superhero!

Happy Birthday Mummy!!! Love you lots!!

'     The toolbox was next to him, on the lift roof. Carefully, he opened it. The sides of the case were kined with think sponge. INside, in the specially moulded space, was what looked like a complicated film projector, silver and concave with a thick glass lens. He took it out, then glanced at his watch. Eight thirty-five. It would take him an hour to connect the device to the bottom of Roscoe's lift, and a little more to ensure it was working. He had plenty of time. Smiling to himself, the Gentleman took out a power screwdriver and began to work.

      At twelve o'clock, Helen Bosworth called through on the telephone. "Your car is here, Mr Roscoe." "Thank you, Helen." Roscoe hadn't done much that morning. He had been aware that only half his mind was on his work. Once again, he glanced at the photograph on his desk. Paul. How could things have gone so wrong between father and son? And what could have happened in the last few months to make them so much worse?

    He stood up, put on his jacket and walked across his office-on his way to lunch with Senator Andrews. He often had lunchs with politicians. They either wanted his money, his ideas.. or him. Anyone as rich as Roscoe was a powerful friend and politicians need all the friends they can get.

   He pressed the lift call button and the doors slid open. He took one step forward.

   The last thing Michael J Roscoe saw in his life was a lift with white marble walls, a blus carpet and a silver handrail. His right foot, wearing one of the black leather shoes that were hand-made in rome, travelled down to the carpet and kept going...right through it. The rest of his body followed, tilting into the lift and then through it. And then he was falling sixty floors to his death. He was so surprised by what had happenede, that he didn't even cry out. He simply fell into the blackness of the lift-shaft, bounced twice off the wallsm then crashed into he solide concrete of the basement, two hundred metres below.

    The life remained where it was. It looked solid but n fact it wasn't there at all. What Roscoe had stepped into was a hologram being projected into the empty space of the lift-shaft where the real lift should have been. The Gentlman had programmed the door to open when Roscoe pressed the call button, and had quietly watched him step into oblivion. If the billionaire had just looked up for a moment, he would have seen the silver hologram projector beaming the image, a few metres above him. But a man getting into a lift on his way to lunch does not look up. The Gentleman had known this. And he was never wrong.'

---that was an excerpt from the first chapter of point blanc by anthony horowitz. haha though buddy lent me this book since march, but i only finished it a couple of days ago. haha been dragging due to some reasons. but i really love how that man died.. its not like the other murders. haha that's the beauty of this book i suppose. in addition, the plot revolves around something called the gemini project, where faceless people mimic people in real life and then they'll undergo plastic surgery to replace the real people. freaky but igenious :) i prefer this to skeleton key. though buddy prefers the latter  :P haha. i really do adore mystery and action books. but i'm still waiting for my freakanomics. haha

i've geared myself up with books. manage to borrow evermore. haa though it isn't mystery, some romance here and there, but its dark.kind of like twilight?? i don't know haha. jia you!!.

=do something right=