I've been living in my apartment building for the last two years. It's a modest living space with one bath and two bedrooms. I sleep in the larger room and use the smaller one as an office/study. I work from home, so I spend a lot of time in the apartment.

About six months ago, new neighbors moved into the unit above me. At first, there were the usual sounds of moving furniture, walking back and forth, and opening boxes. No problem. I know what it's like to move into a new apartment. I've done it several times more than I care to recall.

A couple of weeks later, after the new tenant had settled in, the real noise began. There was shouting at two o'clock in the morning, ceiling-shaking stomping on the floor above me, and repetitive banging against the walls. I had never heard so much disturbance from anyone in all my years as an apartment dweller. It had to stop – NOW.

I told the kindly landlady several times about the situation, and several times nothing was done. Not only had the raucous disturbance continued, but it became worse than ever. Something had to be done, and I was determined not to be the one to move out.

I was discussing the situation with a friend when he said he had a solution if I was willing to go along.

"Sure, anything," I said enthusiastically.

"Well, I know a guy..."

"Wait a minute. I don't think I like where this is going. You're not suggesting..."

"No, no, no. Let me finish what I started to say. Then you can make your decision. I know a guy who can make things go away."

"Uh, okay."

"It's not that bad, really. He's a pro. He has ways of getting results. And, usually, no one gets hurt."

"Usually?"

"Of course, he'll charge a fee. But for something like this, it shouldn't be too severe. Now that I think of it, he owes me a favor. So, maybe he'll give you a discount."

"So, who is this guy? Or do I need to know?"

"He goes by the name Tony. But I doubt that's his real name. Most people who know him call him The Eraser because he..."

"...makes problems go away. I get it. But this is starting to scare me."

"Don't worry. On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being, well, you know," said my friend while making a throat-slitting gesture, "and 1 for killing a mouse, this would probably be a 2."

I was desperate and willing to do just about anything. I must have been crazy when I agreed to hire Tony. He said he was "Happy To Help."

A week later, the unit above me caught fire. My annoying neighbor was unharmed but had to relocate.

I asked Tony how he did it.

"I sent a message in an envelope in the door – HTH in the bottom and brake fluid slowly seeping from the top."

Story and Cover Illustration Copyright © 2024 by Michael DeFrancesco