, windows are
left open ro catch every stray breeze, every cool breath of air. You crouch on the
fire escape, sweating in your dark clothes, staring into this bathroom. There is no
sound: the woman is asleep in the bedroom. She has ro be up early for her job at
the florist’s, and at this hour her sleep cycle is passing into its deepest, iliost
unarousable phase.
Size doesn't hear the scratch of your putty kni/e as you pry open the screen.
Moore looked at the wallpaper, adorned with tiny red rosebuds. A
woman's pattern, nothing a man would choose. In every way this was a
woman's bathroom, from the strawberry-scented shampoo, to the box of
Tampax under the sink, to the medicine cabinet crammed with cosmetics. An
aqua-eye-shadow kind of gal.
You climb in the window, and fibers of your navy-blue shirt catch on the
frane. Polyester. Your sneakers, size 8 1/9, leave prints coming in on the white
linoleum floor. There are traces of sand, mixed with crystals of gypsum. A typical
mnix picked upfronz walking the city of Boston.
Maybe you pause, listening in the darkness. Inhaling the sweet rorei8nness of a
woman's space. Or maybe you waste no time but proceed straight to your goal.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 2:

Dia merasa apa-apa. Tidak ada rasa jahat, tidak ada tremor berlama-lama teror.
Unsub tidak datang melalui pintu. Atau dia pergi mengembara
melalui kingdoni yang baru diklaim kematian. Dia telah memusatkan seluruh waktunya, semua
perhatiannya, pada LHE kamar tidur.
Moore berjalan perlahan melewati dapur kecil dan memulai lorong. Dia
relt rambut di belakang lehernya mulai bulu. Pada pintu pertama dia
berhenti dan menatap ke kamar mandi. Dia menyalakan lampu.
Kamis malam yang hangat. Hal ini sangat warnz bahwa seluruh kota, jendela
dibiarkan terbuka ro menangkap setiap angin liar, setiap napas dingin udara. Anda berjongkok di
tangga darurat, berkeringat dalam pakaian gelap Anda, menatap ke kamar mandi ini. Tidak ada
suara: wanita tertidur di kamar tidur. Dia memiliki ro menjadi awal untuk pekerjaannya di
toko bunga itu, dan pada jam ini siklus tidur-nya lewat ke terdalam, iliost nya
fase unarousable.
Ukuran tidak mendengar awal dempul Anda KNI / e Anda membongkar layar.
Moore memandang wallpaper, dihiasi dengan kuntum mawar merah kecil. Sebuah
pola wanita, ada seorang pria akan memilih. Dalam segala hal ini adalah
kamar mandi wanita, dari beraroma stroberi shampoo, ke kotak
Tampax bawah wastafel, ke lemari obat penuh dengan kosmetik. Sebuah
aqua-eye-shadow jenis gal.
Anda mendaki di jendela, dan serat dari biru tua Anda kemeja menangkap pada
Frane. Poliester. Sepatu Anda, ukuran 8 1/9, meninggalkan cetakan datang di putih
lantai linoleum. Ada jejak pasir, dicampur dengan kristal gipsum. Sebuah khas
mnix mengambil upfronz berjalan kota Boston.
Mungkin Anda berhenti, mendengarkan dalam kegelapan. Menghirup rorei8nness manis dari
ruang wanita. Atau mungkin Anda membuang-buang waktu, tetapi lanjutkan langsung ke tujuan Anda.