Arthur returned to his patio, his eyes burning from the persistent stench. He felt entirely dismissed by the world. The police thought he was a joke, the neighborhood thought he was crazy, and his own board had neutralized his authority. He was completely on his own. He stared through his fence at Henderson’s darkened garage. If he wanted the police to move, if he wanted Clara to sign the paperwork, he needed undeniable proof.
He flipped his binder to a minor loophole: Section 9: The Board retains a Right-of-Entry for emergency property maintenance inspections if an imminent hazard threatens community property values. It was a flimsy justification, and doing it without board approval technically violated his own protocols. But Arthur was past the point of rules. He needed to prove he was right. He grabbed a heavy pair of wire cutters from his shed and his high-powered tactical flashlight. He was going over the fence tonight.